by Zoe Allison
Eva laughed. “It’s a common excuse when it comes to objects stuck in orifices.”
Jane was wiping tears from her eyes.
Dave shook his head. “You’ve got the best stories. You should be an after-dinner speaker.”
Eva smiled. “I’m not sure these are the sorts of tales that go with dinner.”
She glanced at Damon. A few more drinks in and he seemed decidedly worse for wear. Eva had already been to the bar to get packets of crisps for him in order to soak up some of the alcohol, but it hadn’t helped much. She watched Dave and Jane, who were talking intimately, and wondered what to do. Damon needed to go home now. He was in no fit state to go alone and she doubted a taxi would take him. But she didn’t want Dave to be the one to accompany him, because he and Jane were getting on so well.
She made the decision, and signalled to the others. “Guys, I’m going to get Damon home. I think he needs a lie down.”
They looked over at him. He had his elbow on the table and his head resting in his hand.
Dave drained his drink. “I’ll take him. You and Jane stay on for another one.”
Eva studied Jane. There was disappointment in her eyes. Eva shook her head. “You stay with Jane. I’ll take him. Make sure she gets home safe, though, or you’re in for it.”
He laughed and saluted her. “Absolutely, you can count on me.”
“Is that okay?” Eva asked Jane.
Jane smiled broadly. “Of course it is. Text me to let me know you get back safe.” It was clear that Jane was more than happy to be left in Dave’s company.
Eva nodded. “The same goes for you. Message me once you get home.” She stood. “Right. Come on, Evans. Bedtime for you.” She pulled Damon’s arm round her shoulder, lifting him from the chair.
Damon could walk, but he was unsteady. “Where’re we going?” he asked as she helped him out of the pub and onto the street.
“I’m taking you home. You need to sleep this off.”
He sighed. “Okay. As long as you don’t try to take advantage of me in my vulnerable state.”
“Don’t worry. You’re in safe hands. Trust me. I’m a doctor.”
Luckily the walk to Damon’s wasn’t far. It only took fifteen minutes normally. However, the pace was a little slower on this occasion because Damon kept stopping to narrate various random points of interest and Eva would have to coax him along again.
When they eventually arrived at his front door, Eva asked him for his keys. He patted the pockets of his jeans and gave her a horrified look.
Eva sighed. “Don’t tell me you’ve lost your keys or you’ll feel the wrath of Mathers.”
He grinned. “Just joking. They’re in my pocket.” He fumbled around for a minute. “Fiddly bloody keys….”
Eva shook her head. “Right… Let me get them.” She stuck her hand in his pocket, grasped the keys, pulled them out and started unlocking the front door.
He raised his hands. “Hey, no manhandling. You promised.”
She helped him through the door. “Sorry… Needs must.” It seemed as if he’d gotten more drunk on the journey home. That last drink must’ve still been making its way into his system.
Eva positioned herself behind Damon in order to usher him upstairs. “Okay, straight up. You need to lie down before you fall down.”
She went after him to ensure that he didn’t topple backward. Once they reached the landing, she steadied him into his bedroom and he sat heavily on the bed. He was still swaying from side to side, even when sitting.
She placed her hands on his shoulders. “Do you just want to sleep in your clothes? It’ll be easier,” she said.
He shook his head in an exaggerated manner. “It’s not comfy.”
She scanned the room. “Where’re your PJs?”
He shut his eyes. “I don’t wear them. I sleep in my underwear.”
Eva groaned inwardly. She was going to have to help strip him down. That was going to be torture.
He lifted his hands and fiddled with the buttons on his shirt. “It’s okay, though. I can manage.” He couldn’t even catch hold of the individual buttons.
Eva batted his hands away and knelt to help. “Come here.”
She undid each button carefully, trying not to touch his bare skin for fear that she may explode into a flaming ball of lust.
Then she took the shirt off, keeping her eyes away from his torso. “You need to stand now.” She lifted him to his feet, and quickly got his jeans belt and button undone before he could collapse onto the bed. She had only just gotten the jeans down when he did just that, sitting heavily.
“I haven’t got the duvet back yet. You need to stand again.”
He shook his head. “I can’t.”
Eva knelt in front of him. “Why not? I’ll help you.”
He cupped her face. “You’re so beautiful.”
Eva thought her heart might explode. “Damon—”
“No, listen. You really are beautiful. I’m not just saying that cause I’m drunk,” he said, slurring his words. “It’s true. You’re my best friend, Evie. My BF. My BFF. Wait! How many Fs are there?”
“Come on,” she said gently. “Let me get you under the covers.”
But he just drew her face nearer to his. He was still gorgeous, even when he was pissed.
He smiled. “Thanks for looking after me.”
He leaned forward and gently kissed her lips, like he meant to give her a small peck then draw away again. But as soon as he made contact, he lingered on, moving his lips slowly over hers, tasting her softly. It was the most gentle of butterfly kisses but fire still burned deep in her belly. She kissed him back for a couple of seconds then came to her senses and broke contact. She didn’t want this to happen when he was so drunk. It wasn’t fair to him—to either of them. As she moved away, he collapsed onto the pillow.
“Damon?”
He was out for the count.
Reeling with shock at what’d just happened, she went onto autopilot, pulling the duvet from under him, lifting his legs into bed and covering him up. Then she went downstairs and fetched him a glass of water to go on his bedside table. She watched him for a moment, then went into the en suite and brought the bin into the bedroom, placing it by the bed in case he’d be sick in the night.
That anxiety started building, so she took a pillow and placed it behind him to try to keep him on his side. If he vomited lying on his back, he might choke. Again, she stood to survey the situation. Would that be enough? He might still be able to roll over. He was practically unconscious now, so if he did vomit choking would be a real hazard.
Eva wondered if she should sleep on the sofa downstairs to keep an eye on him. But she knew that would be pointless because there’d be no way she’d hear him from down there if he were in trouble.
She groaned. She was going to have to sleep next to him to keep watch. If he started to vomit, the noise would wake her and she’d be able to make sure he stayed on his side or sat up.
This truly was torture. She’d be lying right next to the man of her dreams and he’d be naked except for a pair of tight boxers. There was no way she’d get a wink of sleep.
Eva looked around the room and spotted a T-shirt and a pair of cotton shorts. She glanced at Damon. He was still out cold, so she quickly stripped to her underwear and put on the T-shirt and shorts. Then she turned off the light and slid into bed next to him, painstakingly making sure she didn’t make contact with him.
She lay there for ages, mind and heart in competition to outrace each other. What was the deal with that kiss? What did it mean?
Eventually the relatively small amount of alcohol she had ingested took its toll and she closed her eyes, drifting off to sleep.
A couple of hours later she awoke with a start. Damon was making noises that indicated he was about to vomit. She leapt out of bed and around the other side, grabbed the bin and placed it under his face, holding the back of his head so he couldn’t roll over. After he’d fin
ished, she wiped his face carefully with some tissues and disposed of the bin contents into the toilet, cleaning it afterwards. Then after returning the bin to its post, she slid back into the bed. Even clearing up after him in this situation didn’t make her find him any less attractive. That’s a bad sign. Eventually she fell back to sleep.
* * * *
Damon woke up. The room was bathed in sunlight and it hurt his eyes. Why were his surroundings moving as if he were at sea? He blinked. Where am I? He waited for the spinning to slow and recognized his bedroom. Why did it feel like he’d been stabbed through the head and the contents of the Sahara Desert emptied into his mouth? What happened last night? He shut his eyes and tried to remember. He’d met Dave in the pub. They’d had some drinks, some more drinks, then Eva and Jane had arrived and yet more drinks. There was a pattern emerging here. Bloody Dave. Then what?
Crap. Eva had had to walk him home. He screwed his eyes tight shut. Then she’d helped him into his own house and upstairs to the bedroom. His head throbbed. Oh no. She ended up having to help him undress and get into bed.
He groaned, and something shifted in the bed behind him. Holy shit. He painstakingly rolled onto his back to glance over the bed. Eva was there, sleeping peacefully. She was wearing his T-shirt and she looked fantastic. No. He hadn’t had sex with her, had he? This was so not the way he’d imagined it happening.
Think. He was positive that after she’d helped him undress that he’d passed out. Things were at their haziest at that point in his memory, but there was no way he would’ve been physically capable of sex at that point. In any case, Eva wouldn’t have been interested. He let himself relax and lay there watching her sleep, thinking how much he wanted to kiss her right now and trying not to think how much of a fool he’d made of himself. He’d need to apologize to her as soon as she awoke. At that point, her eyelids fluttered and she peered at him from under them.
Her voice was thick with sleep. “Morning, you old drunkard.”
His throat was dry. “Hi. I’m so sorry.”
She blinked. “What for?”
He tried to lubricate his mouth. “For getting drunk and acting like an idiot. I’m sorry for it all,” he said quickly, trying to make amends. “I wish none of it had happened.”
Eva frowned. “None of it?”
He tried to nod but it made the pounding in his head worse. “Of course. It was a complete lapse of judgment and there’s no way it’ll be happening again.”
She was quiet for a moment then she smiled brightly. “No problem. Let’s forget it happened. Oh, just to explain, I stayed with you because I was worried you might vomit in the night and choke to death—not because I was trying to take advantage of you.” She sat up. “A pesky side effect of being a doctor is the paranoia.”
Damon spotted a glass of water on his bedside table and took a sip. “Thanks. You’re a star.” He took another drink. “I wasn’t actually sick, though, was I?”
Eva shrugged. “Only a little.”
Damon covered his face with his hands. “Oh God, this is so embarrassing.”
Eva laughed gently, clearly attuned to the fact that he couldn’t stand any loud noises. “It’s okay. We both have dirt on the other now. It only makes the bond of friendship stronger.” She got out of bed. “I’ll freshen up then I’d better head home or Mum’ll get the wrong idea.”
“Okay,” he said, watching her go into the en suite. He closed his eyes, sleep drifting close by. The floorboards creaked. He awoke to Eva standing by the bedroom door.
“Sorry,” she said. “I was trying to sneak out and not wake you. I left you some painkillers by your glass of water. Can I get you anything else?”
This time he was sensible enough not to shake his head. “No, that’s okay. You’ve done more than your duty. I really am grateful, even though I’m totally embarrassed.”
She smiled. “Forget it. It’s fine.” She waved her hand in front of her face as if performing magic. “None of this ever happened.”
Damon managed to lean on one elbow. “I hope two weeks is long enough to get rid of my hangover and be ready for the reunion.”
Eva laughed. “You’d better not let Dave get the drinks that night.”
Damon managed a small laugh, although then he had to hold his forehead because it throbbed painfully.
Eva opened the door. “I’ll text you about the reunion.”
“Okay. See you soon,” Damon said, as she closed the door quietly. He lay back carefully for the sake of his head, took the painkillers and closed his eyes. Thank goodness he’d managed to salvage that situation, and all was well.
Chapter Fourteen
Eva trudged along Damon’s street, feeling like she was treading on her own heart with each step.
‘I’m sorry for it all. I wish none of it had happened… It was a complete lapse of judgment and there’s no way it’ll be happening again.’
Remembering his words was like a knife to her gut. He thought kissing her was a mistake and he wished he could take it back.
When was she going to learn? Every time she thought he might feel more for her than just friendship, she ended up feeling like this. She needed to stop before she got really hurt, although it already pained her pretty badly.
She wished he’d stop giving her false hope. As much as she enjoyed the flirty comments and affection, it really wasn’t doing her any good. If things were the same at the reunion, she’d have to tell him to lay off.
Time counted down to the day of the reunion. Rachel had gone into planning overdrive and arranged where the six of them would meet. Eva hadn’t the heart to tell Rachel about Damon kissing her then saying it was a mistake, so her friends were still labouring under the misapprehension that something might happen between them.
Eva met up with Rachel, Marcus and Jane at a bar near the hotel where the reunion would take place. They got there an hour or so before Damon and Dave were due to arrive because Rachel said she wanted to buy Eva and Jane a round of champagne to celebrate her partnership, though Eva suspected Rachel’s ulterior motive was to provide Eva with some Dutch courage prior to Damon’s arrival.
Once the bottle was drained, Eva made her way to the bar to get the next round. She adjusted her little black dress, one of the purchases from her shopping trip with Meena. A breeze brushed against her back, the rear of the dress was open from the neck to the small of her back with black strands of material connecting the gap. She turned her head to look at the source of the breeze, the open doorway. Damon was stood there. She willed her heart to slow as she watched him survey the room. His eyes locked onto hers and his expression darkened for a moment.
Eva steadied herself as the onslaught of longing washed over her. She took a deep breath and gave him a wave.
The barman asked for her order and with a sterling effort, she wrenched her gaze away from Damon. When she turned back, he and Dave were at their table greeting the others, but Damon kept glancing at her. She signalled him to come over, indicating she wanted to know what drinks they wanted.
When he reached her he gave her a hug. “You look gorgeous.”
She hugged him back, her head swimming with his scent. “Thank you.” Remember not to read anything into his compliments. “What’re you guys drinking?”
He smiled. “A bottle of beer for me please—and a pint for Dave.”
She turned to the barman to add the two extras onto her previous request.
Damon helped her carry the drinks over to the table and they handed them out. Eva passed him his bottle and her fingers brushed his.
He smiled. “Thank you.”
She gave him a healthy dose of eye contact. “No problem.” The champagne had indeed made her a little bolder. She was starting to think that two could play at his little flirting game.
The hotel was only a short distance away and eventually they headed out of the bar to walk to the reunion. By this time, the party should be in full swing.
Eva found herself at the back
of the group with Damon, so she decided to embrace her newly found boldness. He was always meaninglessly flirting, so now it was her turn.
She put her arm through his and pretended that she couldn’t feel the butterflies fluttering in her stomach or the heat that shocked through her every time she looked at him. He, somewhat annoyingly, seemed very at ease with it.
She squeezed his arm. “By the way, I should probably warn you that I heard Tracey McKenna is going to be on the prowl for you tonight.”
He frowned. “What?”
“Yep,” Eva said. “Apparently she wants to rekindle the old chemistry.” She leaned in and nodded towards Dave, who was in front, walking hand in hand with Jane. “I can be your wingman if you’d like, seeing as Dave will be out of commission.”
Damon raised his eyebrows. “Old chemistry? Don’t tell me you heard about that.”
She shrugged. “We were sixteen years old and she dragged you into a bush in the park one evening. Everyone heard about it. In fact it was all our entire class year talked about for two whole weeks.”
Eva remembered every detail of the rumour that had gone round their year about Damon and Tracey—the boy she loved and the girl who made her feel about two inches tall getting together. It had broken her heart at the time.
Damon cursed under his breath. “I can assure you that I’m not the slightest bit interested in Tracey McKenna.”
Eva winked at him. “Whatever you say.”
He gave her a slow smile. “I mean it, Eva. Tracey is not the one I’m interested in.”
“Okay…” Eva said, the intonation in her voice rising at the end as if she were questioning him.
“Watch it, Mathers,” Damon told her, pulling his elbow to his side so that she was drawn into him. “Any more of your cheek and I’ll have to bend you over my knee.”
Eva shrugged. “Promises, promises.” She smiled and kept her gaze straight ahead, then stole a sideways glance at him.
He was watching her with a grin on his face.
She looked ahead again.
Damon laughed. “I might need to employ you as my bodyguard rather than wingman. I’d better not drink too much again in case she attacks me. Hey, did you notice I’ve been sticking to bottles of beer tonight rather than pints?” He winked at her in an exaggerated manner. “Tactics.”