I turn into him, pressing my face against his chest, inhaling mint and sandalwood. “I’m really sorry.”
“You’re okay, Talls. I’ve got you,” he assures me. “I know how tight you are with your family.”
“My mom kept this from me, and she never does that. My heart hurts.” I’m sure my head will too in the morning.
When we reach his floor, I focus on putting one foot in front of the other. Flip unlocks his apartment, props the door open with his foot, and helps me inside.
A pile of mail sits on his kitchen counter, next to a mostly full fruit basket.
His arm is still wrapped around me, our bodies pressed close. He tucks a finger under my chin. The two versions of him in my field of vision frown.
“You look green.”
“I don’t feel the best,” I say meekly.
“Your stomach is angry?”
“Yeah.”
“Let’s get you out of these, first.” He kneels in front of me, and I settle a hand on his shoulder for balance as he helps me remove my heels.
I absently run my fingers through his hair, marveling at how soft and silky it is. Is this what Flip the boyfriend would be like? Attentive, protective, caring. He lifts his head, emotions swimming in his eyes that I can’t catch and hold on to.
“Sorry.” I drop my hand to my side, heat rising in my cheeks. I was just petting him like Parsnip, my cat.
“It’s okay.” He pushes to his feet and guides me to the bathroom. He flicks on the light, illuminating the space. It’s clean, but the vanity is cluttered with hair and shaving products, like he got ready in a hurry.
Did he rush to the Watering Hole because of me?
He lifts the toilet seat as I sink to my knees.
“You should leave.” I grip the edge of the bowl as my stomach revolts.
“I’m not going anywhere.” He has enough time to gather my hair in a makeshift ponytail before the stupid shots come back up.
“I don’t want you to see me like this,” I say between heaves.
“Too late for that.”
I retch again. Flip has been present for two of the top five most embarrassing moments of my life. And they’ve both been in the past week. “This is so humiliating.”
“Connor fucked my sandwich and our entire team knows, you’ll be fine,” Flip assures me.
He rubs soothing circles on my back when I dry heave. “That’s it. Get it all out.”
Eventually my body stops rebelling. But I’m sweaty and cold, goose bumps cover my clammy skin. When I shiver, Flip crosses to the shower and grabs his bathrobe. He threads my arms through soft terry cloth and cinches it at my waist. It’s six sizes too big, but it smells like him, and at least I’m warm. He picks me up by the waist, sets me on the vanity, and turns on the water in the sink.
I’ve never had a boyfriend take care of me the way Flip is now. He’s so sweet and tender, patient and understanding. He’s not even mine and he’s being so thoughtful. “I’m really sorry,” I say to his chest.
“We’ve all been there, and you had a hard night.” He runs a cloth under the steaming water, wrings it out, and washes myface. “I’m sorry about your parents. And I’m sorry for the way they told you.” He hands me a glass of water.
“I didn’t see it coming.” I take a tentative sip, and when my stomach doesn’t immediately expel it, I take another.
“Neither did I, to be honest.”
I nod. “You see him more than I do.” I roll my bottom lip between my teeth. “I feel so betrayed, like everything I believed has been a lie.”
“I get it, better than you probably realize.” Flip wraps his arms around me, and I grip his biceps, wishing this night had gone differently, but grateful that he’s the one taking care of me.
