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Oh, no, no, no, no, no. This can’t be happening. Not now. Please, God.
“I think…” I cover my mouth and sprint for the only bathroom in the apartment. I slam the door behind me and slide to the toilet just in time to throw up every bit of those delicious tacos.
This can’t be happening. Theo Bennett is standing in my apartment listening to me vomit. I will have to move. Transfer to a different city. Change my name. I can never show my face in Seattle again so long as he knows this happened.
I recline against the wall and wipe my mouth. Then the sweats begin. I can’t possibly have food poisoning. Jorge wouldn’t do that to me. My eyes pop open.What if that Chinese food I ate earlier was older than I thought?I should have just thrown it away to be safe.
There is a soft knock on the door. “Cate? Are you ok? Do you need anything?”
Hell. I will never recover from this horror.
“I can’t have you seeing me like this.”
“You think I’ve never seen someone throw up before?” His voice is gentle on the other side of the door. “If you’re sick, you’ll need someone to help you.”
“I’ll be fine. My roommates will be…” No, they won’t be home soon. They won’t be home until tomorrow.Hellfire.
“What about your roommates?”
“They’re out of town until tomorrow.” I admit, but don’t know why. I could have just lied and sent him on his merry way.
“Do you have any Gatorade?” He asks and I nod my head before I realize he can’t see me.
“Yeah, in the fridge.”
I hear his steps walk away and he is back within a few seconds. He knocks again.
“Can I come in?”
“Why not?” I wave my hand for him to enter. “Might as well see what you’re working with.”
The door glides open just enough for him to squeeze his body through. He flushes the toilet and crouches in front of me. I expect him to hand me a bottle of Gatorade but instead he reaches his hand out for me to grab.
“What are you doing?” I squint up at him, positive my skin is tinted green from the nausea.
“Let me help you to your room. I’ll get a waste bucket and you can drink some Gatorade.” His voice is so sweet, almost melodic.
I should be in the fetal position, wailing over how this evening is turning out, but instead I just do as he says. I am in no mood to argue and think it’ll only make matters worse.
He lifts me up from the floor effortlessly, like I don’t weigh anything at all, and helps me to my bedroom at the end of the hall. I open the door and slowly sit on my queen-size bed. My room is basically an extension of the rest of the house in color and style except for the two bookshelves filled to the brim with books.
Theo places a waste basket beside my bed and the Gatorade on my nightstand. He sits down next to me, dipping the bed so our legs touch. He gently rubs my back in small, circular motions.
“Looks like you’re an avid reader.”
He is trying to take my mind off the nausea and/or the humiliation. It doesn’t work, but I nod and grunt in affirmation like some kind of neanderthal.
“My dad has a whole library at his house. You should see it sometime.”
“After what’s happened tonight, I wouldn’t blame you for calling off this whole fake dating thing. I wouldn’t want to take me to Hawaii either.” I twist the Gatorade top off and chug a quarter of the bottle in one go.
Theo doesn’t reply so I turn to look at him. The surprise in his eyes catches me off guard. “Why do you think I’d call this off just because you got sick?”
“Umm…Look at me. I’m gross.”
“You’re not gross. You’re human.” His eyes sharpen. “And what kind of man would I be if I went back on my word just becauseyouthought you were a little gross?”
I shrug and wipe the beads of bubbling sweat from my hair line. “Well, I wouldn’t hold it against you.”
