BOOK TWO OF THE SCARLETT CHRONICLES |
After being kidnapped as a young child, seventeen year old Scarlett Grey found her way home to her family. For months, she struggled to find a balance between the girl she'd left behind and the girl she had beco...
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THE POUNDING OF my head woke me up the next morning, just in time for me to feel my stomach heave. I bolted out of bed and into the adjoined bathroom just in time to throw up the contents of my stomach into the toilet.
Once my angry stomach was empty and the mess flushed away, I slouched over against the bathroom vanity with an exhausted sigh. The tiles under my legs were cool and soothing against my bare skin and I resisted the urge to lie down and press my cheek against the marble stone.
The night was a blur of faceless bodies, loud noises and acrid, smoky smells. I didn't remember exactly what I'd done after returning to Declan or how we'd gotten back to the apartment. I cringed inwardly at the thought that he had probably driven us. He had only had one beer, that I'd seen. Me, on the other hand...
There wasn't a knock before the door was nudged open and Declan leaned against the doorframe. "You okay?"
I pushed my hair out of my face with one hand and nodded. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you. Or make your bathroom smell like vomit."
"Don't worry about it," he said, pushing off the door frame and coming to stand in front of me. He reached down, slid his hands under my arms and hauled me gently to my feet. Only then, when we were standing a foot apart and I could feel the heat coming off of his body, did I realize his chest was bare and he wore only a pair of black sweatpants.
I let my palms press into the smooth skin of his well defined chest, warming them immediately. The cold floor had been nice, but the heat coming off of Declan was even better.
When my eyes fluttered shut and he pulled me into a cozy embrace, I noticed I hadn't done much better than him in the clothing department. I had on one of Declan's long sleeve shirts and my underwear, apparently having forgotten to put my shorts on before crawling into bed. Blood rushed to my cheeks at the thought.
He pressed a kiss to the side of my head. Morning breath was one thing, this was another. "Get cleaned up and I'll go make us some eggs. There's mouthwash in the cabinet."
My stomach roiled at the thought of food, but I swallowed down the feeling before I could start dry-heaving over the toilet. "Okay," I told him instead. "Thanks."
