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How did this happen? Why did I ditch my homework for a wedding?
I went to bed quicker than I’d expected, my tired eyes giving up.
CHAPTER8
MISERABLE
Istayed in bed the next day, ignoring every person who knocked on the door to check on me. I wallowed in my misery as I hugged the pillow.
Belvina wasn’t answering my calls, my sister had blocked my calls, and my parents had ignored all my calls too. Grey’s line kept going to voice mail. I’d left, like, five voice mails, asking him to call me back and allow me to explain.
Morris brought lunch to my room and dinner too. He was so sweet to me, and I was starting to warm up to him. He told me he was from Venezuela, which explained the accent.
“Where’s Tristan?” I asked when he came for the dishes.
“He is busy with work in his study.”
“Tell him I need his help.”
“You’re sure I can’t help you?”
“Yes, Morris.”
Tristan showed up later. Black jogger pants showed off his slim and long legs. His sweatshirt hugged his taut torso, filling every space that I could make out his abs.
“What’s the problem now?” He sounded tired, but who cared?
“I need to brush my teeth.”
He looked at me like I was stupid. “Seriously, Chloe?”
“I can’t move or stand.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Carry me on your back while I brush.”
“Are you kidding me right now?” He gave me an incredulous stare.
“No.”
“You’d better make this quick. I have work.”
“Well, you put me in this condition, so deal with it,” I hissed.
He came closer, and I hopped on his back with a sly smile tugging at my lips. I wrapped my arms around his neck as we walked to the bathroom. I felt like I was four again—when many people had enjoyed giving me piggyback rides. I looked down at his blond hair; it was a confusing color with different tones, like gold mixed with honey. He pulled me up on his back as we stood in front of the large mirror.
“Could you please put the toothpaste on the toothbrush?”Why did I say please?
He glared at me through the mirror before doing it. I wrapped my legs tightly around his waist to avoid falling as he let go of my legs to put the toothpaste on my toothbrush.
His shampoo filled my nostrils as I placed my head on his neck; he smelled like sandalwood mixed with his aftershave. I was tempted to sniff his neck. He smelled so good. He gave me the toothbrush and stared at me through the mirror. He cut some paper towel and gave it to me. I placed the paper towel on his shoulder and started brushing with one hand while the other stayed around his neck.
“Try not to get that on me,” he said with disgust.
“This is so ridiculous,” he said, and I rolled my eyes, ignoring his complaints.
He leaned closer to the sink for me to throw my mess away. I laughed at how stupid the whole process looked in the mirror while he appeared like he was contemplating flinging me around the room and walking away.
