Page 57 of Make Me Want it Too

I shrug. “Five minutes. Twenty. I need to pee.”

“Okay.” He helps me off the floor and to the toilet. And by helps, I mean he lifts me under the armpits while I flop limply like a child.

“Don’t leave!” I say.

“I won’t.”

“But don’t look!”

He turns around, crossing his arms while I pull down my panties—oh yeah, these are a thong, he’s definitely seen my butt today, then—and go to the bathroom.

“All done,” I say after I flush, realizing much too late that saying it aloud was redundant.

I’m less wobbly getting to the sink, but Wood is still watching me, arms out, like I could fall at any second. As soon as I finish washing my hands, he swoops me up into his arms. I yelp and cling to his shoulders. He doesn’t seem fazed.

I gaze up at his ridiculously chiseled jaw. “You’re less blurry now.”

He looks down at me while he carries me into the bedroom, smiling his stupid, gorgeous smile. But it looks strained.

“You have pretty teeth. Very straight. Did you have braces?”

“No. Never had braces.”

I roll my eyes. “Of course you didn’t. You are and always have been the perfect physical specimen.”

He tilts his head and squints. “Are you sure you’re feeling better?”

“I had braces for five years. Five.”

His chest is warm. My face is pressed against his chest. He doesn’t seem to care, so I don’t either. I press my face against him harder.

“I bet you looked adorable with braces.” He lays me down gently on the bed and then pulls the quilt up over my legs.

“Not even a little bit,” I say.

Closing my eyes feels nice. I snuggle down into the pillows. His chest was better.

“Ah, there she is.”

I blink, adjusting to the light in the room. I must have been asleep for a while. It looks like midday.

“How are you feeling?” Spencer’s dad, Charles, adjusts his wire-framed glasses as he comes up to my bedside.

“I feel much better, thanks.” But I’m not looking at him, I’m looking around the room, Bex and Livvy are sitting at the other side of the bed, looking at me anxiously. Jake is behind Bex, his hand on her shoulder.

Spencer and Saundra are whispering by the doorway. Spencer looks my way and my stomach twists into knots. I hate that he’s here, seeing me like this. Knowing that I messed up. I didn’t take care of myself last night. He told me not to drink too much and I did, and that look in his eyes as he looks down his nose at me—he doesn’t even have to say, “I told you so.”

I wish he wasn’t here.

It’s weird, going from wanting someone around all the time—desperately, even—to not at all. All I know is every time I feel better, he makes me feel worse.

The only person I want here, I realize as I keep scanning the room, is the one person I’m looking for. Wood.

He’s over by the window, looking out at the water, wearing the sweats he slept in. It’s weird, I don’t like how far away from me he is. I want him next to me. I want to hold his hand.

Charles is going on about if I want him to check my vitals or if I’d be more comfortable going to the hospital.

I shake my head. “No, I’m fine. I have everything here I need. I know how to manage.”

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