Page 37 of Strike Zone

“You know I love you.”

“I love you, too, Lexington.” His eyes drift in my direction, but I divert my gaze as my stomach lurches up into my throat.

“Excuse me.” I run to the restroom, losing what little lunch I had earlier today. You know a relationship in any form is toxic when it literally makes you sick. It takes a few minutes for the retching to stop, but when it subsides, I splash some cold water on my face and rinse my mouth out with mouthwash before heading back to the kitchen.

“Are you okay?” Linc studies my face, worry etched in his brow.

“I’m going to go home. I think I might have food poisoning.”

“You haven’t even eaten yet. My cooking’s not that bad,” Brooke jests.

“I think it was my lunch. I’ll leave you guys to the rest of your night. I’ll call you tomorrow.” I grab my purse and make my way to the front door.

“Do you want me to drop you home, Dee? You look a bit off-color.” Anders is a good man, but he suffers from the same macho overprotectiveness as Linc.

“I’ll be fine. I can manage by myself.”

“I’m heading out just now anyway, so I can drop her home,” Linc interjects.

“You’re talking about me as if I’m not standing right here.”

He makes a big show of turning to face me. “I can take you home, Diana. It’s on my way, and you look like ass. It won’t kill you to be in the same car as me for five fucking minutes.”

Brooke steps in before I can respond.

“Enough! I hate this. Both of you. I don’t know why you dislike each other so much. I actually think you’d be great friends if you just got over yourselves for two seconds. I’m tired of the back-biting every time you’re in the same room. When you’re in my house, you play nice. Got it?”

“I can get myself home. I’m a perfectly capable woman.” My argument loses all credibility when my stomach roils, and I drop my purse and run back to the restroom.

By the time I make it back to the front door, Linc is ready and waiting with my purse on his arm. “I’m not debating this with you, I am driving you home.”

“Fine.”

Brooke pulls me into her arms, worry marring her sweet face. “Do you want me to come with you?”

“No. You have a steak to massacre and force-feed to Anders. I’ll be okay in the morning.”

“Call me when you’re tucked up in bed.”

“I’ll try to remember.”

“Linc, make sure she gets into her apartment.”

“Will do.”

The ride down to the parking garage of their building is excruciating. Silence spans out like the sands of time, endless and as uncomfortable as bringing home half the beach in your butt crack. It’s only made worse by the car journey to my apartment and the fact that Linc insists on walking me up to my front door.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Diana?” There’s genuine affection in his voice. “I can stay for a while if you need me to.”

“You’ve done enough. Thanks for bringing me home. I don’t want to keep you from your date.” Saying those words out loud makes me want to puke again.

“Of course, you don’t.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I got the message, Diana, you don’t have to freak out. I’m a decent guy, and you’re obviously sick. I’m just making sure you’re okay, nothing more. And you’re right, I have a date with a woman who actually wants to spend time with me, so I better get going.”

Watching him walk away, knowing he’ll be warming another woman’s bed tonight is gut-wrenching, but I don’t have time to think on it too long as another round of toilet hugging takes hold. There’s nothing left in my stomach now, and the dry heaving is painful, to say the least. When it finally lets up, I strip, slip on my favorite pajamas, and crawl into bed, pulling the comforter up over my head. This clusterfuck of a night needs to end. Exhaustion finds me in the darkness, coaxing me into a dreamless sleep. Hopefully, tomorrow is a better day.

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