“Really?” she asked, floored.
He kept talking, the words hot against her skin. “I miss you around the house, miss you in my life. Spend time with me again.”
He straightened, seeming to be waiting for her to say something.
“I will. I—” she swallowed over the lump in her throat “—miss you too. But why…” She trailed off as a large hand landed on her head and mussed her hair like it was sucking on her head. Ethan Case.
He moved to her side. Everything about him was sharp—dirty blond hair with spikes in front, hard blue eyes, chiseled cheekbones—softened by his full lips that occasionally cracked a smile. Like now. “Brain sucker and it’s starving.”
“Ha-ha,” she said, shoving his hand off her head.
Ethan pulled her head close and kissed the top of it. “Happy New Year, shortstack.”
Her friends gathered in close again, eager to flirt with Ethan.
Park snatched the tiara from her hand and settled it back on her head. “Royalty suits you.”
She stared at him, speechless.
“And we’re her royal friends,” Hailey chirped.
Ethan laughed. “Nice to see you all again.” He scanned the group. “Some of you are new to me.” He went over and introduced himself to the new women. Then he took them all in, a small smirk on his face. Some women found that smirk sexy. Mad had no idea why. “I remember most of you from the wedding. Especially you, Charlotte.” He bumped Charlotte with his hip. “You got the moves on the dance floor.”
Hailey laughed. “I wish I had a chance to dance with you too.”
Ethan turned, a smile slowly spreading across his face. “Oh yeah?”
Hailey hid a smile by sipping her mojito, her eyes lighting up. “Yup.”
Ethan crossed to Hailey, getting close enough to whisper in her ear.
“Maybe later,” Hailey said.
Ethan held out a hand. “Or maybe right now.”
Hailey looked to Mad and raised her brows in a gesture of and that is how you do it.
Hailey took Ethan’s hand and he turned her in a slow twirl and brought her close, his arm wrapped around her waist. He leaned down and smiled at her.
“Yo, Eth!” Josh called from behind the bar. “Want a beer?”
Ethan looked over at him. “You paying?” He grinned down at Hailey, who beamed back as he twirled her back around.
“Yeah,” Josh called.
“Come take my place,” Ethan said to Josh. “I can’t leave the woman hanging mid-dance.”
Mad choked on a laugh. Ethan was onto Josh and calling him on it.
Josh raised his palms. “Can’t leave my post.”
Hailey put her hand on Ethan’s arm. “Another time. Thanks.”
Ethan took them all in. “Ladies, excuse me, I could use a beer. Long day with a bunch of nuts. Thankfully I didn’t get the late shift. That’s when the real crazies come out.”
“Like us,” Mad said.
Ethan laughed. He snagged Park, one hand on the back of his neck, and brought him along to the bar.
Hailey finished her mojito with a big aah. “And that, my dear Madison, is how flirting is done.” She did a big twirling flourish with her hand. “Your turn.”
“So let me get this straight, I’m just supposed to go over there, mimic your performance, and wait for your critique?”
Hailey beamed. “Exactly.”
“At least she’s honest,” Charlotte put in.
Mad squared her shoulders and marched over to the bar, her tiara firmly in place. “Can I get another scotch?”
“Yup,” Josh said, serving it up.
Ethan and Park were talking to each other a short distance away, paying her no mind.
She reached for the glass, but Josh held it. She met his eyes. “What?”
“Sip it. You’ve still got two hours until midnight.”
“I binged on fried chicken earlier. It’s absorbing all the alcohol.”
“Over at Jimmy’s?”
“Yeah.”
“I told you that stuff is crap.” Josh was a foodie and disapproved of fast food. Sometimes comfort food hit the spot, though. She’d gone by herself, quietly enjoying the decadent meal of fried chicken, French fries, fried corn bread, and coleslaw. The past couple of days had been rough for her, trying to come to terms with the fact that she wasn’t Park’s type. Why did he say that if it wasn’t true? He was usually so careful of her feelings.
She looked over to where Park and Ethan stood and back to Josh, who still held her drink hostage. “Can I please have my drink?”
He let go. “Fine. Start your New Year with a hangover.”
She saw the caring in his deep brown eyes and caved. “Okay, I’ll sip,” she said on a sigh. She had to pick her battles with her overprotective brothers.
He dipped his head and went to help another customer.
She shifted over to Park and Ethan. “Charlotte wants a turn dancing with you, Eth.”
Ethan raised a brow. “Never keep a lady waiting.” He strolled over and took Charlotte’s hand, who looked surprised for a moment but then quickly went with it.
Mad set her scotch on the bar and turned to Park. “Why did you say I wasn’t your type?”
He leaned close, keeping his voice low. “I told you already. I need us to be just friends. Sorry I hurt your feelings.”
She relaxed a little, feeling more like the Park she knew had returned. He was one of the few men who ever noticed when her feelings were hurt. “So why do we have to be just friends?” She needed a real answer. One that made sense to her. Otherwise they were wasting time when they could be together.
He stared straight ahead, his jaw tight. “We’ve always been friends.”
“And then we weren’t,” she said evenly.
He turned back to her. “And now we are again.”
She took a deep breath and caught Hailey smiling encouragingly at her. She turned back to Park, who gave her an isn’t it great to be friends again smile. She silently seethed, her temper pushing her to one of her signature reckless and regrettable moves.
“And that’s all we’re going to be?” she asked.
“What do you think of the Patriots’ chances of going to the Super Bowl?” he countered.
It was a question she found hard to resist. They’d always been hardcore football fans at her house. They launched into a long discussion of football that had Park downright animated. She enjoyed herself despite the fact they weren’t exactly moving things to where she’d hoped.
Finally the topic wore itself out. Ethan returned and Park asked him about his latest arrests.
Mad let out a long breath, worn out from the roller coaster of her emotions, grabbed her barely touched scotch, and headed back to her friends. They were gathered in a group, talking and laughing. All of that stopped when she returned and they all looked at her expectantly.
“Good job!” Hailey exclaimed.
“Don’t get too excited,” Mad said. “He just wants to be friends.”
“Friends is a great start,” Lauren said. “You guys are living together. It’ll happen. Just give it time.”
“Why are you always so sweet?” Mad asked. “Nothing ever bothers you.”
Lauren’s green eyes widened. “I was just trying to help.”
“Sorry,” Mad said. “I’m just not good at being patient and taking things slow.”
“Look at it this way,” Ally put in, “if your goal is to marry him, you’ll have your whole life together.”
Says the woman who ran away at the altar. None of her friends had any good relationship experience that would help her.
“I didn’t say I wanted to marry him,” Mad said in a fierce whisper. “Why does everyone assume women want to get married?”
“You don’t?” Hailey asked.
Mad looked over at Park, the only man she’d ever loved, and lied through her teeth. “I don’t.” It hurt too much to wish for things that would never happen. All
that hurt quickly turned to anger. She tried to push it down, tried to enjoy hanging with her friends, but every time she looked at Park yukking it up with Josh and Ethan, completely content to treat her like one of the guys, a pal, denying everything they’d shared that meant so much to her, she teetered closer to the edge of control.
By midnight, she was dancing on a table, her friends cheering her on, Josh yelling at her to get down, and Ethan smirking. She raised her arms over her head, which made her sweater lift, showing off her nice innie belly button, and added some hip action for a super-sexy dance. She flashed a grin when Park’s gaze finally connected with hers, which quickly died when he strode straight for her, his expression fierce and determined.
Next thing she knew Park was carrying her out the front door, her body flung over his shoulder. She would’ve cheered if she didn’t feel so dizzy.
Happy New Year to me.
Chapter Fifteen
Park put a steadying arm around Mad as he guided her upstairs to her room. She was drunk and went from quiet in the car to all soft and sweet the moment they entered the house. He wasn’t one of those guys who found drunkenness all that appealing. His home life pre-Campbell drove that home. And while he appreciated her sexy dance, he didn’t appreciate everyone else getting an eyeful of her.
“Happy New Year to me,” she sang.
“Happy New Year to you,” he replied, guiding her down the hallway.
“To us,” she said with a goofy smile.
He moved her along quickly, practically carrying her, and pushed her into bed. It was a queen-size bed, the bunk beds that used to be there long gone. She lay flat on her back, unmoving. He undid the ties on her boots, pulled them off, and set them on the floor.
He gazed at her for a moment, a small smile on her face, her entire body relaxed. “Sleep this off and I’ll see you next year.”
“Ha!” she said. “See you next year. Ah, bed.”
He pulled the covers over her and she pushed them off.
“My jeans are too tight,” she informed him. Before he could stop her, she was peeling them off. He quickly looked away and turned to go.
“Help!”
He stifled a groan, turned, and looked. She was kicking and struggling with the jeans caught around her ankles. She wore purple boy shorts panties. So perfectly Mad.
He grabbed the jeans, trying not to touch the bare skin of her legs, and quickly slid them off. She stretched out those toned sexy legs and wiggled her feet.
“You hate my panties, don’t you?” she asked. “But they’re so comfortable.”
“Night, little bit.”
“I’ll take them off.” She grabbed the sides of the panties and he put his hands over hers to stop her.
“They’re awesome. Keep ’em on.”
She placed his hands flat against her hips. “Feel how soft they are.”
He dutifully stroked the fabric over her hip, a safe zone of sorts. “Yup.”
She sighed and pulled the cover over herself, curled on her side, and slept.
He made a quick exit, turning off the light. He stood in the hallway for a moment and blew out a breath. He knew he’d dodged a bullet. She’d been all over him tonight, talking to him about all his favorite stuff in a way that few women could, her sexy little body leaning close, her fresh citrusy scent washing over him. He trudged across the hall to his room.
The next morning he woke to the unmistakable sound of retching. He went into the hallway to make sure she’d made it to the bathroom. She had. Maybe now she’d learn her lesson about drinking too much.
He went downstairs to start the coffee, made some toast, and waited. An hour passed and no sign of Mad. Finally she appeared, freshly showered. She drank some coffee, declined food, and returned to bed.
He kinda missed her company, but he figured she needed to sleep. The house was so quiet. Her dad wasn’t due home until tomorrow. He decided to visit Ty, who was leaving tomorrow. He returned that night with some take-out Chinese. “Mad, you here? I got your favorite, pork lo mein.”
No reply.
He went upstairs to hear her moaning in the bathroom. The door was closed. “Mad, you okay?”
She retched. He winced. That sounded really bad.
“Go away. I’m sick,” she said in a weak voice.
He stood there for a minute, unsure how to help her. “You still hungover?”
“It’s much worse than that. I think I have food poisoning. Please go away.”
“Okay, call me if you need anything.”
He went downstairs and put the TV on while he ate at the coffee table, half of him still listening for signs of life upstairs. He checked on her a few times. Still in the bathroom. By the time it was late enough for bed, he was alarmed to find she hadn’t left the bathroom. “Mad?”
She moaned.
“Do you need a doctor?”
“No.”
“Have you had anything to eat or drink today?”
“I can’t.”
He leaned against the door, speaking through it. “You want some help getting to bed?”
“I’m never leaving this toilet.”
“I’ll get you some Gatorade or soda or something. You must be dehydrated by now.”
No reply.
He bolted downstairs, grabbed her car keys, and drove to the store. He made it back twenty minutes later, poured her a glass of ginger ale and a glass of Gatorade and put them both on her nightstand.
He returned to the bathroom door. “Let me help you to bed. You need to at least sip a drink. You’ve been in there all day.”
The door sprang open suddenly. Her hair was a tangled mess in a lopsided messy bun. Her eyes had smeared mascara under them. She was pale and shaky, wearing only a T-shirt and her purple boy shorts panties. She was basically a mess. Every part of his being reached out to her in that moment, wanting to take care of her.
He reached for her, guided her back to her room, and it hit him that maybe his desire to take care of her meant that he could be a family man. Maybe he wasn’t damaged beyond hope. Wasn’t that what her dad did? Took care of all of them?
“Don’t look at me,” she said. “I’m hideous.”
“You’re just sick,” he countered.
She continued in silence and collapsed on the bed. He knew she must be in really bad shape if she didn’t even have a snarky comeback.
He tucked the pillow under her head better. “I’m going to get you another pillow so you can sit up and drink.” He headed to the door.
“Get a trash can too,” she called. “Oh God.” She raced past him and back to the bathroom.
It was a long night. Her petite body racked with the food poisoning. She moaned and retched and raced to the bathroom for hours.
By dawn, she had nothing left in her. Just dry heaves. He sat in a chair next to her bed, keeping vigil, putting a cool washcloth to her forehead, helping her sip flat soda.
She finally fell into an exhausted sleep. He slept in the chair by her side, one hand covering hers.
~ ~ ~
Mad woke the next morning feeling drained but relieved not to be nauseous anymore. It had to be the fried chicken dinner she’d snarfed before the party. Maybe the coleslaw; it had tasted sort of sour. She hadn’t had anything but tortilla chips at Garner’s. Josh was right. That junk-food stuff was poison. Her stomach muscles hurt, her throat burned, and her tongue felt fuzzy. So gross.
She slowly turned her head to see Park asleep in a chair next to her bed. He’d seen everything. Seen her at her worst. After all the effort she’d made to look sexy for him. Now he’d never see her as anything but that disgusting barfing girl.
She slowly sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed, accidentally bumping one of his long legs.
He jolted. “Hey, you’re awake. How’re you feeling?”
“Shitty.”
“You need help getting to the bathroom?”
Tears stung her eyes. The room smelled like barf. “I did
n’t want you to see me like this.”
“It was pretty bad, but you pulled through.”
Her frustration and weakened state crumbled her control and she found herself crying. She crossed her arms, hugging her middle, which still hurt like hell.
“Hey, hey.” Park shifted to sit next to her and put an arm around her heaving shoulders. “It’s okay. Take a shower, brush your teeth, and you’ll start feeling human again.”
She was beyond embarrassed. She was mortified.
“How can you stand to be near me?” she asked.
He brushed her tangled hair back. “You needed me.”
She wiped her eyes. “Thank you. I’m going to try to clean up.”
“I’ll air out your room for you.”
She bit her wobbly lower lip and moved on unsteady legs to the door. A strong arm wrapped around her, helping her there. She managed, slowly and with frequent breaks, to brush her teeth and take a shower. When she returned to her bedroom, clean sheets and a new comforter were on the bed. It smelled fresh too like cold winter air.
She couldn’t even…there were no words for her level of gratitude. She would not cry again. He had dark circles under his eyes from staying up all night with her.
He met her halfway and helped her back to bed, tucking the covers around her, brushing her hair back from her face and kissing her forehead. She suddenly felt like the little twerp he had to take care of.
“You always going to see me as a twerp?” she asked.
“No.”
“Park—”
“Get some sleep.”
“I just want to say thank you. You went above and beyond the call of duty here.”
His brows drew together, his expression uncertain. “Did I do a good job taking care of you?”
She couldn’t believe he even asked that question. “Yes. You did a great job.”
He put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “That means a lot to me. Rest up.”
She was extraordinarily tired. She curled on her side, felt his hand on her head for a long moment like a blessing, and drifted to sleep.
Two days later, Thursday, Mad felt better, enough to eat and drink normally. Park had been sort of fussing over her. It was sweet, but she still felt mortified. After he’d seen her in such a hideous state, she went back to her normal clothes, no hair styling, no makeup. There was just no way to come back from barfing girl. He’d never be able to get those images of her in the throes of food poisoning out of his mind. Nothing sexy about her, as was evidenced by the fact that he never touched her, never flirted, despite the fact they spent plenty of time together alone at home. Her dad was home now but back to working the night shift.
Inviting Trouble (Happy Endings Book Club, Book 2) Page 16