Page 28 of Frenemies

I let out a sigh. “Take your pants off.”

Chase rolled over and arched a brow. “Come again?”

“You heard me.”

“Sorry, Princess,” he grumbled and turned back to face the wall. “Not really in the mood to fuck you right now.”

That made me choke back a gag. There was a literal bucket of vomit five feet away. The last thing on my mind was his dick.

“When you can stand up again, remind me to slap you.”

He let out a derisive snort and pulled the blanket tighter around him. A part of me wanted to curl up and cradle him in my arms, but one look at my white blouse changed that. This was a one-of-a-kind, Valentina. No man was worth ruining that.

“Why are you even here?”

I gingerly sat down on the edge of the cot and tapped his jean-covered leg. “Someone needs to take care of you.”

Everyone else around here was incapable—morons I wouldn’t trust to change a lightbulb.

“I don’t need–” Chase jumped up and lurched forward to expel his stomach’s contents in a nearby bucket.

My nose scrunched up as I patted his back. Sure he didn’t need me. Men and their egos. I swear it was more exhausting than trying to get Bailey to take the damn pigtails out of her hair.

I pushed my hand under his shirt and rubbed his back, soothing him until he was done throwing up. One thing was for sure. I was not emptying that bucket out. Derek could do that shit.

“Go away, Naomi,” Chase groaned and flopped face down on the bed.

He acted like he didn’t want me here, but he didn’t move away from my fingers stroking him. If anything, he sighed and sunk into them. And I was happy to do it, despite the smell.

He might be anything but appealing right now, but Chase was mine. Knowing that he was safe after spending countless days wondering if he was alive was enough for me. For now, anyway.

My brows furrowed down at the moaning lump I was attempting to soothe. Since when did I care about unappreciative assholes? What had he done other than being a grouchy pain in my ass? He didn’t even notice that I’d dressed up for him.

Not that I would leave the house looking any less than my best, but today I spent extra time getting ready. So that he could have something nice to look at, and did he say anything about my hair? No.

“Just fucking kill me,” Chase muttered and rolled over.

Trust me, I’m thinking about it.

I tossed the cloth at him, “Wipe your face.”

If I had to look at the chunks on the corner of his mouth for another second, I was going to need my own bucket.

“I thought you were here to take care of me,” he sneered and scrubbed his mouth clean.

I waved at him. “I don’t do vomit.”

“If I’d have known it was that easy to get rid of you, I’d have yacked a lot sooner.”

I could feel my scowl deepen as I rolled my glare down at him. “Do you see me going anywhere?”

Ungrateful bastard. I didn’t have to come here yesterday or the day before. I could’ve left him to suffer in silence. Did I enjoy seeing him like this? Maybe a little.

“Why are you doing this?” He looked so tired, and not just because of the withdrawals.

“Shh,” I hushed while sweeping the hair off his forehead. “Get some rest.”

“Don’t waste your time on me, Naomi,” he huffed and rolled over, tucking himself under the blanket again. “You’ll just get hurt.”

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