Chapter Fourteen
Nick
“Why am I spooning a dog?”
“I was asking Ollie that same question.” I closed my magazine, forgoing the article I couldn’t focus on enough to actually read. “How do you feel?”
“Like death.” Evie moved onto her back, throwing her forearm over her eyes and resting one hand on her stomach. “And like puking.”
I got to my feet, grabbing the small bathroom trashcan and bringing it closer to the bed. Part of me wanted to demand that she use the toilet, but I seriously doubted she was steady enough to manage it by herself. “Here. Try not to miss.”
As soon as I sat it down, she rolled over and threw up. There wasn’t much for her to get out, so she made a shit-ton of that awful dry -heaving sound. “That’s hot.” I held my breath as I walked to the sink, wetting a rag for her to use when she was done, and trying not to gag at the sounds.
“Shut up.” She used the towel and wiped her mouth. Her voice was rough from sleep and the acidic bile when she spoke again, “What happened?”
“You passed out in the middle of screaming at me.” So I carried you all the way home, inhaling all the orange scent out of your hair. Then I watched you sleep, partly because I didn’t want you to choke on your own vomit and partly because you looked beautiful. “I live only a couple blocks away. It was closer than dumping you at your sorority house.”
“You got a dog.” She reached out and scratched Ollie’s ear.
I shook my head when my rescue mutt’s tail started to thump the mattress in happiness. She loved getting her ears scratched. “Yeah well, some crazy chick I hooked up with once told me a house wasn’t a home without a dog.”
“She’s pretty. She looks a lot like a dog my cousin Landry had when I was little.” She moved her attention to the other ear and Ollie’s tail kept on thumping. “Crash. His name was Crash.”
“Her name is Ollie. It’s short for Olivia.” I shrugged. “I didn’t think Livi fit her.”
“Ollie.” The giant dog licked Evie’s hand, almost as if she was saying nice to meet you. “I love it.”
“Thanks.” I’d like to say that getting Ollie was all my idea, that I’d woken up two weeks after my night with Evie and decided to get a dog on a random whim. But that wasn’t the case. I couldn’t get Evie out of my head. Our night together played on a loop in my brain. Over and over, every time I closed my eyes. The way her body felt underneath mine, the words she spoked. I reread her note on the back of my sketch about a dozen times. Until finally I’d taken her advice.
I got Ollie to see if I could exorcise the long-legged, dark-haired beauty from my mind. And in part, it’d worked, because the tiny seven-week-old puppy needed all my attention.
I watched as Evie closed her eyes tight, like she was fighting back tears. “Why am I here, Nicky?”
The way she said my name, soft and letting a little piece of her drawl come through, hit me right in the chest. The bite in her tone was gone, and she sounded more like the girl I remembered. And it was only because she’d shown me a brief glimpse of the real Evie that I answered her honestly. “I don’t know, little bird.”
When I leaned down to put my hand on her forehead she took a deep, contented breath. “My shit life is not your fault. I shouldn’t have yelled at you, and I’m sorry.”
I moved my palm to her cheek, my heart growing soft at the sight of her small apologetic smile. “Yeah, well, I’m tough. I can take it.”
“You shouldn’t have to.” Her eyes were still closed and her voice was getting quiet. I could see her start to slowly fade back out. “I should go.”
She should go; there was no doubt about that. My life would be a hell of a lot simpler if she did. “Just sleep, little bird.” She wrinkled her nose at my continued use of her new nickname, but she didn’t protest. Within another few seconds she was out, her breathing steady and her face relaxed. I patted the mattress. “Come on, Ollie.” I stayed beside Evie until Ollie curled up against her once again. “I’ve got to make a phone call, you watch her.” I stood and pointed at my dog. “But don’t let her puke on the bed.”
I wasn’t crazy. I knew that Ollie wouldn’t answer me back, but I also knew that she understood every word I said.
I went into the kitchen and pulled out my cell. It was nearly six in the morning, but I knew my uncle would answer.
“Now what in the world are you doing up so early?”
I smiled at the sound of his scratchy voice. He’d basically had to drag my ass out of bed every morning for work when I’d been apprenticing with him. “That’s why I’m calling you actually.”
“Everything okay, son?”
I was closer to Waylon than I was my own father—hell, I barely remembered my dad, so it always warmed me a little when my uncle called me son. “Not even slightly, old man.”
“What’s going on?”
“I’ve got Evie James in my bed.” I looked across the apartment, making sure she wasn’t standing in the doorway eavesdropping.
“Well now, Nicky, I’m glad you want to share all your accomplishments with me. But, uh, how am I supposed to look her father in the face the next time he comes in here now that I know that you’ve fu—”
“No, no, no. Wait.” I mean, I had fucked her. Which was no doubt what he had been about to say. But he didn’t need to know that, and her father sure as hell didn’t need to know that. “I met Evie a few years back when she came into the shop. We were, uh, friends I guess.”
“Still sounds a lot like banging to me, son.”
He wasn’t wrong. “When she came back in today, it was the first time I’ve seen her in almost two years. She’s strung out, man. Bad.” I sat down at my small kitchen table and put my head in my hand. “Pills, booze, some coke. She’s rail thin and she’d turned into a real brat.”
“Damn, I’m sorry to hear that.” I could picture him shaking his head, his eyes sad. “Why she with you?”
Because I’m a glutton for punishment. Because I have fucking white-knight syndrome. Take your pick I fucking guess. “She pretty much collapsed right in front of me at the shop so I carried her back here. I didn’t want to take her to the hospital because I didn’t want this whole thing to turn into a media shit storm.”
Or at least all of that was what I’d been telling myself to justify my actions for the past twenty-four hours.
“That was nice of you. Stupid. But nice.” He sighed on the other end of the line. “She okay?”
“Yeah. Just came down real hard from what I can tell.” I glanced back to the bedroom door. “Look, I don’t want you to run and tell her dad or anything. But I wanted to give you heads up because I think I’m gonna close the shop for the weekend to try to help her out.” Why was I taking money out of my own pocket to help Evie James? No goddamn clue.
My need to help Evie wasn’t easily explained. I’d felt a connection, a pull toward her the first time we’d met. Spending the night together, taking her virginity, had only strengthened it. And then the second I’d realized she was in trouble, I couldn’t stop myself. I had to be there for her. I had to try to save her.
“You’re a good man, you know that?”
“Yeah well, I had a good example.” My Uncle Waylon was the best. He’d give strangers the shirt off his back and homeless the food off his table.
He chuckled, never one to bask in compliments. “She’ll need water, rest, probably something for the headaches she’s gonna get. Jell-O, chicken broth…things that are easy on her stomach. If it gets too rough, give me a call.”
“I will. Thanks, old man.” I hung up.
Uncle Waylon was a father figure to me, and he had been for basically my whole life. My parents split up when I was a toddler, but from the stories I’ve heard, both my mom and I were better off without my dad. He was hard, with a mean streak a mile wide. He hit my mom, and she put up with it. But the instant he raised a hand to me? We were gone. My uncle, my mom’s twin brother, took us in. We lived next door to him and he raised me as a son. Which probably had something to do with the fact that the poor man had three daughters.
I collapsed on the couch, tossing my cell on the coffee table. What was I supposed to do now? What was I going to do when she woke up? Turning her away at this point would be the same thing as placing pills in her hand. She was going to feel like death when she finally woke, and the first thing she’d reach for was an upper.
I closed my eyes, exhaustion finally taking me under. I’d been awake for almost twenty-four hours now. And if I let her stay, if I made her stay, the rest of my weekend was going to be even more draining.