Page 38 of Never To Forever

“I’m fine,” she whispers. “I… I think I just want to go to bed.”

“All right, I’ll help you.”

She tries to protest. “No, it’s okay…”

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” I tell her, looping my arm around her waist. “You need help. I didn’t realize you were so drunk, so let me help you get inside and up to bed, okay?”

“I’m not drunk,” she mumbles, but I ignore that as I help her get to the front door.

Opening it, I take her inside and we make our way upstairs to her bedroom. I only let her go when we’re inside the room and I’m certain she won’t fall down the stairs or stumble and hurt herself. She goes into her bathroom and shuts the door. The water turns on in her sink. As I wait for her to come back out, I can’t help but wonder how I didn’t notice that she was so drunk to the point of getting sick. She seemed perfectly coherent the entire time we’ve been together. She doesn’t even smell like alcohol.

What does that mean for our fight? Did she only say those things because she’s intoxicated? They’d seemed so sincere—her anger so real.

It’s possible being drunk only made her more honest. Whatever the case may be, it’s not something I should worry about right now. I just need to make sure that she’s okay and get her settled for the night.

A few minutes later, Marie opens the bathroom door and steps out. She’s changed into an oversized t-shirt that barely reaches her thighs, so when she walks, I get a good look at her panties. My cock twitches at the sight, and I struggle to keep my lust under control. Now’s not the time. Hold your shit together, man!

Marie drags her feet to her bed and climbs up and buries herself under the covers. I move to the side of the bed and sit next to her. With a gentle touch, I brush her hair back from her forehead.

“Do you want to get you some water?” I ask.

“I’m okay,” she murmurs. Her eyes are already closed. “I swear, I’m not drunk.”

Sure she’s not. I’m not going to argue with her, though. She doesn’t have a fever, so I doubt she’s sick because she’s got a bug. It doesn’t really matter. I don’t care if she’s drunk. I’ve been worse than her plenty of times before. She’s in bed now, safe and sound, and that’s all I really care about.

“All right,” I say in a soft voice. “Get some sleep and I’ll check in with you in the morning, okay?”

“M’kay,” she mumbles, snuggling deeper into her blankets.

I lean down and press a soft kiss at her temple. She’s kind of adorable like this. I sit a few more minutes until her breathing grows even and steady. She’s fast asleep.

Slowly and carefully, I make my way to the bedroom door. I pause to look back at her and my heart twists in my chest at how peaceful she looks. A part of me wants to go back, climb into bed next to her, and hold her until morning.

I resist the urge, telling myself that she’s sick. She might wake up and not even remember what all happened tonight. Releasing a long breath, I turn and continue down the hallway, down the stairs, and out the front door, making sure to lock it before I close it behind me. When I reach the sidewalk, I turn back to gaze up at her house.

My lips still tingle from our kiss. What am I going to do? I’m not sure if I can continue with this back and forth with Marie for much longer. Every time I think I have myself under control with her, something happens and my desire wins. I just can’t seem to stop myself. Do I just stop fighting it? Give in and pursue whatever it is I’m feeling for her?

Where would that leave me with my promise to Mom? The thought of her being disappointed in me for not taking care of Marie like a sister is something I can’t stand.

Shaking my head, I walk away from the house. One way or another, I have to figure this out, because if I don’t, I’m only going to end up hurting Marie even more than I already have. That’s not what Mom would want either.

It’s time for me to grow some balls and make my choice.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

MARIE

My stomach is killing me.I was hoping a good night’s sleep would make me feel better, but I’m nauseous and have a dull headache throbbing behind my eyes. Curling up under my blankets, I debate whether to even get out of bed. What’s wrong with me? I haven’t been feeling great the last few days, and I thought it was due to stress and my confused emotions about Garrett.

Now I’m not so sure. This feels like something more. Like I’m actually sick.

God, last night was such a mess. The creep on the dance floor. Garrett coming to my rescue and walking me home. Our kiss.

That kiss! It was so hot, and then I ruined it when I threw up. Garrett was so gentle and caring as he took care of me afterward. Of course, he assumed I was drunk, which I wasn’t—I didn’t drink a drop of alcohol last night. I was just too exhausted to argue with him, and fell asleep before he left.

I think he kissed my forehead. He brushed the hair from my face, his fingertips light along my skin. Soothing. Comforting. It felt really good to have someone taking care of me like that.

Too bad I still feel like total shit.

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