Page 20 of Accidental Baby For My Brother’s Best Friend

Gemma

I’ve never had a real hangover. Mostly because I don’t overindulge. I don’t like being out of control, and if you drink enough, you’ll hit that wall where you begin to forget what happened. Well, I guess there’s a first time for everything. I’m sprawled on the bed still in my dress and heels, so obviously, I did overindulge, for once. I try to peel open my eyes, and icepicks immediately stab into my temples.

“Oh Jesus H. Christmas,” I mutter a half forgotten saying of my father’s, and I slowly stand up, wobbling on my stilettos before I kick them off. Not fun surviving to get to your room, with no memory of how you even got there, only to die from lack of high-heel balance and hitting your head on something. At first, everything is a blur, but slowly, things start to come back to me. My rage at Locke for following me around and not leaving me alone with Axel. My disappointment at my friend, who left me to fend for myself. But mostly the anger at how things went last night.

I stumble to the bathroom to wash my face, groaning softly when my head pounds with every step. This is why I don’t overindulge. The first time I did was in high school with the cheapest wine coolers anyone has ever had. They tasted like sparkling water and I woke up with a very respectable headache, but nothing like this.

I guess tequila is a harsher mistress than white wine spritzers. I groan and drink about a gallon of water from the tap, refilling that stupid paper cup the hotel gives you over and over. After I’ve had about five of those, I start to feel a little better. Not better enough to consider putting on makeup or looking decent before going downstairs with my luggage. I’m late but no one has called me, oddly enough. I guess everyone must have slept in.

Downstairs, the only people that are waiting are Locke and Samuel, and Locke looks away the second I glance at him. Fine. Not like I want to speak to him, anyway, after the way he acted last night.

I look down at my phone, frowning, and instantly call Jackson. I’m not surprised Axel is as late as me (over an hour), but Jackson usually shows up on time. As the phone starts to ring, I see my brother sprinting through the parking lot and through the front doors, so I hang up, looking up at him.

“What the hell happened to you?” Jackson asks, ever sensitive to my feelings.

“Lovely,” I croak, and then put a hand to my throat, surprised at my voice. “Tequila happened to me, what about you?”

Jackson rubs at his right ear and looks away.

“Same. Tequila is a bitch.”

I look him over. He looks disheveled enough that he could be hungover, but he doesn’t smell like alcohol. However, I can’t get mad that my brother didn’t get blackout drunk last night and I nearly did, so I decide to let it go. I let most things go with Jackson, honestly, and not because I don’t care. He’s done so much for me that I can’t bring myself to nag him too much.

Fortunately, I don’t have that problem with the rest of the members, so I call Axel on repeat until he tromps down the stairs with his luggage, groaning like a big baby. I’m a little upset with him still, but he gives me a big, open smile, and I can’t help but return it.

“Stop vibrating,” Samuel grumbles, and when I look over at Locke, he’s jiggling his thigh up and down, his hair falling over his face. He blows his bangs back with a huff and stands up.

“Just ready to get the hell out of Albuquerque,” Locke replies.

“Amen,” Axel says firmly, and we go outside to load up the tour bus.

Locke doesn’t speak to me or to anyone else, and Samuel sits beside me instead of next to Locke, which shocks me. I’m also surprised that Axel sits next to me, after last night. I guess he is trying to make amends, or maybe he doesn’t even remember what happened at all.

Jackson calls for first shift driving and I’m grateful. I feel a little woozy.

Axel leans down, close to my ear.

“We need greasy hangover food.”

I nod so vigorously it makes me dizzy and catch Locke looking at me. When I meet his eyes, he flushes, the sight of it nearly imperceptible on his tan skin.

What the hell is his deal?I think as he looks away. I guess it’s anger, but what on earth he could be mad about escapes me. Since Jackson didn’t bang on my door at four in the morning, I surmise that Locke hasn’t spoken to my brother about the last night.

I start to stand up to ask Jackson to stop for food before we get on the highway, but Axel puts a hand on my thigh to stop me, laughing softly.

“It’s okay, doll. I’m more used to hangovers than you are. I’ll ask.”

It’s an oddly gentlemanly thing for Axel to do, and nicer than he’s probably ever been to me without me thinking he wants in my pants, so I’m grateful and smile at him.

Samuel leans over the spot that Axel vacates and, apparently I’m privy to all kinds of secrets today, because he whispers in my ear,

“Don’t worry. I’ll make this happen.”

I nod dumbly even though I have no idea what he’s talking about. Well, I have some idea. I confessed to Samuel that I am attracted to Axel some time ago, and Samuel has always been supportive of me breaking out of my shell and going for what I want. I guess that’s what he means, but I think his promise will be a lot harder to keep than he thinks. Between my brother and Locke fucking Kincaid, I might be cockblocked for the rest of my miserable life.

Waffle House hashbrowns and coffee bring me back to life and I’m even humming as I play slapjack with Axel on the trip. Two hours in, the coffee hits Samuel hard and he all but pushes Jackson out of the driver’s seat to pull off into a bathroom.

I’m approaching what I like to call the shadow-realm, which is a place Jackson and I always joke about when I get to the point of exhaustion and sleep deprivation where everything is hilarious and I can’t stop giggling. I only managed four hours of reedy sleep last night, induced by my frenemy, tequila. I’m already fighting back laughter as Samuel sprints into the dirty outdoor stall at the only gas station we could find.

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