Читать книгу Anything to Have You - Paige Harbison - Страница 13

CHAPTER FOUR

I WOKE UP the next morning with an awful throbbing headache, a sense that I was in a dream and a couple of seriously questionable flashbacks. I lay in the dark room for about five minutes, my hands clasped over my eyes and forehead, trying to make the spinning and thudding stop. When I finally sat up, I almost threw up, then almost screamed. On the opposite side of the bed, luckily as far as possible from me, was Aiden.

My heart plunged and I became hot and cold all at once. The only light was the gray glow from the other side of the blinds in the tiny basement window. I got out of bed and realized I was wearing a sweatshirt I knew to be Aiden’s, my pair of hot-pink cheeky underwear and nothing else. Socks, though, weirdly. I guess even when completely hammered, I don’t like to sleep with icy toes.

I pulled on my jeans. I winced as I pulled them up all the way.

Whoa.

I was sore, in the region that Brooke had started demurely referring to as “Brazil” after reading Bergdorf Blondes by Plum Sykes when she was fourteen. I had only felt this particular Brazilian soreness once in my life.

Last time I had gone to a party.

Last time I had done shots.

Last time I had had sex.

Holy. Cow.

I looked at the bed, where Aiden was sleeping on his stomach, shirtless.

No. There was absolutely no possible way. Right? No way. No, no, no.

How could I not remember? I had never blacked out before. Even the night with Reed, I had known what I was doing. It was stupid, but I had known. Was blacking out really that literal? Did you really completely forget things that happened? Even enormous, life-changing, multiple-friendship-ruining events?

Could alcohol really change your personality so much? I would never do that to Brooke.

I tore off the sweatshirt, turned my bare back to Aiden and pulled a tank top from my bag. I left the room quietly and went upstairs to the kitchen. Everyone was still asleep. But Brooke wasn’t on the couch with Alexa anymore. Shit.

What if she had come downstairs, seen us in the same room together, or worse, seen something more NC-17 and left? I hadn’t checked my phone to see if there was some kind of furious “our friendship is over” text.

I went to the fridge and got some water, and then riffled through the cabinets until I found headache medicine. I then sat on a stool at the counter and tried to piece together the night before.

Brooke and Aiden and had gotten into a fight. The girls were all being stupidly supportive of her. I’d gone downstairs. Played a drinking game. Then...I remembered Aiden and me on the couch. He’d asked me if I had been in a hot tub in the snow. I’d run into Eric in the kitchen.

There was a gap then, and I remembered being in my bra and underwear—really, me?—freezing cold in the snow, and then getting into the tub. Aiden was there, Eric was there and a couple other people I didn’t really know that well, including Reed, which had annoyed me. But then...unless I’m going crazy...I recall him actually being pretty fun. I remembered laughing a lot. Playing Never Have I Ever—a game that makes me basically Glinda the Good Witch. Reed had dared Bethany and her friend Megan to make out, and they had. Hah! Eventually, I remembered, Reed had left, and it had been down to Bethany, Megan, Eric, Aiden and me.

Then the other girls had left, and it was just Eric, Aiden and me. What had we talked about? I remembered feeling flattered by something someone said. I remembered cracking up loudly at something else.

I had an infuriatingly vague memory of talking to Eric alone outside as I pulled a towel closer to my trembling, wet body. He had kissed me.

How Aiden and I had ended up in a room together, I had no recollection.

“Good God, I feel like utter hell.”

Brooke came out of the hallway and into the kitchen in sweatpants and only a bra.

“Brooke! Whose pants are those?”

“Morning, sunshine. I don’t know. I fell asleep over there—” she pointed to the couch “—and at some point relocated. I think these pants might be Alexa’s little brother’s.” She chuckled and massaged her temples.

She clearly had not gone downstairs and seen anything she could misinterpret.

“Nice,” I said.

“I totally blacked out after Aiden’s and my fight.”

Thank. God.

“Uh, so did I.”

“No way!” she trilled, and then covered her mouth to stifle her volume. “So proud of you, Nattie.”

“It’s not like it’s super positive, though....”

She shrugged. “I mean, whatever. It happens.” She suddenly looked devious. “Sooo, I went downstairs after waking up from a little catnap, after you all were in the tub and I saw you outside....”

At first my heart clenched, but then I realized it couldn’t have anything to do with Aiden, or she wouldn’t be treating the news like it was an exciting bit of gossip.

She moved closer and dropped her voice. “You were making out with Eric Hornby.” She mouthed, Oh my fucking God.

A more distinct flash came back. His hand on my jaw, and his lips on mine. He was warm still, from the tub, and the air was icy cold.

“You saw that? Yeah, I really...hardly remember it.”

“Well,” she said, “you two looked pret-ty into it, if you ask me. Which you didn’t, for some reason. Jesus, if you don’t remember it, aren’t you even curious how you two looked together? You looked perfect, by the way, positively adorable. You have exactly that right height difference. I would have thought you would think he was too perfect looking, but honestly, I think he’s right on the cusp of being too pretty.”

The truth was I did find him a little too pretty. Sparkling green eyes with sandy brown lashes, a nose carved from marble and lips that were just big enough without becoming weird and gross. His cheekbones could win People magazine’s Sexiest contest all on their own. But I tended to be more into the Ryan Gosling type than the James Marsden type. Still hot. But less like a Disney Prince.

So...I had been making out with Eric. And had seemed into it.

Of course I hadn’t hooked up with Aiden. It wasn’t exactly a relief, since I didn’t want to have slept with Eric Hornby, either, but I should have known that even my drunk, blacked-out brain wouldn’t allow me to betray my best friend. Or sleep with Aiden, who was also a good friend.

My stomach flipped. Had I had enough sense to use a condom? I wasn’t on birth control or anything. It had always felt like a waste, since I had no boyfriend and no real prospects. Did I even really know how to use a condom? What if we had but had put it on wrong or...inside out or something?

“Where did you sleep even?” she asked, sticking her hand in a box of Apple Jacks.

Plummet. “Downstairs. I don’t even know who else was down there, it was dark. I came up here to find ibuprofen.”

She laughed. “’Atta girl. Where’s Aiden? He didn’t leave, did he?”

I remembered his hand on my knee, and the way he had flirted. I cringed. What had been up with me last night? Why had I ended up in his room? Why was I slutting it up left and right? Next thing, someone was going to say they’d seen me giving Reed a BJ in the bathroom or something.

Ew.

I wanted to curl up in a ball. “I don’t know. Probably not?”

“Well, I’m dying to get out of here and get some Chipotle. You look downstairs, I’ll look in these rooms. I swear to God if I find him in bed with another girl, he is going to wake up to a solid punch in the balls and no girlfriend.”

“I’ll...go look.”

“Thanks, love. I need some Pedialyte or something....”

I went downstairs to where I knew Aiden was, and opened the door to find him awake and sitting on the edge of the bed putting on his shoes.

I flipped on the light and shut the door. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

“How the hell did this happen?” I gestured at the bed.

He shook his head and gave me an I have no idea look.

“I guess...I guess it’s good no one came in,” I said.

“Yeah, it is.” He bit the inside of his cheek, as I knew he usually did when he was nervous. “Are you...good?”

“Me? Yeah, no, I’m fine.”

I wanted to ask if he knew what had happened with Eric, but it seemed weird to talk about it with him for some reason.

“I don’t want it to be awkward or anything,” he said.

“No, me, neither. I just...I mean, if Brooke found out...”

“She would kill us both.”

“I mean, she probably wouldn’t freak too too much. We just slept together. Or, you know, next to each other. It’s not like we hooked up.”

I searched his face for a sign that maybe I was wrong about it being Eric, and that maybe it was actually Aiden.

But his face went blank, and he just nodded. “Right, no big deal.” He went back to putting his shoes on.

“Nattie,” shouted Brooke, clearly not concerned about waking the sleeping people, who were bound to be nursing brutal hangovers the second they were roused.

I reopened the door, thinking it was sketchy to have it shut.

“Yeah, coming!” I tried to whisper-shout.

“Aiden down there?”

I still felt guilty, but I reminded myself I had no reason to. Except that it still didn’t look good that I had slept in the same room as him. And that if anyone had seen us talking on the couch, they could make us both look bad.

“Yeah, he’s down here,” I replied.

“Is he with a girl?”

I swallowed. “Just me.”

“Thank God. Well, tell him to hurry his ass up, I’m starving.” I heard her depart from the top of the stairs.

I looked back to Aiden. “Hurry your ass up, Brooke is starving.”

“So I hear.”

“Hey, um...” I looked into the basement living room. I dropped my voice and moved in a little toward him. “Do you think maybe we should say you slept out there on that little couch?”

He looked where I was pointing. Justin lay passed out on one of the couches, but a love seat was empty.

“Looks like I got a terrible night’s sleep.” His tone had changed. Suddenly he sounded like hardened Aiden. The one I was used to hearing after he and Brooke fought. All curt responses and no joking. Had I made him mad? Was it my fault somehow? Had I creepily and stalkerishly climbed into bed with him?

“Do you...have my sweatshirt?” he asked, standing.

He remembered enough to know that I had worn it. Yeah...I would have to ask him for some clarification on the night’s happenings at a better time.

“Oh, yeah, it’s over here.”

I tossed it to him, quickly gathered my stuff and went upstairs to Brooke.

“Is he coming?”

“Yeah, he’s getting dressed.”

“Dressed? What, was he...naked?”

“No, no.” I laughed nervously. “Putting his shoes on and whatever.”

Reed came out of the hallway, wearing only dark, low-hanging jeans. It looked like he wasn’t even wearing boxers or anything. He rubbed his face and went over to the fridge. He pulled out a beer and popped it open.

I observed his body, which was covered in tattoos. They wrapped around his ribs, disappeared down his pants and laced his collarbone. He was so gross. I would never understand why I’d thought sleeping with him—or even touching him—was a good idea.

“Seriously? A beer right now?” Brooke asked with a sneer.

“Would you prefer to take a shot with me instead?”

She clicked her tongue and then grinned, trying, and succeeding, at being Dangerous, Sexy Brooke. “Maybe.”

He gestured at the counter. “Pour it up.”

Brooke gave a tilt of the head that said, Act like I won’t do it. She then walked over to the counter, poured two shots of whiskey and handed him one.

“No chaser?” he asked.

“Do I look like a pussy to you? Oh, wait, everything does.”

“Oh-ho!”

“Bottoms up, dickwad.”

In unison, they clanged the glasses together, tapped them on the counter and took them. Admittedly, they took them like champs. They set down the glasses, each glaring at the other, waiting for one to waver. Then he laughed and crossed his arms at her.

“Oh, my God, Reed. You are so beyond disgusting,” she said.

It was obvious to me, and probably to anyone else, that she didn’t actually find him disgusting, and that she was in fact pleased at his evident approval of her. What was happening to my best friend? Parties do weird things to people.

He leaned against the counter and looked at her with a smirk. “My disgustingness seems to work for me.”

She glared at him. “I have no idea how you ever get girls.”

“No? Maybe you should ask your bestie over there.”

I was startled at suddenly being involved in the conversation. I wanted to say something nasty back but I lacked the guts to actually do that. Luckily, I had Brooke as my mouthpiece.

“Hey, Reed, why don’t you go fuck yourself?”

He shrugged. “Got too many girls offering to do it for me.”

Megan and Bethany emerged at that moment, both wearing very few clothes and very funny expressions. They said hi and then started giggling by the pantry.

Brooke looked at Reed and cocked her head to the side and mouthed, No fucking way...

He held up three fingers and nodded.

She made a face that communicated all the ew now circulating through the room.

So, last weekend, I was watching Netflix and doing yoga by myself and falling asleep at ten at night. This weekend, I was blacking out, waking up in bed with my best friend’s boyfriend with hazy memories of making out with the school’s most eligible potential prom king, and a threesome had happened in the same house.

Lovely.

Thank God we hadn’t ended up snowed in. I didn’t know that I could have dealt with an entire weekend stuck with all these people plus the mystery of what had happened the night before.

The ride home was awkward as could be. Aiden and Brooke were clearly still in a fight. Brooke sat with crossed legs, staring out the window, saying nothing. Aiden drove without speaking except to say, “Later,” when he dropped me off.

So much for my first night back in the game.

* * *

ONCE HOME, I spent the entire day in and out of panic attacks about what had happened with Eric. I thought about messaging him a couple of times, to clarify what had happened, perhaps find out what had prompted me to even want to do such a thing, and maybe—hopefully—confirm that we had used protection. But even though we apparently had gotten to know each other pretty well, I felt weird trying to talk to him. We had hardly ever spoken in our lives, and we had never said anything of importance. And maybe it was stupid, but I kind of felt like he should try to talk to me first. He hadn’t seemed that drunk. Why had he let me go through with it? He was surely aware that I was hammered, right? Shouldn’t he have done the noble thing and not hooked up with me?

Instead of doing the smart thing and trying to figure out what exactly my body had been up to while my brain was in Blackout Land, I curled up in a ball and cried over soap operas all day. I would have stayed like that probably forever if my dad hadn’t called me downstairs for our weekly tradition of Sunday Diner Dinners.

I managed to haul myself from bed all the way to a red vinyl booth. I felt this weird guilt sitting across from my dad, knowing that I had had sex the night before. I didn’t know why, exactly. Part of me wanted to talk about it, especially since I hadn’t said it out loud at all yet, not even to Brooke. But as close as I was to my dad, this was just too weird.

I set down my patty melt, feeling a little queasy, even though it was as delicious as ever, and surveyed my father. I knew he would be disappointed in me if I told him what had happened at the party. It was the saddest thing in the world to disappoint him.

Maybe it was his blue eyes, which had a shape to them that made him always look soft and kind, and even a little sad. He had aged in the past couple of years, gray starting to fleck his sideburns and stubble, and the lines around his eyes and mouth starting to deepen. He had creases in his cheeks, signs of a lifetime of smiling and laughing. My dad was one of those men who really looked like an older version of the young, attractive guy he had once been. He didn’t look like any regular older guy. He still looked like himself.

As if he knew something was up, and he probably did, he asked, “How did last night go?”

“What?” My face flushed red. “Oh, it was fun. It was fine.”

“Did you have anything to drink?”

“Umm...”

He laughed and shook his head.

“Are you mad?”

“No, I’m not mad. You didn’t drive, and you know better than to get in the car with someone who’s been drinking. I’m not worried about you. You’re a smart girl.” He gestured at me with his fork. “Don’t make a habit of it, or I will get concerned.”

Smart girl. Was I? I didn’t feel like it right now. My dad’s lack of concern about the situation was based on the fact that I had always made smart choices. He knew I had removed myself from my social group when they started getting into that stuff, and that I wasn’t the type of daughter that needed to be worried about. It made my heart hurt a little to imagine his reaction if he knew the truth. If he knew that I had drunk too much liquor, had sex with someone I hardly knew and woken up in bed with a different guy. Not just any guy, either, but my best friend’s boyfriend.

Actually, he was a big fan of Aiden’s, so that probably wouldn’t be the worst part of it.

Marcy, our favorite waitress, came over with our refills. “Here you go, guys. How’s that patty melt?”

“It is possibly the greatest thing I have ever consumed in the history of my life.”

“Marcy, you’ll never guess what little Natalie did last night.”

“Ooh, what?” She tightened her shoulders excitedly, and sat down on the bench next to my dad.

“She went to a party.”

Marcy gave a small squeal, knowing exactly how much of a shock this was. “Well, little miss Natalie. Are we going to have to check you into rehab? Don’t tell me you’re going down the path of Lindsay Lohan.”

I rolled my eyes good-naturedly. “Yeah, yeah, yeah...”

“Did you want any coffee or anything tonight?” Marcy asked my dad. The way she looked at him was so cute that it got me to smile and stop obsessing about last night for a second. It was so obvious she was crushing on him.

“Yeah, sure. And—”

“And one big slice of coconut cream pie. I know, John.”

She gave him a wink and turned to go back to the kitchen.

“Would you ask her out already?”

“Cool your arrows there, Cupid, Valentine’s Day is over.”

I was letting out an exasperated sigh when my phone rang.

Aiden.

My stomach did about nine somersaults. It wasn’t hugely out of the ordinary for him to give me a call. Usually he was looking for Brooke, or asking a question about school. But I had a feeling this was about yesterday.

“I’ll...be right back.” I scurried outside and answered. “Hello?”

“Hey, Nattie.”

“Hey. Uh, what’s up?”

“Are you at the diner with your dad?”

I gave a small laugh at the predictability of my routine and Aiden’s awareness of it. “Yeah, why?”

He hesitated. “Do you mind if I stop by for a sec?”

“Um, no, that’s fine.”

That was out of the ordinary.

“Okay, I’ll be there in, like, five minutes.”