I’m torn between leaving and staying, but I don’t like the thought of the front door not being locked behind me or her waking up alone and getting sick.
There’s a huge throw on the sofa, so I’ll just stay. Going to the bathroom, I relieve myself and wash my hands as I take in all her bits and bobs. I love that it’s a mismatch of brands and products, it’s one of the things I like about her. She’s sporadic, but in the best kind of way.
Back in the living room, I strip down to my boxers and manage to somehow fit myself on the sofa. I lay awake for ages, going over what she said about being hard to love.
My fists clench at the thought. Who the fuck gets off telling someone that, of all things? And that bird couldn’t have been more wrong. Granted, Violet can be a little annoying, but she’s fucking loyal to a fault, and the way she loves Lottie, her heart, if anything, is too big.
The pain in her voice when she said that about her brother Max and her parents too gave me a lump in my throat.
Does she not see what we all do?
ChapterTwenty-Two
VIOLET
I swallow, but my throat feels like sandpaper, my mouth so bloody dry. Blindly, I reach out, and my hand knocks something cool to the touch. I squint my eyes open and see a glass. Wrapping my fingers around it, I bring it to my lips, spilling some down my chin and neck, forcing me to sit up more.
Slowly, I sip the cool water and continue until the glass is practically empty, and then haphazardly place it back on the bedside table before falling back on the bed.
My head is pounding, my stomach makes a noise, and I just hope it's from the water. I try to recollect why I feel like absolute shit, and then last night comes back to me.
Nathan and I went to Club Accent. We drank, we danced. This time, the feeling in my stomach has nothing to do with my alcohol consumption and everything to do with what Nathan does to my body without even trying.
And then I sit up, too fast, as a wave of nausea hits me but soon passes. I’m still fully dressed, except for my boots beside my bed.
Throwing my legs over the side, I take a deep breath, brushing my tongue over my teeth… yuck.
I stand up, my legs a little shaky, and manage to get my dress off, dropping it to the floor.
There is only one way to remotely feel a semblance of being human, and that's to brush my teeth and take a shower. I cut across the small hallway, look to my left, and notice shoes by the front door, my heart racing as I slowly walk toward the living room and peek around the open door.
Laying on the sofa, one leg bare, foot touching the floor, is Nathan, in a pair of black boxers, but it's not the boxers that have my complete attention. It's the rocket of an erection he’s sporting. My eyes flit to his face, his arm slung over it, his lips parted.
And then my gaze returns to his boxers, fuck.
Memories of last night—Tanya, piggybacks, and the kebab shop—all come flooding back. I wrap my arm around my stomach and let out a small curse.
“Fuck.”
And then I look down at my practically naked body, and when my gaze returns to Nathan, he’s no longer asleep, his eyes fixed on me.
“Morning,” he says. The sound of his voice, thick from sleep, making my lower stomach pulse.Shit.
“Hi,” I say and then point over my shoulder. “I’m just going to shower.”
I turn around, and the sound of a deep groan escapes him as I hurry to the bathroom, closing the door behind me.
Quickly, I turn on the shower, feeling a bit light-headed, and then I step out of my underwear. Great, I just flashed Nathan my arse. This is my favourite lingerie set, and it leaves fuck all to the imagination.
Stepping into the shower, my mind is racing over last night and just now, but what I said to him hits me hard in the chest; that my parents wished it were me instead of Max.
“Fuck.”
Throwing my head back, I wet my hair, lathering it with my favourite shampoo, then massage my scalp as I rub in the suds. It does nothing to calm me like I’d hoped. Rinsing and squeezing out the excess water, I give it a quick condition.
I had no intention of washing my hair, but it gives me a little more time to collect myself before facing him again. That's if he hasn’t done a runner already.
I can’t believe he stayed, he’s double the size of that sofa, there’s still a bed in Char’s old room where he could have slept, but I guess it’s not something I had thought about.
