Poles Apart
Page 33
“Sasha didn’t hear me, did she?” I whispered, grabbing my toothbrush from the glass on the side and squeezing on some toothpaste.
“Nah, she sleeps through anything, you know that.” He smiled reassuringly. “I’m gonna go make you some coffee so you can sober up.”
I shook my head, spitting out the minty froth and turning the tap on to rinse it. “Don’t bother, I’m sober now anyway. It wasn’t the drink so much, it was the falling off the sofa,” I admitted.
Rory raised one eyebrow. “Oh, I’m so adding that onto my list of things I can do when I’m older!”
I scoffed and dropped my toothbrush back into the glass, wiping my mouth on a towel. “Don’t you dare! This is not an example; this is a rare birthday occurrence you are only allowed to do when you’re nineteen!” I teased, following him out of the room. “Go back to bed. You have school tomorrow. Sorry I woke you up, but thanks for coming to help me.”
He smiled and kissed the top of my head. “No worries. I couldn’t resist seeing my big sister hurl and hug the toilet bowl.” He walked off laughing to himself.
Steeling myself against the embarrassment, I took a deep breath and walked into the kitchen. Carson was sitting at the table, playing with his mobile phone, avidly texting someone.
He jumped up when he saw me, looking both concerned and embarrassed at the same time. “Hey, you okay?”
I nodded, wishing the ground would just open up and swallow me. “Yeah. Are you okay now?” I asked, trying not to burst into a fit of giggles again.
He blew out a big breath and ran his hand through his hair. “I’m so sorry. I have a really shit gag reflex. I was totally useless, sorry.” He winced, shaking his head disapprovingly.
I chewed on my lip and looked at him in awe. He didn’t seem to care that I had just thrown up in the middle of a make-out session, more that he didn’t help me. He really was just too incredible for words. “That was so embarrassing. I’m so sorry I did that.”
He stepped closer to me and stroked my arm, smiling. “It was the Sambuca. You said you shouldn’t have drunk it,” he said, smirking at me slightly.
I shrugged. “Maybe it was the kissing,” I suggested, raising one eyebrow playfully.
He grinned and inched his face closer, rubbing his nose against mine, giving me a little Eskimo kiss like he always did. “I’ve never seen that reaction in you before from my kissing. Moaning, yes. Panting, yes. Sweating, yes. Heck, even swearing, but never throwing up.” He moved one hand to my neck, cupping it gently, his thumb tracing across my cheek. I laughed quietly, not meeting his eyes. Of all the people that could have happened in front of, it had to be him.
“Sorry.”
He kissed my forehead softly. I closed my eyes and savoured the feel of his hot, full lips on my overheated skin. “Don’t be sorry. I guess I should let you get some sleep, though. I’m glad you had a nice birthday, you deserve to,” he whispered.
I smiled and gripped a fistful of his shirt, pressing my whole body to his. Was this the last time I was going to see him? Had I completely and utterly blown whatever small thing we had going on? “Thanks, baby.”
He kissed my forehead again, then he held out a scrap of paper with a phone number on it. “This is my press agent’s phone number. I’ve just texted him and told him about Rodger Harris, so if you get any problems then you call him and he’ll help you. It’s too late to stop a story being printed tonight, but if they harass you or anything then you just call him and he’ll put a stop to it. Any fall back at all from this, then you call him, okay?” he instructed, looking at me sternly.
I smiled gratefully and nodded, reaching out and sticking the number on the fridge, using a magnet to hold it up. “Thanks, Carson.”
“No worries.” He took my hand and walked to the front door, opening it before turning back to me and planting a little kiss on my lips. “I’ll see you next weekend at the club,” he said softly.
My whole body relaxed at his words. He wasn’t running away from me; I hadn’t scared him away just yet. I nodded and couldn’t keep the happy grin off my face. “Okay, baby, see you then. And drive safe,” I instructed.
He winked at me, stepping out the door. “I’m always safe.”
I watched him walk off down the hall, heading down the stairs until he was out of view. I sighed at the irony. Once again, he was walking out of my life and all I could do was watch and wait until he would grace me with his presence again.
I BARELY SLEPT THAT NIGHT; instead, I’d lain awake, staring at the ceiling and worrying what they might print about me in the newspapers. What Rory was going to say, the fall-out on our lives, and his friends teasing him about his stripper sister. I finally fell asleep at around five, only to get up just after six with Sasha.
I sat helplessly in the lounge, having no clue what was going on in the outside world. There was nothing on the news as I flicked through the channels before settling on something Sasha would like. It was times like this I wished we could afford a computer or smart phone or something so I could go on the internet and search to see if there was anything written about me.
When Rory got up just after seven, I made some excuse about wanting to get some milk before he left for school. I left him watching Sasha while I practically ran to the nearest shop, scanning every single page of The Peoples’ Post to see if there was a picture of me and Carson leaving the club, but there was nothing.
“Nah, she sleeps through anything, you know that.” He smiled reassuringly. “I’m gonna go make you some coffee so you can sober up.”
I shook my head, spitting out the minty froth and turning the tap on to rinse it. “Don’t bother, I’m sober now anyway. It wasn’t the drink so much, it was the falling off the sofa,” I admitted.
Rory raised one eyebrow. “Oh, I’m so adding that onto my list of things I can do when I’m older!”
I scoffed and dropped my toothbrush back into the glass, wiping my mouth on a towel. “Don’t you dare! This is not an example; this is a rare birthday occurrence you are only allowed to do when you’re nineteen!” I teased, following him out of the room. “Go back to bed. You have school tomorrow. Sorry I woke you up, but thanks for coming to help me.”
He smiled and kissed the top of my head. “No worries. I couldn’t resist seeing my big sister hurl and hug the toilet bowl.” He walked off laughing to himself.
Steeling myself against the embarrassment, I took a deep breath and walked into the kitchen. Carson was sitting at the table, playing with his mobile phone, avidly texting someone.
He jumped up when he saw me, looking both concerned and embarrassed at the same time. “Hey, you okay?”
I nodded, wishing the ground would just open up and swallow me. “Yeah. Are you okay now?” I asked, trying not to burst into a fit of giggles again.
He blew out a big breath and ran his hand through his hair. “I’m so sorry. I have a really shit gag reflex. I was totally useless, sorry.” He winced, shaking his head disapprovingly.
I chewed on my lip and looked at him in awe. He didn’t seem to care that I had just thrown up in the middle of a make-out session, more that he didn’t help me. He really was just too incredible for words. “That was so embarrassing. I’m so sorry I did that.”
He stepped closer to me and stroked my arm, smiling. “It was the Sambuca. You said you shouldn’t have drunk it,” he said, smirking at me slightly.
I shrugged. “Maybe it was the kissing,” I suggested, raising one eyebrow playfully.
He grinned and inched his face closer, rubbing his nose against mine, giving me a little Eskimo kiss like he always did. “I’ve never seen that reaction in you before from my kissing. Moaning, yes. Panting, yes. Sweating, yes. Heck, even swearing, but never throwing up.” He moved one hand to my neck, cupping it gently, his thumb tracing across my cheek. I laughed quietly, not meeting his eyes. Of all the people that could have happened in front of, it had to be him.
“Sorry.”
He kissed my forehead softly. I closed my eyes and savoured the feel of his hot, full lips on my overheated skin. “Don’t be sorry. I guess I should let you get some sleep, though. I’m glad you had a nice birthday, you deserve to,” he whispered.
I smiled and gripped a fistful of his shirt, pressing my whole body to his. Was this the last time I was going to see him? Had I completely and utterly blown whatever small thing we had going on? “Thanks, baby.”
He kissed my forehead again, then he held out a scrap of paper with a phone number on it. “This is my press agent’s phone number. I’ve just texted him and told him about Rodger Harris, so if you get any problems then you call him and he’ll help you. It’s too late to stop a story being printed tonight, but if they harass you or anything then you just call him and he’ll put a stop to it. Any fall back at all from this, then you call him, okay?” he instructed, looking at me sternly.
I smiled gratefully and nodded, reaching out and sticking the number on the fridge, using a magnet to hold it up. “Thanks, Carson.”
“No worries.” He took my hand and walked to the front door, opening it before turning back to me and planting a little kiss on my lips. “I’ll see you next weekend at the club,” he said softly.
My whole body relaxed at his words. He wasn’t running away from me; I hadn’t scared him away just yet. I nodded and couldn’t keep the happy grin off my face. “Okay, baby, see you then. And drive safe,” I instructed.
He winked at me, stepping out the door. “I’m always safe.”
I watched him walk off down the hall, heading down the stairs until he was out of view. I sighed at the irony. Once again, he was walking out of my life and all I could do was watch and wait until he would grace me with his presence again.
I BARELY SLEPT THAT NIGHT; instead, I’d lain awake, staring at the ceiling and worrying what they might print about me in the newspapers. What Rory was going to say, the fall-out on our lives, and his friends teasing him about his stripper sister. I finally fell asleep at around five, only to get up just after six with Sasha.
I sat helplessly in the lounge, having no clue what was going on in the outside world. There was nothing on the news as I flicked through the channels before settling on something Sasha would like. It was times like this I wished we could afford a computer or smart phone or something so I could go on the internet and search to see if there was anything written about me.
When Rory got up just after seven, I made some excuse about wanting to get some milk before he left for school. I left him watching Sasha while I practically ran to the nearest shop, scanning every single page of The Peoples’ Post to see if there was a picture of me and Carson leaving the club, but there was nothing.
