Page 7 of Can't Be Love

“Maddie told me my bags were in my room at the top of the stairs. Those are my bags, you idiot. What are you doing here?”

I ignored the verbal jab, though I felt its impact. “I didn’t know you were staying in here. I swear. I came in to lay down for a bit and fell asleep.”

She snapped her fingers like things were starting to click into place and turned on me. “You were hiding from Sydney. I saw you run into the house. And you don’t even live here. She told me that last night.”

“Shit, you talked to Sydney?” I said, feeling the walls of my world closing in on me.

“Yes, we went out and bonded over drinks,” she said, and I wasn’t sure anything would have surprised me more. Lily and Sydney together could not happen.

“Lily, please tell me you did not tell Sydney you are my mate,” I said as patiently as possible, trying not to freak the hell out.

I saw tears prick her eyes and she jumped up and ran for the first door she saw, frantically motioning as she leaned down and puked in my closet.

“Great,” I said aloud, getting out of bed and walking over to her. When the first wave finished wracking her body, I scooped her up and carried her to the next door over, which was the bathroom I sure hoped she had been looking for. I lifted the toilet seat as she cradled around it and threw up some more. Three more times and she began retching, her stomach seemingly emptied.

I took a wash cloth from the cabinet and turned the water on, leaving it till it ran warm. I flushed the toilet even though she was groaning and still hugging it, then sat on the floor behind her and pulled her carefully back against my chest. She was miserable and complacent. I gently washed her face and hands as her head leaned back against my chest.

The feeling of holding my mate in my arms, caring for her for the first time, was overwhelming. I breathed in her scent, but was greeted by the smell of vomit.

“Okay, you really need to shower, and brush your teeth. Jesus, what did you drink last night?”

“A fifth of Jack,” she surprised me by confessing.

“Huh, that much to rid yourself of the idea of being my mate?”

“Yes,” she confessed. “But I didn’t need to worry. You already have a mate.”

I hadn’t expected her to answer, let alone feel like she slapped me across the face with her response.

“Come on, slugger. Shower time.”

“I don’t think I can stand. The room’s still spinning, and my head is pounding. Can you make me a bath instead?”

“Sure,” I said. I needed to put some space between us to clear my head, so I left her on the floor to go and draw her bath. When I looked back over, she was crawling out the door. I rolled my eyes, praying she didn’t puke anywhere else. I knew I still had the closet to contend with.

She stumbled back in on two feet and over to the sink, quickly brushing her teeth and gargling with some mouthwash she must have had in her bag.

“I’m never drinking again,” she swore, holding her head in pain.

“Come on, let’s get you settled in the tub and if you promise not to drown while I’m gone, I’ll get you something for that headache.”

“Really?” she asked, looking at me like I was the only life preserver in middle of the sea.

I gulped. “Really. Now come on,”

She quickly removed her bra and panties and I tried to do the right thing and not look, but damn! This was Lily Westin. This was my true mate. And at the end of the day, I was still a red-blooded American male and she had the body of a goddess.

I helped her down into the hot water, telling myself to ignore the way her breasts brushed against my arm. She moaned in pleasure as she sank into the warmth of the bath and I knew I had to get out of there quickly, lest I do something we both would regret. Okay, so my only regret would really be in acting while I was fairly certain she was still drunk.

Once I knew she was settled, I headed downstairs and into the kitchen. It seemed everyone in the house was there.

“Thomas?” my mother said in surprise. “What are you doing here, sweetheart?”

“Slept over last night,” I said honestly.

“Oh, you did? Where?” she asked.

“My old room.”

---