Page 67 of Resist

I groaned. “You don’t have to—”

“It’s fine, Mara. Just don’t throw up on me.” The humor lingered in his voice, but the thought of vomiting all over Wes caused a wave of embarrassment that did not play nice with my stomach. That was the last thing I wanted—to puke purple acid all over the guy who was trying to help me back to my room. God, if this is what happened to people when they drank alcohol, people were freaking dumb. Who the hell would do this to themselves on purpose? I closed my eyes again, trying my best to take deep steadying breaths, begging the darkness to stop spinning. I mean, how was that even possible? How could things be twirling around when there was nothing to see in the first place?

After a few bumps—and to my dismay, a few close calls—Wes shouldered the door to my room. It swung open on silent hinges as he took several steps to the bed and laid me down. Feeling the soft mattress and plush comforter supporting my weight felt so good, but it did little to make the world stop spinning.

“How do you feel?”

“Like crap,” I groused as I peeked my eyes open. He chuckled at my misery. “It’s not funny.”

“It’s hilarious.”

“I think your mom was trying to poison me.”

“Probably.”

“What?” I shot up, instantly regretting it, and threw my hands up to cover my eyes as I flopped back on the bed.

This time, he laughed. “I’m kidding. My mom didn’t poison you. It’s not her style.”

I peeked out from under my hands, arching a brow. “Meaning?”

He gave me that smirk of his, that crooked grin that left me feeling all mixed up inside. “Meaning nothing. I’m just messing with you.” He took several steps away from the bed. “Let me get you some water.” He disappeared into the bathroom, and after a few minutes, came back with a glass of water while cupping his other hand.

Slowly sitting up, I took the glass from him. “What’s this?” I asked as he dropped two little blue pills in my palm.

“It’ll help you feel better tonight. You’re going to feel like shit in the morning, but it’ll help for now.”

Taking his word for it, I slung the two pills back and gulped water like my life depended on it, down to the last drop. Just as I was about to put the glass on the nightstand, Wes took it from me, walked to the bathroom, and returned with another full glass.

“Another one?”

He nodded. “But sip this one slowly. It’s better if you wait until the dizziness stops before you go to sleep. So, you might as well hydrate.” I sighed, taking the glass from him, and watched as he began stepping back toward the door. “Feel better,” he said unceremoniously.

“Wait.” I stretched my hand out toward him. “Don’t you think we should talk about what happened?”

Wes sighed as he tipped his head back, staring at the ceiling. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

I cocked a brow at him. “I might be drunk, or whatever the hell this is, but I’m not blind. What the hell was that?”

Wes rolled his head on his neck, lazily turning to face me. “It’s called ‘family drama.’ We’ve all got some, even here in the North.” He oozed nonchalance, but I wasn’t stupid. What happened at dinner definitely bothered him…more than he wanted me to know. He was pushing me out, shielding himself.

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“That,” I said hotly, throwing my hands up at him. The world spun again, and I quickly flattened my palms against the bed on either side of me, trying to stop the spinning. “You do this macho crap and act like a jerk. Don’t do that.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he deflected.

“Baloney. You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“Whatever. I’m going to my room.” He gave me his back and walked toward the door. “Go to bed, Mara. See you tomorrow.” It was an order, and that tone made me bristle.

Oh no you don’t!

I was so done with Wes always deflecting everything, hiding everything inside himself. I wasn’t stupid, and I knew him way better than he would ever care to know. And while I had no intentions of marrying him, I still considered him my friend. Spinning room or not, I swung my legs off the bed, marched over, and grabbed his arm. The action caused my whole body to tip sideways as my room twirled, but Wes’s steadying hands shot out and seized me by the hips.

“What the hell, Mara?”

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