Page 24

with pictures

sorry she threw up afterwards xx

I didn’t know you were that bad of a kisser

I’m even more grateful when the car pulls up outside my house. And that feeling only increases when I remember my dad and brother are away for business this weekend. I’m not sure how I would explain Eden to them. I don’t think my dad would be thrilled about this arrangement. But he’s not here, and I can’t find it in myself to care. I gently nudge Eden awake, then say goodbye to Ben.

“Good luck, lovebirds. Don’t get thrown up on.”

Helping Eden out of the car I can’t help but notice how heavily she leans on me. I try to remember how many drinks she had, but the night feels blurry. Thank God I have a high alcohol tolerance otherwise I’d be of no help to her.

The door clicks open and I lead her upstairs to my bathroom. Or more like carry her up the stairs. I grab a towel and one of my university jumpers and sit her on the cool tiles, filling a cup of water for her.

“I’m sorry, Ollie,” she mumbles as she grabs the cup. She takes a few sips over water before continuing, unaware of her first use of my nickname. “We were having such a good night and then—“ A sob escapes her mouth, and the sound breaks my heart.

“Hey, hey. It’s okay, I promise. Let’s just get you cleaned up.”

I realise she’s going to vomit again before she does. Her face goes even whiter as she clutches her stomach and she swallows awkwardly and hiccups. Thankfully the toilet is right next to her, so there’s no danger of missing. She retches a few times as I rub comforting circles on her back. Once she is done, I pass her some tissues and more water.

“I’m sorry,” she grumbles. Her voice is so scratchy I can only imagine what she’s going to sound like tomorrow. She leans her body back against my hand, and my heart swells at the thought of her seeking comfort against me.

“Eden, I have a jumper here for you here. It’s probably going to be more comfortable than your dress. I’m going to leave so you can put it on, okay? Call me back when you’re done.” I leave the bathroom and shut the door, listening to the sounds of her sniffles and the rustle of clothing as I grab a hair-tie and some make-up wipes.

“You can come in now.” When I re-enter, she looks so small on the floor. She gives me a weak smile, her eyes filling with tears.

“The colour suits you,” I joke, trying to lift the tension.

“Thanks. I have the same one at home.” She lets out a wet laugh, wiping her eyes with a tissue. I sit down next to her. I’m still too scared to touch her unprompted, so I wait for her to rest against me again before I wrap an arm around her shoulder. “I’ve brought you some make-up wipes, as well as a hair tie. Michelle left them here one time.” A beat passes, and my tongue feels thick in my mouth. “Can I braid your hair for you? Just to keep it out of the way?”

My mum taught me how to braid when I was little and doing her hair was always one of my favourite things. Eden nods, so I position myself behind her and start combing through the roots of her hair. She shivers as I begin, and I almost let out a laugh.

“What?” She asks accusingly, pausing as she takes off her make-up.

“Nothing, nothing. I just didn’t think you’d be the type of person to have a sensitive scalp.”

“I danced when I was younger. I still have nightmares from how tight the buns were.”

I continue braiding in silence as she keeps sipping on the water. When I tie the braid off with an elastic, she slumps back against my chest. “I’m tired.” Her eyes gaze up at me, and my lips meet her forehead. I’m too tired to be embarrassed by my forwardness. I just wiped vomit off this poor girl’s face. I think she can handle a kiss.

“I know. Let’s get you to bed.”

9

CHAPTER NINE

Eden.

When I wake up in a bed that isn’t mine, my first thought is to panic. When I roll over and find Oliver’s sleeping face inches away from me, my second thought is to also panic.

What the fuck happened last night?

Through the sunlight streaming through the blinds, I can make out a glass of water on the bedside table. A searing pain shoots through my forehead when I sit up and I let out an involuntary groan. Oliver stirs next to me but thankfully doesn’t wake up. He’s still warm with sleep, and upon seeing how close we are a jolt of panic hits me.

Am I wearing pants?

The answer to that question is unfortunately no. But my underwear is still on, so that’s a plus. Rubbing my eyes, I feel the softness of a jumper that is most certainly not mine.

Memories of last night come flooding back. The taste of alcohol in the back of my throat. The flashing lights and the thump of the bass. The kiss.