Zac lumbered away from the establishment, a massive weight on his shoulders and a gut full of regret. Still, no matter what she said and despite what happened between them being a massive mistake . . .
There was no forgetting it.
Chapter twenty-five
Thursday: Tabitha
TabithaknockedonLark’sRV door for a third time and only then did she hear movement from within. The low groan and lumbered approach was unlike her friend’s normal pep.
“I’m coming,” came the miserable groan.
She fiddled with the lock, and when Lark finally showed herself, the green husk of a woman was not what Tabitha expected to see.
“Oh my god.” She stepped into the trailer, following Lark, who was wearing the same shirt from the night before, underwear, and one sock. “What the hell happened to you? Are you hungover?”
“I don’t drink,” Lark grumbled, holding back a little heave. “Sober, remember?”
Tabitha’s nose prickled at the slightly foul scent in the stuffy vehicle. She began opening all the windows to allow air to flow through and freshen the place up.
Lark wrapped a blanket around her like a shroud and sat cross legged on her bed with a big bowl in her lap.
“I think I have food poisoning,” she murmured.
Dark circles, grayish-green skin. Sweat beading on her forehead. The voluptuous, vivacious, beyond-sunny woman looked like death.
Tabitha sat on the bed and placed a hand on Lark’s back. “Is there anything I can get you? Antacids? Ginger ale? A greasy burger.”
“Ugh,” Lark moaned while swatting away Tabitha’s hand. “So mean.”
Tabitha chuckled. “Fine, all of that works for me when I’m sick, but what about you? I can run to the store and snag whatever.”
Blood drained from Lark’s features, and Tabitha thought for sure another round of vomiting was upon them. She slowly slid off the bed and took a tentative step back. Lark white knuckled the bowl but steadied her breath and a splash of color returned.
“False alarm,” she moaned and flopped onto her back, the empty bowl still death gripped in one fist. “The only thing I need is the biggest bottle of the pink stuff you can find. Get two if you have to. A gallon jug of water and some of those fizzy hydration tabs.”
“No food?”
“Shut your mouth with that foul language.”
“Ok, ok. I have my orders,” Tabitha soothed. I’ll be back before you know it.
Tabitha shifted her shopping basket to the other elbow to balance its heft as she browsed the digestion aisle at the local grocery store. She held two bottles of stomach relief medicine, comparing the ingredients before realizing she didn’t know the difference. She tossed both into her basket and made for the hydration tabs.
“Rough night last night?” a husky voice teased loudly from down the aisle.
Tabitha looked up, equally startled by Zac’s presence and the volume of his question. If she were a blusher, she would have been flaming from neck to hairline. Why was that his opening comment? He knew how things went the night before. How they’d shamelessly given in to the desires they’d been holding back. How their kiss had morphed into an all-out finger-bang situation. Was this his attempt at breaking the ice, because holy hell, it wouldn’t end well for him.
“Why would you—” Her clipped words fell away as he gestured to her basket and understanding dawned. The hangover supplies: antacids, sports drinks, and—most embarrassingly—anti-diarrheal. “This is for Lark.”
Zac took a few steps closer, concern knitting his brow. “What happened? She ok?”
At about arm’s length, he was still entirely too close. But instead of retreating, she held her ground. “Food poisoning.”
“From what?” He blew out a breath, seemingly relieved for a moment, before scrunching his face once more like he was envisioning the whole ordeal.
“Probably the Poke.” Tabitha shrugged.
“Okay Poke?” he asked warily, like he already knew the response.
