Page 80 of How to Get Even

She needed to think. She needed space. She needed not to think of him standing there in a towel and nothing else.

She dressed quickly and went looking for him in the other room, trying not to squeal in horror when she saw him on the sofa reading Delia’s book.

‘Oh Jesus Christ,’ she said, before she could stop herself.

Chase’s eyes snapped to hers and he laughed. ‘Bella! Language.’

‘Get out,’ she snapped while holding onto her head to make sure that it didn’t fall off.

‘What kind of person would I be, if left you alone with what I’m fairly confident is one hell of a hangover?’

‘I’m fine,’ she insisted, hoping that she wasn’t about to throw up.

He cocked his head to one side and she scrunched her eyes shut again, hating the way that made her feel almost sea sick.

‘Could you… not,’ she said, gesturing to him with her hand – the other one was still holding onto her head.

‘Fat, sugar, carbs and fresh air,’ he declared.

Bile rose in the back of her throat. ‘I don’t think I can,’ she admitted, the hand holding her head moving to her stomach.

‘’Tis the only way, I’m afraid.’

She whimpered again.

‘Don’t worry, I’ve got you,’ he promised, holding her coat out for her to put her arms into.

It was probably easier just to do what he said, rather than to try and think for herself, so she decided to go with it.

‘Out of curiosity,’ he asked as he ushered her down the hallway, ‘what’s the last thing you remember?’

She felt the blood drain from her face. ‘Why?’

‘No reason,’ he replied, rather too innocently for her liking.

‘I remember you putting ice in my whisky glass,’ she offered.

What do you want? For yourself?

Her head throbbed, trying to remember what had happened after, and the blank space made her back away from the elevator.

‘Actually, I think I should just stay?—’

He turned her back to face the elevator and pushed her forwards as the doors opened.

‘You need food. I’m 90 per cent sure that the contents of your stomach are currently wine and scotch, and that the last thing you ate was half a ham sandwich from yesterday’s lunch.’

‘I hate you a little bit right now.’

‘I can live with that,’ he said smugly as he pressed the button for the lobby.

* * *

By the time Chase led her from the freezing cold into the warmth of the diner, Bella had decided that she’d happily murder him. They’d barely said a word on the fifteen-minute walk. Partly because she was still trying not to throw up, even if she did have to admit that the sharp slap of near freezing cold air was actually helping.

‘Chocolate milkshake, cheeseburger with fries, and onion rings, twice,’ he told the waitress who came to take their order.

‘Twice?’ Bella hissed as the waitress turned away with a knowing smile. ‘Twice?’ she repeated again when Chase chose to ignore her.

---