Page 39 of To Hate You

And she did. In fact, I didn’t think I’d ever seen her eat that much before. She was talking and eating, smiling and laughing, and I finally caught a glimpse of the girl I had fallen in love with. The girl who took everything in her stride; strong, confident, breathtaking.

She wiped her mouth with a paper napkin and placed it on her plate. “These pancakes are a real close second to my mom’s.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Both of us got up simultaneously, and she started gathering the dishes, but I took her hand and squeezed it tight. “Sit down. I got this.”

“I can help.”

“It’s okay. I want you to relax.”

Lifting herself on her toes, she pecked my cheek. “Thank you,” she murmured, dragging her fingertip along my jaw. That simple touch sent a shiver down my back, her kiss lingering on my flesh. If I had the power to make the rest of the world disappear so it’s only us, I’d do it. All I needed was her.

Her eyes.

Her face.

Her lips.

Her smile.

Nothing compared to her, and nothing ever would. I was so in love with this woman it consumed me with its chaos—a myriad of mayhem and emotions.

My eyes settled on her waist as she walked toward the leather sofa, swaying her hips and the shirt she wore, giving me a glimpse of the round flesh of her ass with every step. I didn’t think she had ever looked this sexy, dressed in my white Levi T. And knowing I could have her any time I wanted fucked with my head since now I wanted her all the damn time.

Sienna sat down on the couch, then placed a hand on her stomach, suddenly as pale as a ghost.

“Hey, you okay over there?”

“I um,” she winced, “I think I’m gonna throw up.”

The next minute she rushed across the room, clutching her stomach and holding a hand over her mouth.

“Sienna, what—”

The bathroom door slammed shut, followed by the sickening sound of her retching.

“Sienna,” I turned the doorknob, “are you okay?”

“Don’t come in here.”

I froze. “You’re sick. Let me help.”

“Do not come in here, Noah. I don’t want you to see me like this.”

“Fuck that shit.” I stormed inside and rushed to where she sat, hunched over the toilet seat. “What just happened?”

I gathered her hair in my hands and held it up out of her face as her body stiffened and her back arched with another bout of vomiting. Reaching out next to her, she grabbed a piece of toilet paper and wiped her mouth. “I told you not to come in here.”

“You’re sick. The fuck, I’m not going to come in here and help.”

“I’m fine.” She leaned back, her face ashen and eyes watery as she continued to clutch her belly. “I think I overdid it with the pancakes.”

I frowned. “You sure that’s it?”

“Hmm-mm. Too much sugar, probably.”

I helped her up and kept a close eye on her as she gargled mouthwash. At first, she insisted walking on her own, but after the first dizzy spell, I scooped her up and carried her to bed.

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