Page 59 of When the Smoke Clears

An hour later, after I informed Tyler of the situation and made him promise not to tell his bride-to-be, we snuck out, grabbed a cab, and made a quick stop at the grocery store on the way to Everleigh’s apartment. By the time she had showered then collapsed into bed, the nausea had eased.

“That’s a lot,” she murmured, inspecting the nightstand filled with things like coconut water, ginger ale, and my homemade oral rehydration solution with sugar, salt, baking soda, and water. Chamomile tea. Activated charcoal tablets. Crackers. Bananas. And peppermint lozenges.

I sat on the edge of her bed. “What do you want to try first?”

“Sleep,” she whispered, closing her eyes.

“You need to try—”

“Sleep,” she repeated. “Go home.”

I deflated. “I’m not going home,” I said, toeing off my shoes. “I’m staying in case you need me.”

“What are you doing?” she mumbled without opening her eyes as I slid into bed, gently spooning her. “I can’t have sex.”

I snorted while trying to restrain my laughter. “Shucks. And here I thought I might get in a quickie before you hurl again.”

She made a noise that sounded like a hum or a failed attempt at laughing.

I rested my hand on her hip and kissed her shoulder. “Sleep, Everleigh.”

That was the second night I slept (just slept) with a girl, and ironically, it was the same girl.

The next morning, I had toast and tea ready when she emerged from the bedroom with hair matted to her forehead. Lips pale and shoulders hunched.

“Good morning.” I glanced up from my phone and smiled, hoping she would reciprocate.

She did not.

“Let me pop your toast back in the toaster to warm it up.” I pushed back in my chair.

“It’s fine,” she mumbled, plunking into the chair across from me.

“You didn’t throw up again, so that’s good. Right?” I infused as much positivity into my words as possible.

Everleigh wouldn’t look at me. “I suppose,” she said, sipping the lukewarm tea.

“Tyler texted me earlier to see if you were going to make it to the salon in time to get your hair done with the rest of the bridesmaids. I said—”

Everleigh’s tired eyes lifted to meet my gaze. I tried not to focus on her rat’s-nested hair, but it wasn’t easy.

“Or you could go with what you have now.” I leaned back in my chair and shrugged before bringing the coffee mug to my mouth, hiding my grin. “It’s lovely.”

“I’ve never said these two words to anyone,” she said before taking a bite of the toast and slowly chewing. “Fuck you,” she mumbled.

I barked a laugh. “Attagirl. You’re going to be just fine today.”

“I don’t want to be fine. I want . . . I wanted . . .”

“You wanted what?” I set my coffee on the table and rested my folded arms next to it.

For the first time since I found her vomiting in the ladies’ room, she had color back in her cheeks. Was she blushing?

“I thought we were going to have sex,” she murmured.

I wasn’t sure I heard her correctly. “You thought what? Did you just say sex?”

“Gah!” She covered her face. “Just go. This is too embarrassing.”