An ungodly retching sound follows.
Oh. Heck. He wasn’t making sure I knew the kiss was something passing between us and not Lydia and Wickham. He was trying to tell me he was about to vomit.
My fingers trace my lips, swollen and sore from the shocking storm they just endured.
And Jack threw up.
Even worse, I thought his request for release was some great declaration of love or something.
Definitely misread that one.
I brush my hair out of my face with a sigh. This is why I keep the hopeless romantic under lock and key.
Another round of Jack retching sounds beyond the bathroom door. I straighten my dress and collect myself. Now isn’t the time for misplaced pity. I need to overcome my bruised ego and help my friend.
Holding my nose, I enter the bathroom. Jack is in the first stall with the door open, hugging the toilet bowl.
He looks at me and groans, before leaning his head against the wall.
“You okay?” I ask, tepidly approaching.
“I should be there, Dessy,” he says, closing his eyes. “I fucked up so bad.”
I slide down to the ground next to him, trying not to wince as my bare legs meet the cold tile. Jack’s head falls to my shoulder. “I don’t deserve you,” he says, sounding far more drunk than he did a few minutes ago. How did I miss that? Well, to be fair, whatever he was doing made me miss a lot of things, so maybe I shouldn’t dwell on that. “You’re too good and pure, and I’m going to ruin” —he hiccups— “someday.”
I don’t know precisely what he means to ruin, but I’m doing a pretty good job ruining our friendship, so he doesn’t have to worry about that.
Jack’s head lays on my shoulder for a few minutes longer, and I count his breaths, trying to settle my own. “We should get you home,” I whisper, pulling out my phone and texting Emy for a ride.
“I can’t let Simone see me like this.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it,” I say, pushing him off my shoulder and trying to get him to stand.
At that moment, the door swings open. I breathe a sigh of relief when I see it’s Andrew. He’s always been a solid guy. I can trust him to be discreet. Without asking, he puts his shoulder around the other side of Jack to keep both of us from falling over.
Thank you, I mouth.
“I should have cut him off sooner, but I couldn’t with what day it is, you know?”
I nod. “I enabled him, too.” My mind goes to all the out-of-character stuff Jack did tonight, and his words before he leaned in to kiss me. He literally told me I was a distraction and I still let myself get caught up in that.
Good to know I’m still terrible with the whole not giving my heart over to someone the minute they pay me a compliment thing. I’m going to have to do better in the future.
In tandem, we walk Jack to the front, where Emy said she’d meet us.
Her car pulls up, and we stuff Jack into the back seat. The car ride home is silent, save for Emy’s eclectic playlist, which does little to quiet my mind as it spirals over the fact that I kissed Jack.
And it was everything I’ve ever wanted in a kiss. My toes curled, my heart raced, and electricity spiraled inside.
And he…vomited.
That’s going to do wonders for our friendship.
ChapterSixteen
Jack Parker
Play:Northern Attitude by Noah Kahan
