Page 73 of His Heart

Sebastian

I’d never been so relievedto see someone, yet so angry I could fucking kill them at the same time.

Brooke sat in my passenger’s seat, muttering drunk nonsense. I didn’t bother trying to figure out what she was saying. She was so out of it, there wasn’t any point in talking to her. So I stayed silent, my eyes on the road. Seething.

She’d seemed weird the last few days. I’d stopped by the bookstore yesterday, but Joe had told me she’d called in sick. She’d said the same thing when I’d called her—that she wasn’t feeling well. I knew it was bullshit. She wasn’t sick this time, any more than she’d been sick the last time she’d done this.

When I didn’t hear back from her earlier today, I’d gotten worried. I went to her house, expecting her to open the door a crack and make a show of not wanting me to get her germs. But she hadn’t been home.

She hadn’t answered her phone, either. Not until a couple of hours later when she’d finally picked up, sounding drunk as fuck. I’d heard voices in the background—a guy’s voice specifically. And what had sounded like an engine, and maybe road noise. Then she’d hung up on me.

I’d blown up her phone after that, but nothing. I’d gone out looking for her, still trying to get through. After looking everywhere I could think of, I’d been about ten seconds away from calling the police. Then her number had lit up my phone.

Some guy had been on the other end. I’d almost come unglued, but he’d been calling in the hopes that I was someone who could come get her.

I was pretty sure I’d scared the piss out of him when I’d shown up at his door. I hadn’t meant to be a dick; I was grateful he’d been a decent human being and hadn’t taken advantage of her. But I’d also been angry as hell, and I’d stormed in there like I was ready to rip anyone and everyone to pieces.

If he had hurt her, I would have.

She was passed out again by the time we got to my house. I picked her up, cradling her like a baby, and took her inside. Charlie looked up from the couch. He’d stayed home in case she showed up here while I was out looking.

“Holy shit,” he said. “Is she okay?”

“Just piss fucking drunk,” I said.

“Need any help?” he asked.

“No, I’ve got her.”

I took her upstairs, and before I realized what I was doing, I put her in my bed. I could have dumped her in the extra room, but I didn’t move her.

She didn’t seem like she was going to wake up, so I took off her shoes and pulled the covers up around her. I was exhausted, so I stripped down to my boxers and a t-shirt. I stood next to the bed, hands on my hips, looking at her for a moment. Debating what to do. Should I leave her here and go sleep in the extra room? Sleep in here on the floor? In the end, I decided to say fuck it all to good decisions and got in bed with her.

* * *

Brooke was still sound asleep—orpassed out—when my alarm woke me in the morning. I hadn’t slept well. My body ached from sleeping in an awkward position, trying to give her room. As much as I’d wanted to wrap my arms around her and hold her while she slept, I’d resisted the urge. Being pissed had made that easier. But none of it had made for a restful night.

Thankfully, she hadn’t puked in my bed. I held a hand close to her face to make sure she was still breathing—she was—and got up. I was glad I’d woken up first. I didn’t want to deal with the awkwardness of waking up in bed with her when she probably wouldn’t remember most of last night.

I went downstairs to take my pills. It was important for me to take them at the same time every day, hence the alarm. After swallowing them all, I put on a pot of coffee and sat down at the table. They always made me a little shaky after taking them, so I waited for the feeling to pass.

Soft footsteps came from the stairs. They weren’t Charlie’s heavy footfalls. He wasn’t up yet. I wasn’t expecting to see Brooke this early, but she crept into the kitchen, her face a mix of confusion and worry. Her hair was a tangled mess, her shirt disheveled, and her shoes dangled from one hand.

I leveled her with a hard stare. I wasn’t going to let her get away with this shit.

“You don’t know how you got here, do you?” I asked.

She had the decency to look guilty, and shook her head. “No.”

“How about I tell you what I know, and you can fill me in on the rest,” I said.

“Okay.”

“You were apparently too sick to work yesterday, but not too sick to go out,” I said. “You got wasted out of your goddamn mind and took off with a bunch of fucking frat boys.”

She stared at the ground.

“Do you know how lucky you are?” I asked, my voice rising. “That guy you almost hooked up with could have done anything to you last night. You were passed out on his fucking couch. He could have violated you in a hundred different ways.”

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