Page 47 of Inflame

“I’m going to start getting a complex when one of the few times you voluntarily touch me, you laugh,” he points out, helping me to stand upright. It’s a challenge even for him, because I basically feel like my legs turned into pool noodles. His eyes dance with humor, when I’m finally able to get a good look at him again.

Tears drip out of my eyes from all of the laughter. And then my stomach starts to rumble and twist. Sweat beads on my forehead and I know I’m going to—

I dart away from Nic and rush to the nearest restroom. I burst through the door and into the nearest stall. I double over as horrible cramps overtake my body. Hands gather my hair just in time as the first wave hits—like a Mack truck that just lost its brakes. I lurch into the porcelain bowl. A hand wraps around my waist to keep me stable, all while my hair stays out of my angry stream of bad decisions.

Nic’s soothing voice coats my insides, as the second wave hits with equal force.

My stomach heaves every sinful drop of liquid from my body. I vow to never drink this much again. I feel like death. I moan at the realization that Nic saw me at a low point. It’s not like I’m openly trying to impress anyone, but I still like to preserve the image I work so hard at maintaining.

“You okay there?”

“Hmm mmm.”

“Able to walk?”

I nod. I can’t bring myself to look back until I am certain my stomach is settled. “Why d’ju follow me?”

“I knew you were in trouble when you ran for the men’s room without a second glance.”

“Oh.” I didn’t even notice. “Thanks for holdin’ my hair,” I say, turning around and offering a weak smile. I feel nasty.

I rip off a wad of toilet paper and wipe my mouth. Yuck. I hate throwing up.

Several men walk in and see Nic standing in the open door. His body is so massive that he dwarfs me in the confined space of the stall. The onlookers watch me wiping my face off. I get a few winks and nods. Ew. No. I guess being in the men’s room with a guy who looks like a male model gives people a certain first impression of me. Oh well.

I push around Nic and move over to the sink area to clean up. Other than the condom dispenser on the wall, the place is very luxurious.

We exit, and I take a rest on the chairs that are arranged between the two bathroom entrances, trying to get my head in working order.

“I think I’m going to walk back to the hotel. Can you let Graham and Angie know?”

“I’m walking back with you. Graham and Angie left an hour ago. Before we head back, we better first go grab some juice so you don’t dehydrate. Maybe some carbs too?”

I nod. I am surprisingly hungry after this fiasco. “Why did you let me drink so many free drinks?”

“Let you?” He reaches for my hand and tugs me up toward him. “When you have your mind set on something, there’s no stopping you.”

“One of my strengths,” I respond with a half laugh.

“If you call being a stubborn lightweight a strength, then yeah. Sure.”

I narrow my eyes at his sarcasm. “I’m not a lightweight. I can drink most people under the table,” I defend.

“And then throw it all up thirty minutes later.”

“Ugh, well, that was not part of the plan.”

“Never is.”

“Sorry you had to witness my demise,” I say sheepishly.

“No need to be embarrassed. I’m just disappointed you didn’t follow through with the lap dance you promised me. Luckily for me, I got you to agree to a raincheck.”

“I didn’t,” I gasp, my mouth wide open.

He bursts out laughing, and I know now that he’s just messing with me.

“You’re horrible.”

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