Page 146 of The Vacation Mix-Up
“And four solos.”
“What?” Flopping back on my bed, I groan, “Kill me now.”
“My personal favorite was ‘My Humps’ by Black Eyed Peas.”
“Nooo.” I wrench my head back up, regretting it the moment I do, the room spinning. “Why’d you let me sing?”
“Because you wanted to.”
“No, Riley. No, I didn’t.” I close my eyes momentarily, remorse twisting my already twisting stomach. How I thought drowning my grief with liquor was a splendid idea is beyond me. Grief doesn’t drown; it floats. Never swimming. Never sinking.
Riley disappears behind the room partition to where the TV and desk are, returning with his hands behind his back before presenting me with a gold ship trophy. “Your ‘singing’ earned you this.”
“No way!” I scramble out of bed and snatch it from him. “I won karaoke?”
“You did.”
“Huh.” Proudly holding it up, I marvel at my prize until I become acutely aware I’m standing before him in nothing but my underwear, his eyes leisurely roaming my body.
“Turn around!” I shriek, covering my lady bits.
“I’ve seen you in a bikini, Riles.”
“I know, but underwear is different.”
“I’ve seen you in your underwear too.”
“You have?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Last night, when I put you to bed.”
My eyes bulge. “Youundressed me?”
“I had to.”
“Why?”
“Because you were in no state to do it yourself.”
“Right. I suppose I wasn’t.” I scratch my head. “But you were drunk too.”
“Nope.”
“Yes, you were. I remember you drinking with me.”
“I had four beers, then stopped.”
“Why?”
He lifts one solitary eyebrow, and I know what it means. He stopped so he could look after me, to make sure I didn’t do anything stupid… other than embarrass myself with a microphone, apparently.
I groan again. “Ugh! Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
