Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 152064 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 760(@200wpm)___ 608(@250wpm)___ 507(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 152064 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 760(@200wpm)___ 608(@250wpm)___ 507(@300wpm)
For now, anyway. Who knows what fresh embarrassment hell waits for me on the other side of this night.
Eventually he pulls back. “You’re less green.”
I try to brush my hair away from my face, but I’m uncoordinated and sloppy. “I must look awful.”
His expression softens. “You’re always beautiful, Tally.”
A tiny seed of hope tries to blossom at his compliment.
“But you’re still my coach’s daughter,” he mutters.
I can’t tell if it’s meant for me or as a reminder to him. Regardless, the tiny bud promptly withers.
Flip rummages around in the vanity until he finds a toothbrush, still in its wrapping. He frees it from the package. “Would you prefer mint toothpaste or bubblegum mint?”
“Regular mint is probably better.” But I love that he has kids’ toothpaste.
He steadies my hand and squeezes a small dollop onto the brush. He’s still standing in front of me, one hand resting on the vanity beside my terry cloth-covered thigh. It feels intimate. “Do you need my help with anything else?”
This is how Flip is. He takes care of people. I’m not unique or special. “I bet you do this for all the girls.” I don’t mean to say it aloud. It’s more a reminder not to throw myself at him again like an idiot.
His expression shifts, his sigh heavy. “I know what my reputation is, Tally. It follows me around like a bad shadow, but I didn’t realize you thought of me like that, too.”
“That’s not how I meant it.”
“Isn’t it?” He steps back. “I’ll give you a minute.”
The bathroom door closes behind him, leaving me on my own. My stomach twists with fresh guilt over putting that despondent look on his face again.
My thoughts are jumbled and unreliable as I ease myself off the vanity and brush my teeth.
You’re always beautiful.
But you’re still my coach’s daughter.
Tonight, he didn’t take me home, where Fee would have played nurse for me. Instead, I’m here, in his apartment.
But he said no.
And now I’ve upset him. I don’t want to be someone who hurts him.
I wish my head was clear enough to connect all the dots.
I finish brushing my teeth and drink another glass of water. My stomach is sore and shaky, but I feel much better than I did half an hour ago.
Flip pushes off the wall when I open the door to the bathroom. “How you doing?”
“Better. Less drunk.” I want to apologize again, but they’re just words.
He takes me in, assessing, maybe deciding for himself if he believes me. “That’s good. You look better.” His hand settles on my lower back and he guides me to the spare bedroom.
Two bottles of water and some painkillers sit on the nightstand.
“You’re sure you’re done throwing up?”
Is he worried about me, or his spare bed?
“Pretty sure. Yeah.” I feel awkward and uncomfortable now. The weight of it all too much to bear.
He thumbs over his shoulder. “I’m just down the hall if you need anything.”
“Okay. Thank you for taking care of me.”
“You’re important to me,” he says softly. “I care about you.”
But only as a friend.
His smile is small and empathetic. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“’Night.”
He pulls the door closed.
I’m suddenly beyond exhausted.
The sheets are already pulled back, so I climb into bed, turn off the lamp, close my eyes, and wish everything could go back to the way it was a week ago, before my life went up in flames.
I wake up sweaty, wrapped in a giant plush robe. I wriggle out of it and the cool air hits my damp skin, causing a full-body shiver. I smell awful, and I’m hungover as hell. My bladder is screaming just as loudly as my head. What happened last night?
My showcase went amazing.
But my parents said they were getting divorced.
I called Hammer.
We went to the Watering Hole.
And then what…?
This bed isn’t mine. Panic hits, pushing adrenaline through my veins as I throw off the covers, then groan at the sharp pain slicing through my skull. I’m a mess. I shuffle a couple of steps and nearly trip over my own feet. Then I kick something solid.
A grunt comes from below me as I trip over the lump and hurtle toward the floor. My face doesn’t connect with the ground, though. Instead, it mashes against something soft-ish.
“Oh my fuck!” the human groans.
Flip.
Memories of last night pop like bubbles in my brain.
Flip brought me back to his place. He took care of me.
And the tube-shaped thing my cheek is pressed up against is his dick.
In all my wildest dreams, this is not how I envisioned my first experience with Flip’s junk.
CHAPTER 7
TALLY
“I’m really sorry.” I can’t stop apologizing.
“Don’t worry about it. I’ve had a black eye before.” Flip’s focus stays firmly on the road, hands at ten and two. “And it’s not like it was on purpose.”
I wish I could evaporate. I’m currently wearing one of his sweatshirts and a pair of leggings that belong to Rix and were accidentally left at his place. Sadly, neither function as armor against my unappealing smell or my embarrassment.