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“Okay, I’m going to give you some ground rules here,” I say, and he laughs, shaking his head.
“No way. I’m not trying to test you, Kate. I was just kidding. I do that shit sometimes, just ignore me.”
I examine the white packet again. “No seriously. I want to trust you. I’m just not much of a risk-taker, and I could face disciplinary action for taking something illegal.”
“Okay,” he says slowly, as he chews the side of the battered nail I was examining earlier. “I’ll make a deal with you. You trust me and I’ll not do anything that could get you into trouble.”
I swallow. Am I going to do this?
“How do you take it?” I ask.
“Empty it into your mouth and wash it down with water,” he grunts.
I stand again, and before I can think twice I’m filling up the cup from the back of the sink and crouching down on the floor again, handing him a packet, watching as he tips it back and downs half the water before making a face.
I lock eyes with him, open the plastic bag and tip it into my mouth, then without thinking too much I gulp down the rest of the water. It tastes foul … like acetaminophen and …
“What was in that?” I say, and he shakes his head, shifting to stand and dragging me back into the bedroom. He shucks his jeans as I collapse down, and he follows me, curling around my back and pulling me into him, a strong hand pressed over my stomach.
“Sleep,” he says. “I’ll tell you later,” and something about his warmth and my churning stomach keeps me silent. I close my eyes, shutting out the way the world is tipping and dipping, sliding back into the darkness.
My eyes blink open to the same view of a mahogany chest of drawers and a damask-covered chair. Fabian’s heat is like a furnace at my back. A gentle tap, tap, tapping noise is coming from the door.
“Kate! Kate! Are you up?”
Georgie. I swing around to sit on the side of the bed, and then I’m upright and goddamn I feel almost okay. I look down at the red dress as I head to the door: Nothing too bad on display.
Georgie grins in delight at me when I open the door and peeps around my shoulder to where a half-naked Fabian is lying on his side, fast asleep. Her eyes dance.
“Wow!” she says, unabashedly ogling my … my … What are Fabian and I to each other now? “That is the best thing I’ve seen in a very long time.” She giggles and gives me a wicked smile. “Those tattoos,” she whispers. “You are a badass sister. I’m envious.”
I laugh, looking at the script that runs all over the muscles on his right-hand side and the smooth bulge of his bicep. I want to crawl back into bed, straddle him, and bite him. I never check out guys and think thoughts like this. Maybe he gave me a mind-bending drug cocktail in that powder?
“We should stop ogling—he’s sleeping,” I whisper.
“I can hear every word,” Fabian grunts from the bed, eyes closed, and Georgie giggles again. He rolls over, and his sleepy eyes lock on her. She covers her eyes, and I see he’s got morning wood.
“Put that away,” I hiss at him, grinning, and he chuckles, rolling over again.
“Still in last night’s clothes, I see,” Georgie says.
“Why are you here?”
“You were both pretty out of it last night. So was Brad by the way, so I thought I’d do the rounds and wake everyone up. The wedding is in an hour.”
“Oh my God, seriously?” I shoot across the room and grab my phone from the nightstand.
“Thank Christ I don’t have to go,” Fabian mumbles.
“Oh no, you do. Apparently, Cassandra has insisted you’re there. Well, that’s what she said at breakfast this morning.”
“Fuck,” Fabian says into the pillow. “It always backfires when I help people.”
“You’ve been helping Cassandra?” Georgie asks.
I hustle her out the door. “Let me get ready. It’s a long story. I’ll tell you later, at the reception. We’ll need some entertainment to get us through today.”
Once she’s gone, Fabian rolls onto his side and studies me with sleepy eyes, then pats the bed.
