Page 23
I opened my eyes the next morning and felt decent. I retained memories of last night's events but sensed that something important was absent from my recollection. After tossing my blanket aside I began looking for my phone throughout the room.
I looked at my watch and realized it was already late. When I checked my messages, I noticed Kylie had sent me a text message.
Hoe #1: Your level of intoxication last night was high so we chose not to disturb you. There's
Advil in the kitchen cabinet. We've already reached the beach and you're welcome to join when you feel ready.
That was sent almost two hours ago. The fuzziness in my head was the only thing bothering me while I felt completely fine. I consumed some Advil to prevent any possible issues before I changed clothes to head to the beach.
When I reached the beach, I started to sweat and experienced some lightheadedness. My level of exhaustion had become dangerously high.
My belongings hit the ground, and I found a shaded place to rest until I regained my strength. I responded to everyone's concern about my wellbeing by participating actively with them because I felt okay.
I went to sit near the water, but it failed to help me feel better. Although I understand heat and hangovers are incompatible, I decided to test this theory.
Bad. Bad idea.
Though I felt terrible I made the decision to take advantage of the day. We were vacationing while tomorrow would mark our final day in this location. I felt so awful that I couldn't bring myself to enter the water.
I headed back up from the water while passing by the group of guys who were playing football. Elijah left his spot without me noticing until he approached me.
"Hey Em, how are you doing?" He asks me how I am while placing an arm over my shoulder.
Even though I feel terrible I tell him I'm okay.
"Well, you're the first one to know-"
I understand that heat and Hazelgovers create a terrible combination. I had no intention of remaining inside the house. While we walked back to our gear, I put forth my argument.
Jaxon had a stroke of luck finding you last night. I thought you disappeared for just a moment. While I sit in the shade he makes a joke about the situation.
Wait. Jaxon brought me back.
I believed you brought me back to the house. I genuinely question it.
"Nope." He moves his head from side to side while he reaches into the cooler to take out water. "He carried you back, actually, my correction."
I grab the water he tosses to me and remain silent. Did he carry me back? I thought I was on Elijah's back.
Oh no.
I closed my eyes as I rested back into the chair while recalling part of my imagined conversation with Elijah.
He would always come and get me.
An intense wave of heat struck me, and my skin started to sweat profusely. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Why would he tell me that?
I don't know, but he did. I find comfort knowing that he would come and rescue me for some inexplicable reason.
I remained under the shade until Hazel came back from the water and positioned herself on the blanket. "Hazel?"
"Yeah?"
I move toward her while trying to avoid shouting my persistent question. "So... did anything happen last night?" I nudge her with my hand.
She looked at me and smirked.
I squealed and clapped my hands together. "So...?"
There's no need for you to pretend you're surprised because I'm aware you had a conversation with him. She downplayed her happiness.
I acknowledge my actions with a shrug while observing everyone return to their towels.
"But it worked, didn't it? The conversation ended as I bit my lip to hold back more words after mentioning I learned some valuable information. The others approaching brings her to a sitting position. "Tell me."
I laugh. "He gets anxious when you're around," I say softly and get pushed away.
"No, I don't!" The way she rolls her eyes shows me she doesn't believe what I say.
You must understand those words were never spoken by me. I smile and shake my head.
Her expression reveals everything, yet I remain amused and head back to the shade.
The intensity of my hangover increased with every passing hour today. The combination of headaches and stomach pains forced me to leave the beach before everyone else.
A shower might help, it always helps. The shower gave me relief to its Maximum extent, yet I still experienced tiredness and cold when I came downstairs.
As the others returned to the house an hour later and began showering, I remained seated in the kitchen. Kylie informed me that everyone chose not to leave because they understood that I was feeling sick.
She decided to ignore my words and left the room without a response. I stayed behind in the kitchen by myself while the pounding in my head continued unabated. I rested my body on the countertop and closed my eyes while my brain pounded the sides of my temples.
My breathing remained steady while I started to fall asleep.
A warm hand lifted my chin as my head dropped down. Hey sleepyhead, why don't you get down for a nap?
The sound of his soft voice reaches me from above as I open my eyes. As my head draws back from his touch I mutter "I should" through a yawn.
"Are you okay?" he asks. He added "From last night" while his gaze displayed excessive concern for me.
"I am." I nodded. "And uhm, tHazelk you. For carrying me back."
"Don't worry about it."
When I raised my eyes to him his softened gaze met mine. My stomach starts fluttering again without any pain but as if butterflies from a whole sanctuary lived inside.
I reminded him about the promise he made to get me. "Why?"
He falls quiet as he seems to internally question his thoughts and feelings.
"Why not?" he counters. I find myself wondering aloud whether it sounds believable that I would fulfill my promise as he takes a calculated step and positions himself between my legs.
I clear my throat, growing embarrassingly nervous. "I mean, yeah. The constant arguments between us made me think-
Bickering constantly doesn't bother me at all. His hands grip my face while he fights me and I experience emotions I shouldn't feel. The only person I argue with is you. He shares his thoughts while pushing a loose piece of hair behind my ear.
The heat rising in my face was immediately familiar to me. I moved closer to him and pressed my head against his stomach while keeping my face hidden from his view. I felt a shiver when his hand encircled my neck and drew me nearer.
I wrapped my arms around his torso without thinking.
My surprise turned into disappointment when he tensed up because it made me feel as if I had ruined our moment together. This moment stands out so clearly that a blind person could detect it.
I don't know what happened to us. Usually, I can't stand him. He stands as the last person I ever want to encounter. I always wish to avoid his voice as much as possible. I hold the position of Jaxon Rowan Hate Club president, but I find myself gradually losing grip of that role.
Stop it, Emerson. You know this can't happen. It shouldn't, and it won't happen.
The intensity of these emotions signifies that I'm losing the wager. I never accept defeat and not from him. I need to improve my performance without question.
But right now, I can’t care less. Currently I have no energy or interest because I'm exhausted and hungry and there's no time to accomplish anything.
I will stay in this position and hold him until he stops rubbing my back because I'm not planning to move.
Not even an inch.
"Em?" He softly speaks my name while his hands remain motionless. I let go of him and bring my arms back to my sides.
I respond with a hum while I force myself back to reality and adjust to the kitchen's bright lights. I experienced a sensation of awakening from sleep.
"Just don't do something that stupid again. You're smarter than that." His touch disappears completely when he tells me about my mistake before stepping away. The brightness makes it difficult to gaze upward, yet I force myself to do so.
I swear I can detect the faintest hint of pink appearing on his face when I look. His entire day in the sun prevents me from worrying about it.
But he could be
No. He's not. My thoughts of hope turned out to be incorrect.
He exits the kitchen without saying anything as I carefully descend from the counter and make my way back to the living room while dragging my feet.
Sabrina and Neha arrived to check on me after waiting for two hours. I sit curled up like a fetus while two blankets cover me. Nothing has ever made me feel this bad before.
This hangover is awful.
When someone refers to food from the other living room, I immediately find myself standing up. I go over to investigate but I find myself without the desire to eat anything. A delivery came from a local pizzeria, so I took a plain pizza slice to sit on the couch edge.
After staring at it for sixty seconds I took two tiny bites before my stomach forcefully told me not to continue. I put the food back down and closed my eyes when the screen lit up with a film.
A person sits next to me, but I refuse to look at them. The voice reveals the individual's identity to me. My brain tells me to refuse him, yet my body shows acceptance of his presence. My exhausted brain combined with my frail body leaves me feeling helpless.
I have no idea what actions to take or emotions to experience. My brain lacks the strength to instruct me on how to experience emotions.
I lift my blanket over my shoulders and then rest my head on him. I don't give any thought to his response, yet I believe this action is justified.
For four hours he slept on me the other day so now I should at least get something for that.
And it looks like he knows that. He shifts, but he doesn't move me. My body tenses when his hand pushes against the couch before sliding behind my back. His hand reaches my hip before pulling me closer to him. I enjoy his closeness and that I desire it excessively. I know from my body's response that this situation is negative.
Within just seven days I've realized that maintaining physical proximity to him deeply disturbs me. Occasionally I lack control over what harms me. I need to find a way to control this situation.