After my stomach emptied its entire contents and a cold sweat had broken out over my skin, I finally stopped heaving. My body was utterly exhausted and I just wanted to collapse. I sat back away from the toilet and my body slid toward the floor.
Blue was there and he lifted me up into his arms and carried me gently into the bedroom and walked toward the bed.
“What the hell happened to your bed?” he asked, eyeballing the heap of covers in the center.
“I was asleep when you broke in,” I muttered.
He shoved the blankets aside and laid me down. “How much did you drink tonight?” he asked, gently pushing a damp strand of hair off my cheek.
I groaned. “One rum and coke and a shot of vodka.”
“That’s it?” he asked skeptically.
“And a couple sips of another rum and coke.”
He was silent for a long time, and I cracked my eyes open and looked at him. Even with only the light from the bathroom, I could see he was frowning and pale.
“What?”
“Jules,” he began, sitting down beside me, causing my body to slide closer to him as the mattress dipped.
He called me Jules.
I liked it.
“Hey,” he said, calling me back from my swooning. “Did he give you anything to drink… anything at all?”
I knew who the “he” was that Blue was talking about. “You mean like drugs?”
He nodded stiffly.
“No. I would never take drugs.”
“Did he buy you a drink?”
I knew he was thinking of the date rape drug.
“No. He didn’t. I wouldn’t have drunk it anyway.”
My words didn’t seem to make him feel better. He gazed down at me with worry lacing his face. I sighed. “I never drink, okay? I didn’t eat dinner so that just made it worse.”
He ran a hand over his head, pulling off the knit cap as he went and tossing it on the floor. Then he stood and paced to the end of the bed. “This is all my fault,” he muttered.
You know… I had imagined a time when Blue was here in my bedroom with me and this was not the scene I was picturing.
Disappointment crackled over me and I sat up, swinging my legs over the bed.
“I think you should lie down,” Blue said, coming over to my side.
“I think you should tell me what the hell a cop is doing breaking and entering.” I glanced at him with narrowed eyes. “You are a cop, aren’t you?”
He barked a laugh. “Yes.”
I stared at him, waiting for the explanation I deserved.
“Your front door was unlocked,” he said sternly. Like it was somehow my fault he invited himself in.
“I have a doorbell.”
“I don’t want anyone to know I’m here.”
I sighed. “What the hell is going on, Blue?”
He fell silent again and resumed pacing, like he wasn’t sure what he wanted to say. I pushed up off the bed and headed into the bathroom. “I’m going to clean up,” I told him before shutting the door and locking it.
I had no idea if a lock would keep him out, but I did it anyway.
I grabbed a can of Lysol from under the sink and sprayed it around the toilet, closing the lid. Then I stripped off my shirt and threw it in the hamper sitting inside the closet. After grabbing the pink razor off the floor where I dropped it and tossing it in the trash, I took a quick shower.
The cool water felt wonderful against my sticky skin. As I washed, I rinsed out my mouth. I still felt lightly queasy and a little weak, but I knew my throwing up was over. As I dried off and combed out my hair, I wondered if Blue would still be here when I walked out.
He had a tendency of hanging around long enough to mess with my emotions and then disappearing without explanation. After I pulled on a pair of sleep shorts and a T-shirt, I glanced at myself in the mirror.
Do not get sucked in by his good looks, authoritive and sexy demeanor. He will tie you up in a knot that you have no hope of untying.
I glanced at the toilet where the finest hours of my evening were spent (uh, not).
He will also make you tipsy.
Once my self-imposed lecture was over, I pushed away from the sink and opened the door. I half expected the room to be empty.
It wasn’t what I expected.
The bed was remade, the covers all smoothed out perfectly. The small lamp beside the bed provided a bit of illumination, and he was sitting on the floor with his back to the wall.
I flipped off the bathroom light and stepped into the bedroom, my stomach doing that funny flip-flopping thing again.
“Feel better?” he asked, his voice low.
“Yeah.”
He pushed up and grabbed a bottle of water off the nightstand, unscrewed the cap, and held it out.
“Thank you,” I said, taking a dainty sip.
He picked up a bottle of pain reliever and shook out two in his very large palm, which he extended to me.
I plucked them out of his hand. “Looks like you found your way around my kitchen.”
“Figured you could use this.”
I swallowed the pills and noticed the paper towels wrapped around the hand that I gouged with my razor. I also noted the gash on his cheekbone from the hit he took earlier at the club. He was in no better shape than I was.
I retreated into the bathroom, grabbed a first aid kit, and dampened a fresh cloth with cool water. “Sit,” I instructed when I had all my supplies.
He glanced at the only place in the room to sit. The bed.
I sighed. “Go on.”
He turned and walked toward the end of the bed. I couldn’t help but admire the way his butt looked in his jeans. I was totally a butt girl.
Once he was sitting on the end of the bed, I laid out the first aid supplies and then brought the cloth up to his face to wipe away the dried blood. He didn’t say a word. He just watched me intently with that wide indigo stare; his eyes never left my face.
It was a little unnerving.
“This might hurt,” I said quietly because the silence was just too loud.
He didn’t even flinch as I cleaned his skin, lightly stroking over his very smooth cheekbone.
“Does it hurt?”
“No.”
I noticed his skin felt slightly stiff, and I giggled. I got him good with that hairspray. He raised his eyebrow in silent inquiry as I snickered.
“Your skin is stiff.” I giggled some more.
He cracked a smile. “What the hell were you thinking?”
“That I could blind you with my hairspray, attack you with my razor, and then escape out the front door.”
He rolled his eyes. “That’s the best you could come up with when you thought you had an intruder?”