Page 60 of Hale Yes (Highway to Hale #1)
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
My sister’s big fat disastrous wedding
Nicolette
I awaken in a strange bed and have a moment of panic, my body jackknifing to a sitting position as my head swings from side to side. Then I remember falling asleep in Helix’s hotel room. Damn wine.
Patting the covers beside me, I find no Helix, and the bed doesn’t look disturbed at all on that side.
He obviously meant it when he said he was respecting boundaries.
Then I look over and see my dress draped across a chair, and my eyes jerk down to find I’m wearing one of Helix’s huge T-shirts. Huh. So much for boundaries.
I can’t bring myself to be mad about it though because the shirt is baggy and comfortable, and he’s seen it all before anyway.
Sliding from the bed, I tiptoe on bare feet into the hallway of the suite and find another bedroom with the door slightly ajar.
I push it all the way open and see a large form sleeping on a much smaller bed than the one I woke up in.
Leaning against the door frame, I watch him.
Helix is on his back, one arm thrown over his head and one leg cocked out to the side.
His big frame takes up the entire bed, and the covers are pulled down to his waist, giving me a hint of the gray band of his boxer briefs and a whole lotta damn muscles.
This man is devastatingly hot when he sleeps.
He makes a soft grunt and slides his hand down over his chest and abs before resting on a noticeable bulge beneath the covers. Then he squeezes it and moans.
“Thinking about corn dogs?” I ask, and his eyes pop open to find me as a sleepy smile creeps across his lips.
“I think the real question is, have you been thinking about corn dogs?”
Okay, he’s even hotter when he’s awake and flirty.
“Not really,” I lie, and he scoots up, leaning against the headboard. My eyes find the scar on his shoulder, but I quickly pull them away and up to his messy hair.
“Come sit with me, queenie.”
This is a dangerous proposition, but I do it anyway, resting my butt on the edge of the bed and tugging his shirt down over my thighs. His eyes follow the movement.
“For the record,” he says, “I put my shirt on you and then slid your dress down over your legs, so I didn’t see you undressed. I’m still amazed by how hard you sleep when the wine hits.”
“Thank you for that,” I tell him quietly because that was pretty damn respectful of him.
“Boundaries,” he says. “You set them, and I’ll follow them. Whatever you need.” I nod, and he holds his hand out, palm up, an invitation I accept. “Would you like to get some breakfast with me?”
I hesitate before agreeing. “Sure. Just let me go get changed.”
“Do you want me to walk you to your room?” The grin he gives me is pure cheekiness. “Or I could help you shower.”
“That’s really nice of you,” I say drolly, “but I believe I can manage.”
“Like I said, I’m here for whatever you need.
” He pulls the covers back and slides from the bed, giving me an excellent view of his round ass when he stands and stretches.
“I’ll get you some shorts to wear so you don’t have to put your dress back on.
” Then he strides from the room, my eyes following him the entire way.
When he returns, my gaze is still in the same spot, and his penis enters the room first. I hear him chuckle because I am obviously staring at his, uh, corn dog.
“Shut up,” I whine, dragging my reluctant eyes away. “I can’t not look when it’s sticking out there like that.”
“You won’t hear me complaining. I’m here for your viewing pleasure.”
I stand and snatch the shorts from him before stomping from the bedroom. “I’ll be back in ten. Have some damn clothes on.”
“You’ll need a key to get back up here. I put one on your purse beside the door,” he calls to my retreating back, and I can hear the amusement in his voice.
Stepping into the shorts, I head straight for the exit, snagging my purse and the key card as I do.
As soon as I enter the elevator, I realize I’m barefoot because I left my shoes in Helix’s room, as well as my dress.
The man had me so damned flustered with his sexy ass and rumpled hair and big dick.
I press the button for floor six, but the elevator makes a stop on ten. Angelica’s friend, Annette, enters with a bucket of ice, looking me up and down with a raised brow. “Good night?”
“Mmhmm,” I say noncommittally before remembering Helix is supposed to be my boyfriend, and I’m obviously doing the barefoot walk of shame from his room. “Helix surprised me, and I already had a room. All my clothes are in there.”
“He seems nice,” Annette says before fanning herself. “And he totally gives off some serious BDE.”
“With good reason,” I assure her, staring up at the numbers as the cart descends.
“I had to go get ice for your sister. She’s on the warpath this morning.”
“Welp, good luck with that,” I shoot back, stepping off the elevator as soon as the doors open.
Annette follows and then groans when we both hear Angelica shrieking at a hotel worker. “This is unacceptable. Do you not realize I am the bride? You should be bending over backward for me.”
Annette jogs to keep up with me as we grow closer to the screaming. Luckily, my bridezilla sister’s room is at the very end of the hallway, so I don’t have to pass it to get to mine.
“Please don’t make me go back in there,” Annette hisses, and I give her the most apathetic look I can muster.
“You’re the one who’s chosen to be her friend all these years,” I say, opening my door and stepping inside. The click of the door behind me is so, so satisfying. Those who tolerate bullying are just as guilty as the ones who bully, and I have no sympathy for Annette.
After rinsing off in the shower and dressing, I walk back out of my room to hear the bridezilla still screaming. “This room is shitty. It’s just a regular room. Why am I not in the penthouse?”
“Because you didn’t pay for the penthouse, Ms. Bell,” the hotel worker replies.
“My father will pay. Get it for me.” I swear, her audacity is completely over the top.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but there’s already a guest in the penthouse.”
She lets out a shriek of frustration, and I laugh as I walk down the hallway, her rant fading away as she insists they kick out the other guest because she’s “the bride, goddammit.”
Breakfast was nice this morning. Helix and I ate and talked, not about anything significant, and it felt so natural and normal. My heart is still guarded though.
The story he told me last night was heartbreaking, and I can’t say it didn’t soften my feelings toward him just a bit. I believed him when he said he wasn’t making excuses for his behavior, and I honestly think he just wanted me to understand him on a deeper level.
We all have past experiences that color the way we view or respond to things, and that’s fair.
Having trust issues is completely understandable in his case.
Hell, I’ve had the same problem because I grew up feeling like I had no one I could fully trust. When the people who are supposed to be your baseline means of support constantly let you down, you’re left wary of putting your faith in anyone. So I can relate to him on that point.
The problem is that I did put my faith in Helix, and he let me down by suspecting me of horrible things. Was what he did unforgivable? I’m honestly not sure, but I’m leaning toward no. I’m not telling him that though because I want to see what this wooing is all about.
Starting now.
We’re at Rory and Angelica’s reception, and I just escaped an arduous conversation with my long-winded Aunt Bibi about her bladder issues. I see Helix exiting the hallway leading to the restrooms and move to intercept him.
“Come on,” I say, taking his hand and leading him toward the light-up dance floor. I’m fully aware Helix Hale doesn’t dance. He’s told me that on numerous occasions, so this is a bit of a test.
“Where are we going?” he asks nervously.
“I love this song and want to dance,” I say, glancing back to see his face pinkening with what I’m sure is panic.
“W-with me?”
I stop, swivel on my heel, and plop a hand on my hip, lifting one eyebrow. “Unless there’s someone else here you’d like to see me dance with.”
With a frown and a grumbled, “Fine, come on,” he leads me to the far corner of the floor, positioning us in a glowing blue square. “Don’t blame me if your toes suffer.”
Hiding my smile, I look up at him. “Is it really such a hardship to hold me close to you?”
In answer, Helix hauls my body against his and wraps his arms around my waist as the band begins playing “Just the Way You Are” by Bruno Mars. I loop my arms around his neck and rest my cheek against the lapel of his jet-black suit, letting the beautiful melody guide our sway.
He tilts his head down until his nose is buried in the top of my hair, and then he kisses me there.
“I wouldn’t do this for anyone else,” he informs me, keeping one hand on the small of my back, left bare by the deep V of my magenta dress.
The other slides up my spine until he’s cupping the side of my head, his thumb stroking slowly against my cheek.
I feel completely possessed by him, and I close my eyes as the sweet lyrics play. We don’t move our feet at all, but I don’t care. Being held like this heals a part of me.
As soon as the song ends, I go up on my tiptoes and reward him with a soft kiss to his lips. “Thank you.”
His handsome face breaks into a smile. “Completely worth it for that kiss. What do I have to do to get a little tongue action next time?”
“The Cha Cha,” I challenge flatly, and he shudders, making me laugh. “Let’s go sit. I think I’ve tortured you enough for one night.”
Helix grabs us a couple drinks, and we find an empty table in a quiet corner. “What was your sister yelling at Rory about earlier?” he asks.