Page 10 of Soul Mates: Hercules Valentine and I

“Is everything okay in here?” a valet asks.

I’m too embarrassed to look at him, but I can see in my peripheral vision that his upper body is leaning across the doorjamb.

“Everything’s fine,” Hercules says. “Oh, wait. Could you get us some napkins?”

“Yeah, be right back.”

Clutching my stomach, I groan. It’s all so very humiliating.

“Feel better?” Hercules asks.

Not really.Hand over my mouth, I slowly stand erect.

The door opens. “Here you go, sir,” the valet says.

Hercules rushes over to get the wad of napkins. I avoid looking both of them in the eyes.

“Take these,” Hercules says.

I focus on the white napkins as I take them from him, wipe my mouth, and throw them into the trash.

Finally, I take a deep breath in through my nose, let the air out slowly, and face him. His smile is warm, sympathetic. Mine is faint, and given how mortified I am, I’m shocked it showed up at all.

“My stomach isn’t nauseous anymore,” I say.

“Paisley, you should still get yourself checked out.”

I'm mesmerized by the movement of his lips. I love the ease with which my name rolled off his tongue. I want to hear him say it again, but I also realize he’s urging me to do the impossible.

A slight of wave of dizziness hits me, but I pretend I’m not experiencing it as I stand firm and cross my arms. “I didn’t drink all of whatever O’Brien gave me, because it tasted awful. I sipped it slowly, trying to convince him I liked it more than I did.”

Revealing that part embarrasses me again. I don’t want Hercules to think I like O’Brien more than I do or that I’m willing to do anything to win a boy’s approval. I’m so not that girl.

The skin puckers between his eyes as his frown grows more intense. “I can’t force you to do what you don’t want to do. But aren’t you angry that he did it? Because I am.” He glares over at the elevator doors as if O’Brien is standing there, waiting to be pounced on.

How do I explain what I feel to a boy who barely said two words to me all year long? “You just don’t understand,” I whisper.

“Then help me understand.” His tone is sharp, insistent.

A lump forms in my stomach as a picture of my parents fills my mind. “Because I did everything wrong.” I massage my temples, desperately trying not to see their faces. “Heartly and Xander, they just won’t get it.”

I try to see past his eyes and into his mind, wondering if he comprehends what I mean. I’m a good girl, my parents’ bright and dependable daughter. I earn prestigious scholarships and win prominent programming competitions. My security software is what put GIT over the top. I think before I do anything, and then I think harder. I don’t let myself be drugged at a high school party. My parents’ daughter is smarter than that.

My gaze turns probing as I try to transport my thoughts telepathically to Hercules. He’s a Valentine, so surely, he gets the emotional consequence of letting down our parents. Finally, Hercules breaks eye contact and searches out the glass and into the busy parking garage. His grimace makes me feel like he’s disappointed in me, and I hang my head.

“Did you leave anything upstairs?” he asks.

Funny, I hadn’t checked. I slap my jacket pockets, feeling for my cellphone and wallet. They’re there.

“I have everything.”

“All right, then, at least let me walk you home.”

A knot sits in my stomach. I’m not surprised that he knows where I live. Everybody knows where the Grove House is. It’s a relic of the very olden days that my father refuses to modernize, which makes no sense at all because our lake house was very contemporary.

However, suddenly, I’m petrified, wondering what we will say to each other. And that kiss… what about that? Should I mention it? Will he mention it? Maybe it never really happened.

“Are you sure? I mean, I can make it home. I don’t live—”