“It’s fine, really. Plus, maybe your brother will finally show up.”
“Please don’t tell him,” she begs quietly, grabbing my arm.
“Ash, I have to. None of this is your fault, at all.” I crouch beside her. “Yeah, you shouldn’t have been here, butthat doesn’t give Max the right to do that to you.” I grab her chin, lifting her eyes to mine. “You didn’t deserve this.” Tears roll down her makeup-streaked face. “But I need you to promise me something.”
Her chin quivers. “What?”
“I need you to promise you will never take a drink from someone you don’t know. Hell, don’t take them from guys you do know. You get your drinks yourself from now on. Got it?”
She nods. “I’m so sorry.” A sob breaks from her throat, and I pull her to my chest, running a hand down her hair before remembering the vomit and pulling it away. I feel bad for the girl, but that’s where I draw the line.
“It’s okay. Come with me. I’ll show you to the bathroom, and then we’ll get you out of here.”
After getting her everything she needs, I return to my bedroom to get her some clothes. She was terrified when she woke up, and I hate that. Her normal quick-witted, smartass comments have been stifled by whatever emotions threaten to pull her under.
I pull out a T-shirt and a pair of sweats from my closet. I’m a big guy, so they’ll probably swallow her, but it will have to work.
I’m laying them out on the bed when I hear crying from the bathroom.What the hell?
“Fuck me,” I mutter under my breath.
This is exactly the sort of thing I try to avoid. I don’t do drama or tears. I could leave and let her figure it out, but for some reason my heart hasn’t let me in on quite yet, I can’t. I knock, opening the door enough that she can hear me.
“You okay?”
At first, there’s no response, but then she lets out a cracked sob. “No. Notreally.”
There’s only a little over a year between us, but I’m not about to open that can of worms. Driving her home last summer was one thing, but her naked in my bathroom is another.
“Take a couple breaths. I’m right here. You’re safe, okay?”
“O-okay.” She keeps sobbing.
Shit.
I wish her fucking brother would answer his phone. Making a mental note to beat the shit out of him, I ask, “Do you need anything?”
“N-no. I just—” She gasps a few more times.
I open the door more, covering my eyes with one hand even though it’s too foggy to see anything.
“Hey, I’m right here. You’re fine. Can I help you?”
What the hell am I doing?
“Yeah.”
“Shit. Okay, I’ll close my eyes, but can you stand and turn around? Here.” I hand her a towel while still covering my face with the other. “Wrap this around you. I’ll help you get the puke out of your hair, at least.”
She takes the towel from me, and I cover my eyes.
After a few seconds, she says, “I’m ready,” in a small voice that guts me.
She’s standing with her back to the foggy glass door, her face in her hands. Every gasp has her shoulders jerking. Her hair’s wet, weighing down her curls. I grab the shampoo from the ledge, pouring some into my hand.
“Okay, I’m just gonna wash your hair. That’s all. Can you lean forward?”
It feels like trying to approach a baby deer. She flips her hair over, holding the towel with both hands in front of her. I run my shampoo-covered hands through her hair, makingsure to get all the vomit out. She makes these little gasping noises every so often that feel like a sucker punch to my gut. I should have just killed the motherfucker last night. I’m certain after watching her break down like this that letting him go was a mistake. Pulling the showerhead down, I rinse out the shampoo.
