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“I just ordered another drink,” Dana said.
My leg bounced up and down under the table.
Dana turned back to Casey. “There must be some cute guys who come in here.”
“There is this group of hockey players.”
My throat went dry. I reached for my water. Casey had a dreamy look. She swirled the ice in her drink with a straw.
“One of them, he’s older, but there’s something so ... I don’t know.” She paused and stared down into her glass. When she looked up again, she had a sultry grin on her face. “Something so scrumptious about him.” Her cheeks reddened. “Me and the bartender call him Blake because he looks like Blake Shelton.”
I picked up my fork, debating whether to stab Casey in the eye with it.
Dana twisted her mouth. “Did you say ‘scrumptious’?”
“I just mean he’s sexy,” Casey said. “A man and not a boy like most guys my age.”
I massaged my temples. “Are you dating him?” My voice quivered.
Dana shot me a warning look.
Casey bit down on her lip, and her eyes glazed over. “No. I—no. I shouldn’t have even brought him up.”
“You have a crush on him,” Dana said.
Casey stood. “It’s complicated.”
“Complicated how?” I asked.
“I really have to go. It was nice talking to you both.”
As she disappeared into a room behind the stage, I had a sick feeling that she was telling the truth about Kyle being the father of her baby.
Chapter 34
Oliver’s whining woke me. He stood next to the bed with his two back legs on the ground and his front paws on the mattress, nudging me with his cold, wet nose. My head throbbed, and a sour taste filled my mouth. The putrid stench of sweat and alcohol filled the air.
Footsteps raced down the hall toward me.Who’s here? Kyle?I shot up. The room spun. I closed my eyes, hoping the spinning would stop. It didn’t.
Dana burst into the room. “Deeogee, get over here.”
“What are you doing here?” My voice was hoarse.
Dana wrinkled her nose when she looked at me. “You look like shit. Get some sleep. I’ll take him out.” She grabbed the dog by his collar and rushed out the door, closing it behind her.
Blurry images came back to me: the red drinks; watching Casey sing; Casey sitting at our table, sipping a ginger ale with a protective hand resting on her abdomen; Casey talking about the guy she was into, an older man who looked like Blake Shelton. I tried to swallow, but my mouth was bone dry. I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stumbled toward the bathroom.
As I filled my glass with water, the image that stared back in the mirror terrified me. The whites of my eyes glowed neon red. Mascara streaked down my face, and a wrinkled, messy version of the blouse I’d worn yesterday hung from my body. What was I thinking, going to the Penalty Box last night? Why had I talked to Casey? I gulped from mycup. My stomach lurched as soon as the water hit it. I sank to my knees in front of the toilet and vomited. I stayed on the floor with my head resting against the edge of the toilet bowl until I felt hands sliding under my underarms and lifting me to my feet.
“You’re in bad shape,” Dana said. “You need to go back to bed.”
I rotated my head to get a better look at her. The slight movement caused another wave of nausea to roll over me. I waited for it to pass. Dana curled her arm around my waist and guided me toward my bedroom. Her eyes were clear, and her skin radiated. The only thing off about her was her clothing. She wore a pair of my sweatpants, which fit her like capris, and one of Kyle’s T-shirts with that damn Bruins mascot. God, how I hated that bear.
“Why aren’t you hungover?” I asked.
“Hangovers are for amateurs.”
If I hadn’t felt so awful, I would have been worried about how much she drank to have such a high tolerance. My bed seemed a mile off the ground. I used all my strength to climb into it. “Casey’s so young,” I said.
