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Chapter27
Makayla
I roll over in bed,my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. My stomach clenches, and I groan, curling into the fetal position.
“Hey.” Ben’s voice is soft, laced with concern.
I look up, my eyes still groggy from sleep, and find Ben leaning over me. “Hey.”Ugh. . . my throat is so sore.
“How’re you feeling?”
“Like I had the time of my life minus the time of my life.” I sit up and catch a wave of dizziness.
“Hey, relax. Here. Drink some water.”
That sounds amazing right now. I accept the glass and gulp it down. The liquid coats my mouth and soothes my throat. “Thank you. I needed that.”
“Yeah.” He takes the glass and sets it back on the nightstand. “What happened last night? Thought we agreed mixing booze and meds was a bad idea?”
I look back at him, confused. “I didn’t drink.”
“Come on, Mak. I’m not gonna be mad. I was just worried about you. I see this shit all the time. Even the smallest amount can have—”
“Yeah, great. Like I said, I didn’t drink,” I cut him off, my tone sharp. “I may not have a daddy anymore, but it doesn’t mean I need a new one.” I throw my legs off the bed to escape his scrutiny. He pulls me back, pressing my back to the bed. “Let me go.”
“No. I’m not trying to be your daddy. I’m trying to be your concernedboyfriend. You scared me last night. I have the right to worry.” His blue eyes blaze down at me.
“Well, I’m fine.”
“Are you? One second, you were giving me those fuck-me eyes, then, when I looked back, you were pale as a ghost.”
I ease back on the attitude. “I have no idea. I was fine, then my stomach started to hurt. I didn’t think much of it. Maybe a bad burger?” The creases between his eyes become more prominent. “Honestly. I didn’t drink. It had to have been food poisoning.”
“We all ate the same shit.”
“Unlucky draw? I’m fine now. Maybe a little queasy. Nothing a breakfast buffet won’t cure.” His cheeky grin finally shines through.
“Breakfast buffet, huh?”
“Yeah, figured since I’ve over-stayed my forty-eight-hour limit, I can get the full red-carpet experience on my way out.”
His head dips, brushing his lips over mine. “And what makes you think you’re leaving?”
The challenge in his tone stimulates the flutters in my belly. “Because a deal’s a deal,” I reply, my voice shaky.
“Not sure if you noticed, but I’m a deal breaker. And I don’t play fair. But you already know that. So, let’s skip to the whole leaving thing. You’re not going anywhere.” I search my brain for a witty comeback, but he’s rendered me speechless.
“Pancakes,” I mutter out.
“Pancakes?”
“Yeah, feed me pancakes. Syrup too. Oh, and sprinkles. Do that and call me your girlfriend again—it doesn’t have the worst ring to it—and I’ll stay. . .”
His mouth drops, granting me the softness of his kiss. I sigh, basking in this moment. “What’s the sigh for,girlfriend?” he murmurs against my lips.
“Not sure. Maybe I’m just happy.” I part my mouth, inviting his tongue to explore. I never imagined a kiss could feel so perfect. His hips press into me, earning another sigh.
“Glad I’m making you happy.”
