“Oh... you need to stop the car. I’m going to be sick.” I sucked in a few deep breaths, trying to hold the gurgling mess down. He pulled up. My body jerked forward at the sudden stop. I reefed the door open and went to move but my body wouldn’t budge. It was stuck. I couldn’t understand why. I felt the vomit lurching up my stomach. Mild panic set in. “Karson, I’m stuck!”
“Seatbelt, Amelia,” he snapped as he unclasped it, setting me free. I staggered away from the car. Nausea had me in its clutches. Then it squeezed.
I grabbed at my hair, trying to keep it from my face. Liquid sprayed like a fire hose from my mouth. I stayed hunched over, breathing deeply, the taste of bile burning my throat, until the urge to throw up receded.
“Finished?” Karson sounded amused. He was leaning up against his car with his arms crossed in front of him.
“Maybe, I think so, I’m not sure.” I stumbled back towards the car.
“Here.” He handed me a bottle of water. “Drink.”
I drank, washing the putrid taste away. I stood, not wanting to move, but feeling my body sway like I was on a cruise ship in rough seas, waiting to see if my stomach had settled.
“Okay, I’m good.”
“You sure? I don’t really want to be cleaning out vomit from my car.”
“Sure, I think... oh—” I turned back toward the forest and threw up. Karson held my hair back, his other hand wrappedaround my arm to stop me from falling. I retched again and again. Finally, I stopped and took a few more sips of water.
“Okay, I’m good now,” I murmured, staggering back to the car and plonking myself back down in the seat. I closed my eyes as I felt him reach across and secure my seatbelt once more.
The next thing I knew, I was being carried inside.
“Someone’s had a big night.” I heard Ethan’s laughter. I felt my body being laid on the bed. The whole room spun and sped up like a record player. My eyes jolted open. Someone was taking my shoes off, and I struggled to sit up.
“Lie still, I got it. You have vomit on your dress,” Karson said.
I closed my weary eyes and mumbled something incoherent.
“You need to take it off... Amelia. You need to... never mind, I’m taking your dress off, alright?”
“Okay, I love you,” I murmured, then felt the dress being pulled over my head.
I slumped back and drifted off into oblivion.
Chapter 32
Hangover
Iwas woken by the fierceness of my hangover. My brain felt like it was protesting imprisonment against my skull. My stomach was a cauldron that threatened to erupt with some kind of catastrophic explosion. Light stabbed at my eyes as I dragged them open. I rose, stumbling to the bathroom, and dropped to my knees, clutching the toilet bowl and hurled up wine and god knew what else. The room spun. The taste of stale alcohol and bile burned my throat, and my head was beating like a drum. Groaning, I sank to the floor, pulling my knees up and clutching my head tenderly in my hands as I leaned against the tile wall. I took my hands away from my face and looked down—I was wearing only a white sheer bra and underwear.
A flash of Karson removing my dress emerged.
I groaned again, not from the agony of the hangover, but from mortification.
Climbing to my feet slowly, I turned on the shower, and dragged my sorry ass in. As I washed my hair, I realized with disgust and growing embarrassment, some of last night’s aftereffects stuck to the strands.
After spending a long time in the shower and emerging feeling a bit better, I brushed my teeth, dressed, stripped the bed and headed downstairs.
“Well, good afternoon.” Ethan called out, his voice sent claws through my head.
“Morning. Voice down, please,” I said delicately, moving to the laundry and throwing the sheets in the washing machine.
I came back to the sitting room, wincing and blinking behind tired, sore eyes. Ethan laughed as I lowered my frame gingerly onto the sofa.
“I’ll make you something to eat.”
Ten minutes later, he held out eggs and mushrooms on toast for me with a cup of tea. Bacon and eggs for himself.
