Page 31 of Ruled Out

“Okay, now it’s time to let it out. You’re going to feel a million times better once you do.”

“Knox, I can’t. It’s like a mental block. I know I need to, but my mind won't let me. Throwing up terrifies me.” Before I can get another word out, an audible groan of pain leaves my body. “Fuckkk,” I curse. “Knox, I don’t know what to do. Please help me,” I cry, finally letting the tears flow like a waterfall. The panic has officially set in.

“You’re going to hate me… but think about all the shots you took last night. Think about taking one right now, the alcohol burning down your throat.”

“Stop! Oh my God, I’m going to vomit,” I shout, starting to hyperventilate.

“That’s the point, baby,” he says, rubbing my back with one hand and holding me to him with the other.

Did he just call me…

“Oh my God, I’m going to die. This is the end. I’m dying,” I cry, as shivers take over my sweat drenched body.

“You’re not dying, Bee. You just need to throw up. This is a natural reaction your body is having to the alcohol. You’re anxious, which is causing your symptoms to intensify. This is all going to pass. Once you get it out, you’ll feel better, I promise. I’m right here. I’ll be with you the entire time,” he soothes, continuing to hold and caress me.

“Ughhh,” I groan and hiccup at the same time. I fold my arms over the toilet seat, my chest heaving from my soft cries.

“Let’s talk about that shot again,” he continues. “Star fucker, huh? A mixture of so many delicious things. Crown Royal, Schnapps, Red Bull…”

I fucking lose it at the mention of Crown Royal. I don’t even have a second to process what’s happening before I’m puking my entire soul out into the toilet. I swear to God, I don’t stop throwing up for what feels like five minutes.

“That’s it, Bee. I’ve got you,” Knox says in a comforting tone, keeping me calm as noises that sound like an exorcism leave my body.This is so embarrassing.

“Knox… I can’t believe I’m in your bathroom, throwing my guts up. I’m so sor-” I don’t finish my sentence before I gag and continue puking, my body shaking with each heave. There’s basically nothing left in my stomach; I’m literally throwing up bile at this point.

“Never apologize to me, baby. I would much rather you be here with me than anywhere else,” he replies, placing a kiss to the back of my head.

This man is kissing me as I’m vomiting like a damn feral animal.If I wasn't catching feels before, I sure as hell am now. He’s never been this affectionate with me before. It’s like seeing me sick broke down a wall he’s been keeping up.

I spend a few minutes just taking deep breaths as Knox continues to rub circles into my back. I’m already starting to feel a thousand times better, thanks to him. He was right, getting that toxic shit out of my system is already making a world of difference.

“You okay?” he whispers into my ear once my breathing steadies.

“I think so,” I reply. “Thank you.” I keep my head down between my legs, too ashamed to make eye contact.

“Phoebe, look at me.”

“No. I’m so embarrassed, Knox. I can’t believe that just happened,” I reply in a tiny whisper. He grabs my face gently in both his hands, forcing me to turn my head and look up at him.

“You havenothingto be embarrassed about,” he replies, his eyes flickering back and forth between mine. “I’m sure this isn’t news to you, but I think you’re absolutely perfect, Phoebe. So please, don’t ever be embarrassed around me.Ever.”

If my mouth wasn't coated in vomit, I would grab his face and kiss the shit out of him right now. I don’t care if he would want me to or not; I need his lips on mine after that confession. I can’t seem to get a word out as I stare at him in shock.

“What can I get you?” he clears his throat, breaking the trance between us. “Water? Food? Just let me know what you need.”

“Um, a toothbrush and mouthwash would be a good start,” I answer honestly, letting out a small laugh.

“I think I have an extra toothbrush in the cabinet, let me check,” he notes, making sure I’m steady before he stands and opens the cabinet door. “Bingo.” He holds up the toothbrush in victory.

He’s so damn cute.

After he takes the toothbrush out of the plastic package, he tosses the container in the trash and reaches for my hand.

“Here, let me help you up,” he says, wrapping an arm around my waist as I stand.

Once I’m standing, we’re chest to chest, the heat of his body radiating against mine. We just stare at each other for a moment before he finally clears his throat and leads me toward the sink.

He stays behind me the entire time I’m brushing my teeth, watching my every move in the mirror, like he’s afraid I might fall over. I’ve never brushed my teeth for so long in my entire life. I’m surprised my gums are still intact. There’s nothing worse than the taste of lingering vomit. Once I finish brushing my teeth, I gargle with mouthwash for what feels like five minutes. After I spit out the remainder of the minty liquid, my eyes meet his in the mirror.

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