Page 41 of Ice Bet

A warm sigh flitted from her mouth, and she readjusted herself on my shoulder, pressing her face into the crook of my neck.Jesus.She was warm, and the very tip of her nose brushed against my skin so lightly it sent a rush of heat down my arm.

My jaw flexed.

One inappropriate thought of Riley was dangerous, let alone the number I’d had tonight.

“Damn it,” I mumbled. Despite her labeling me as a stalker, I wasn’t a very good one because I didn’t have a key to her apartment.

“Either wake up or you’re staying in my room.” I could hear the rumors now.The coach’s daughter slept in Aasher Matthews’s room after he dragged her from a party.I’d be a dead man on skates.

Riley whimpered again, but this one was less breathy and resembled a whine. I fumbled with my key before rushing us into my apartment. No one was on the couch, but I knew I couldn’t drop Riley there or else I’d be cleaning up vomit off the floor the next morning.

“Aasher,” she panicked.

“I know,” I said, attempting to soothe her. “Almost there, Duster.”

My bathroom light brightened the room and gave way to Riley as she quickly slid herself down my body and ran over to the toilet. I turned my back, ready to shut the door and leave her, but I paused with my hands above my head, gripping the doorframe.

Seeing her like this brought back a feeling I didn’t want to recognize.

I shut my eyes and listened to the sound of her retching. There wasn’t much that could get me twisted inside, especially after molding a thick skin from what had happened with Savannah, but I’d admit, I was a little riled. I put on a decent front most of the time and acted nonchalant, but I was jaded.

“Hey,” I said, softer than normal. “You okay?”

She had stopped puking, and though I didn’t want to spin around, I did anyway. Riley’s lifeless body was curled around the toilet with sweat trickling down the side of her cheek and one arm wrapped around her lower stomach. “Riley?” I repeated, taking a step toward her.

Her nose scrunched, and I breathed out a relieved sigh, reminding myself that she’d just had too much to drink.She’s fine.

I walked over to the cabinet and grabbed a washcloth, wetting it with cold water. I bent down and pushed a strand of hair away from her tacky forehead. I had the uncontrollable urge to scoop her up, give her one of my shirts to wear, and put her in my bed for the rest of night so I could keep her close.

It was a fleeting feeling, but it was there.

“Here.” I placed the rag against her sticky skin. She sighed but shook against the floor with a chill. “Are you okay? Do you think you’re going to be sick again?”

“No.”

“No you’re not okay, or no you’re not going to be sick again?”

Her eyes were shut, so I scanned her features and saw her bottom lip trembling. I almost ran out the door.Fuck, is she crying?

“I’m…you won’t understand.”

Sitting back on my butt, I rested my back against the tub and put my legs up so I could rest my forearms against my knees. “Try me.” I swallowed. “Talk.”

“Why?” she asked, gripping her stomach again. Her eyes were still shut, but maybe that was what she preferred. I didn’t blame her.

“Because I just carried you for twenty minutes over my shoulder. You owe me.”

“I don’t owe you anything.” She half-laughed, but it was weak, and her face was pale. There wasn’t a lick of color on her cheeks, and I sighed, dropping my head.

“I’ll be right back. I’m getting you a Gatorade.”

She made a noise that sounded like she was on her deathbed, but before I walked out the door she whispered, “Blue.”

“Huh?”

“I like blue.”

“You get what you get, Duster,” I said, but I knew very well that if we didn’t have blue Gatorade in the fridge, I’d make sure to find one for her.

---