Page 47 of A Deal with the Devil

And before I can argue, I am airborne, scooped up in his arms like a bride being carried over the threshold or—based on the difference in our respective sizes—a child being carried up to bed by her father.

I know I need to argue, but honestly, it feels so good not to stand up. Hayes’s shirt is crisp beneath my cheek. I time my breaths with the hard beat of his heart.

“Put me down,” I whisper. “S’embarrassing.”

“Yes, I know,” he says. “And you’re absolutely fine and just need to sit. I’d like to put you over my knee right now.”

You’d always like that, I try to say, but the words are slurred.

“You’re so sick you can’t even speak and you’re still trying to one-up me,” he says with a soft laugh.

I am too sleepy now to reply, but I think maybe I smile a little. I breathe him in. He smells like the ocean and sunlight. I guess not all smells make me gag. The smell of him makes me feel hopeful, as if everything is going to be alright.

* * *

At some point, I wake to discover myself in an unfamiliar room. It’s dark out, and Hayes is there beside me, stripped down to his pants and undershirt.

My stomach lurches. “Bathroom,” I beg, rolling out of bed on unsteady legs. I run toward what I pray is a bathroom and not a closet, vaguely realizing I’m only in my bra and panties as I collapse on the tile floor. The contents of my stomach fly out of my mouth, half in the toilet and half out, and Hayes grabs my hair but it’s too late by then. I’ve got it everywhere, and I don’t even care. I collapse on the deliciously cool tile floor. I think I’d like to just stay here.

“Come on, Tali,” he says softly, trying to pull me up, “let’s get you to bed.”

I shake my head. “Go away,” I beg. “I don’t want you to see me like this.”

“Worried I’ll respect you less?” he asks, but there’s a sweetness to his voice that isn’t normally there. “And I’ve already seen you like this. You’ve been sick repeatedly.”

“I need to shower,” I whisper. “Please.”

He pauses. “Fine,” he says with a sigh. “I’ll wait outside. Please don’t take off any more clothes until the door shuts.”

Which would indicate I’m the one who removed my dress earlier. God.

I turn on the water and somehow manage to remove my bra and panties before I crawl into the tub. Even those small actions deplete the little energy I had, however, so I just sit here with my knees tucked to my chest, letting the water hit me. As exhausted as I am, I still have the energy to be humiliated by all of this. He had to carry me out of the party. He’s pretty much seen me naked, and God only knows what I said to him...plus he’s now watched me vomit.

I groan against my knees, wishing I could vanish. I’m not sure how I’ll face him when I get out.

I manage to wash my hair from a seated position and pull myself to standing. With the towel wrapped around me, I open the door but have to lean against the frame as I begin to shake.

“Where’s my dress?” I whisper.

He frowns and then pulls off his undershirt. “Here,” he says, handing it to me. Even in my dazed, sickened state, I am capable of appreciating the absolute work of art he is shirtless. Not an ounce of fat and far more muscular than I’d have guessed.

The shirt falls to mid-thigh and is so loose around the arms that he’d see some side-boob if he wasn’t already looking away. I suppose he’s seen all the semi-nude Tali he’ll ever need to see after the past day. I stagger toward the mattress and collapse in bed on my side, wrestling with the covers but too weak to win the fight. He pulls them from me and lifts them to my chin.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper.

I open one eye just enough to see my favorite of his smiles. The sweetest one, that dimple of his blinking into existence. “For what?”

“Ruining your party, forcing you to take care of me, undressing in front of you, vomiting...”

“You ruined nothing, and perhaps you’re unaware of this, but I’m actually a doctor. And a human being who gets sick occasionally as well,” he says, resting a hand against my forehead. “You’re still running a fever, but your teeth are chattering. I’m going to get some meds and blankets.”

“Don’t stay here,” I say. “You must have patients, and I’m fine now.”

“Yes, I know. Just like you were fine earlier. You don’t have to do everything alone, you know.”

The words leave an ache in my chest as he leaves. I curl into a ball, pulling the blankets tighter, and the neck of his T-shirt rides up to my nose. I get a whiff of sandalwood, ocean, Hayes. My favorite smells in the entire world. As I doze off, I leave his shirt right there so I can keep breathing him in.

* * *