Page 25 of Wrap Around

"What the hell, Gideon?"

"You," he says, stabbing a finger at me. "This is your fault."

He’s slurring. I scoff, despite my concern. "Oh yeah, how do you figure?"

"You broke me."

"Gideon–"

"You tricked me. Tempted me. It's your fault I'm like this."

Like this?What does that even mean?

I don't get a chance to ask for clarification. Gideon turns several shades of green and lurches. I barely catch him in time, dragging him through the door of the bathroom and holding him steady so most of the vomit lands in the toilet. He crouches over it, hugging the bowl. When he seems steady enough, I try to clean up anything that splashed on the floor.

When he's done, I wet a washcloth with cold water and dab it on his forehead, then the back of his neck. I wipe his mouth and notice his tight, dark blue v-neck t-shirt is a mess. I help him out of it carefully and methodically, refusing to let my eyes linger. My gaze is fixed on the fabric, on the motions of pulling the soft fabric over his head, and not the skin underneath. Not the smooth, tan planes of his chest or the ink that twists over his shoulder and bicep. I don't let myself look at those, either.

For once, he doesn't fight me. Just allows me to lead him towards the bed.

When I have to undo his belt buckle, I aim my gaze at the bicep closest to me. The one with the intricate snake and apple so detailed, I feel I could bite into his skin and it would be as crisp as a McIntosh.

"You're the snake," he whispers.

Looking away, I gently tug his pants down his legs and get him to sit so I can pull them off. He's still wearing his shoes. I'm on my knees in front of him, unlacing his sneakers. He watches me, glassy-eyed.

"Stop tempting me," he slurs.

"I'm just trying to get you comfortable," I say softly, sadly. "Then you can sleep this off."

"Can't sleep."

"I have a feeling you'll manage tonight. Although, you're probably going to feel like shit when you wake up."

"I feel like shit right now," he confesses.

Pulling the blanket and sheets back, I help him lower onto his back.

"Can't sleep in the same room as the snake," he mumbles. "I'm afraid of what I might do."

Tucking the blanket around him, I smooth the damp hair from his forehead. “I won’t let you do anything you’ll regret.”

“—s’too late.”

"I know, baby," I whisper. "I know."

CHAPTER 10

GIDEON

My eyes are dry and I feel like I've swallowed gravel. By the throbbing behind my eyes and the taste in my mouth, I should probably be thankful I didn't choke on my own vomit last night. That's probably only thanks to the pillow wedged under one side of my back.

I don't remember how I got here.Wait…Where is here?

The rapid pace of my heart and the bright sunlight searing my retinas when I open my eyes make my head throb worse, but I'm able to take a breath of relief that I'm in my own hotel room. Thank fuck. Closing my eyes again, I wince as a few flashes of what I can remember play out behind my eyelids. Pounding on the door. I was upset about something… Then Silas... His hands steadying me, voice low and comforting. A cold cloth on my neck.

Him on his knees, looking up at me as he slowly dragged my jeans down my legs.

Oh no…