Page 22 of Phantom Faceoff
We spend the rest of our time in silence. Me steadying him. Zander still and breathing slow until I realize he’s asleep.
When Micky comes, I help get him into the passenger seat, and once the door is shut Micky turns to me and thumbs to the back.
“Need a ride?”
No. I need time to clear my head. To remind myself that the last thing I need is to find a single fucking thing about Zander Hale attractive.
“I think I’ll walk,” I say, stuffing my hands in my pockets. “May as well get some coffee while I’m out.”
Micky smiles tight and gives a curt nod. “Thanks for looking out for him.”
When they drive away, I find myself sagging against the wall and screwing my eyes shut.
Why?
Why does it have to be Zander Hale—of all people—to awaken something likethisinside me?
Chapter Seven
Zander
The world comesinto focus littered with little black spots. I turn my head to clear dream from reality and—yup—vomit rises in my throat as my vision swims.
“Welcome back, sunshine.”
I know that sarcastic deadpan anywhere.
“Tess,” I groan, keeping my eyes firmly sealed shut. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
She hums, the sound a little more animated, and something cool and wet touches my forehead.
“Got into town last night. Micky invited me over. Asked me to make sure you don’t choke on your own vomit while he’s in class.”
Oof. That tracks.
My memory isn’t entirely shot, but because of the pounding pain in my head I can only really access snapshots and audio tidbits. Once I get the hangover under control, the rest should come back to me.
“I’ve got some migraine relief and the mother-load of water waiting for you once you feel up for it.”
I press down on the rag draped over my eyes. “I’ll take it now and get it over with.”
Tessa helps me prop up on a couple of pillows, and with my eyes still avoiding the light, she hands me some pills that I promptly down with the entire glass of water.
“Fuck me,” I grumble and pull the covers up over my face.
I need to sleep this damn shit off.
“Did you know you talk in your sleep?”
C’mon, Tess.
“Do I? I’m sure the pancake monster dreams were a joy to hear about.”
Another hum, this one more melodic. “No pancake monsters as far as I’m aware.”
Why does she have to sound so entertained?
“If you’re going to accuse me of something, I’d like to point out that I was too drunk for anything I said or did to be incriminating. I was quite literally out of my mind.”
