Page 72 of Naive in Love

“Almost passed out?” I ask, avoiding the subject of him being mad at me.

“Yeah. When I picked you up, you woke up and thanked me. When I asked for what, you mumbled something about a bubble. Know what that was about?” He watches me, raising an eyebrow in question. I do know exactly what the bubble means, but I would never want to admit it to him. What else could I have said?

I shrug. “Did I say anything else?” I ask, hoping I continued speaking in unintelligible phrases.

“Not really. You just kept calling Emily a bitch over and over and asking if I knew she was one. Then you passed out in the car. When we got back to your place, I carried you up and got you in bed. You had been in bed just a few minutes when I heard you moving about and found you in the bathroom, puking.” He has the audacity to chuckle at my expense. I really can’t blame him though; I made a complete fool of myself last night.

“Did you smoke out last night?” His concern is apparent again.

I nod. “I think so. In addition to a few tequila shots. And everything else we drank at the club.” We sit in silence for a few moments before I begin again. “And the mess?” I wave my hand toward my room.

A small smile appears. “That was all you. After you puked, you got a second wind and started raging. That’s how I pieced together what happened last night, but I wasn’t sure.” His lack of information is irritating. What did he mean I was raging?

“Raging?”

“Yes. Raging. First you started cussing out Caleb like he was standing right in front of you. Then you walked to your closet, taking crap out and asking me questions like, ‘Does this make me look like a slut?’ ‘Is this what guys want to see?’ Then you would toss or throw it. I was lost at that point, not understanding what clothes had to do with anything.”

Caleb really got to me. I have been so worried about what he would want me to wear, even in my extreme inebriated state, I was still thinking about that.

“Then you were thirsty and went to the kitchen and saw that poor bear. You grabbed a knife and went to slice its head off. That’s when I intervened, and you directed your rage at me.”

I wish I could remember what happened. What could I have said to him? At this point, the only thing to do is apologize and let him leave. “I’m really sorry you had to come get me. That they called and bothered you. That you had to deal with my theatrics…I’m getting a good picture of what happened last night. No need to worry about me anymore. Why don’t you go home? I think I need more sleep.” I yawn, wanting to temporarily forget about last night again.

“You’re not getting rid of me that fast. Come on.” He stands up, extending his hand toward me.

“What are you doing?” I place my hand in his.

“Putting you to bed. I also had a late night and could use a nap. Mind?” He walks me to my room, directing me to climb into bed. He is waiting for me to answer whether he can take a nap with me. As much as it will hurt when he leaves, I want him here now.

“Get in.” I move closer to the wall, and he slides his shoes off before climbing in next to me. He lays on his back, then pulls me close, placing my head on his chest and wrapping his arm around me. And just like that, I feel safe again.

“Please don’t ever go into a random apartment again. You could have called me last night, and I would’ve picked you up. I can’t bear thinking about what could’ve happened to you passed out in a strange guy’s apartment.” His arms tighten around me while he kisses the top of my head. “Promise?”

I was lucky again last night. That is not a hard promise to keep. “I promise.” I grip his T-shirt tightly, not wanting this moment to end.

* * *

I waketo a hand rubbing my back gently. I don’t remember falling asleep, but I can tell it is late afternoon by the lack of light coming in through the window shades. I am contemplating how long I can stay here with Ethan, our bubble reinstated, before he leaves and chooses not to come back. Lena and Preston forced his hand, but he stayed with me all day, even when I told him he could leave. I wish I understood why.

A knock on the door interrupts my thoughts of never wanting to leave this bed and the safety he magically places around me. I lift my head to look at him. His smile when I look up melts me—genuine and cocky, his perfect mix.

“I need to get the door,” I tell him as a begin to sit up.

“Let me.” He pulls his arm out from under me and pushes me gently back down. I think who it could be; my brain still running slow. Caleb. OH, HELL NO. I cannot let Ethan answer the door if Caleb could be the one on the other side.

“NO, I GOT IT!” I raise my voice and begin to scramble to beat him out of bed.

Before I can leave the bed, he has me by my waist and calmly asks, “Why do you need to answer the door?” He watches me carefully.

“Uh…cause…” I pause, not wanting anyone hurt. I don’t care if Caleb sees Ethan, but I don’t want them fighting, and I have a feeling it would happen. “If…uh…it’s Caleb…”

“If it’s him? What?” His voice remains level but with a hint of annoyance.

“I…If he sees you, he will be pissed, and I don’t want you having to defend me. I should do this on my own.”

“I will defend you any day of the week and twice on Sunday. Good thing it’s Sunday.” He winks at me and begins to stand up again.

“Please, let me do this. Stay here,” I plead, knowing I will have to face Caleb eventually. Another knock, heavier and longer.

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