Bad Things (Tristan & Danika, #1)(34)

The charming, intimidating man continued on, graciously offering us comps, and making sure that we were well-settled, before moving on.

Tristan and I stared at each other with wide eyes after he’d gone. I was the first to start laughing, but Tristan joined in soon after.

I ordered shots, and Tristan gave me a searching glance.

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough? You don’t usually dance on tables…”

I stuck my tongue out at him. “At least I didn’t choke anybody. I can’t believe you didn’t get in trouble for that…”

“I can’t believe it, either.”

“Were you trying to get arrested?” I asked him in my best drunk/lecturing tone.

He shrugged, which was infuriating. “I wasn’t trying to get arrested, but I was willing to. No one gets to treat you like that.”

I didn’t know if I wanted to shake him, or hug him, the sweet bastard.

He reached over, snagging my hand. He linked our fingers, watching my face. “Are you okay? Was that…upsetting?”

That threw me. “I’m fine. I was mostly upset when I thought that you were going to get arrested, you crazy man.”

He smiled. “I’d do it again in a heartbeat, even if they did arrest me. You remember that, boo. I’ve got your back. Always.”

I squeezed his hand, blinking back uncharacteristic tears, touched by his words.





CHAPTER THIRTEEN





I was in rough shape the next morning, to say the least.

I barely made it to the bathroom in time to throw my guts up into the toilet.

I felt my hair being messed with, but I couldn’t summon up the will to turn and see what was going on.

“What the hell are you doing?” I bit out, before another wave of nausea hit me.

“Braiding your hair, boo,” Tristan said, his big hand stroking my back comfortingly.

Even sick as a dog, I thought that was sweet. “I don’t want you to see me like this. I’m disgusting.” I punctuated that statement by further emptying out the contents of my stomach.

“Don’t worry about me. You just let me know what I can do for you. You poor thing.”

“Why don’t you ever get sick?” I whined at him between bouts of throwing up.

“I weigh two twenty-five buck naked, sweetheart. I can handle a lot of alcohol.”

Even nauseous and feeling disgusting, I took a moment to linger on an image of him naked. I wouldn’t be human if I wasn’t at least curious.

“That’s not fair,” I moaned.

“It’s not. Can I get you anything?”

I shook my head. I thought my stomach might finally be empty, but I was afraid to hope for it.

“Why don’t you try to sleep it off for a bit? I’ve got the boys and breakfast covered. Just go lie down.”

I did. I was in no shape to refuse.

When I woke up again, I felt human, if only barely. I showered, and pulled on the first clean clothes I found.

The house was almost eerily quiet when I left my room. The only sign of life in the whole place was coming from the kitchen.

My stomach rumbled in a good way when I smelled what Tristan was cooking.

“I need one of those today,” I told him, pointing at the hangover sandwich in his hand as I took my usual seat on the counter.

He brought it to me with a sympathetic smile. “Fresh coffee is brewing. I’ll fix a cup for you when it’s finished.”

I thanked him, taking a huge bite, closing my eyes and chewing it slowly, enjoying every second of it, before swallowing.

I opened my eyes to find him watching me, his face carefully blank. “Where is everybody?”

“Bev and Jerry took the boys to the mall. It’s Saturday, you know, not that we’ve been keeping track.”

I devoured the sandwich, and then a cup of coffee, followed by two bottles of water. I felt like a different person when I’d finished it all.

“Thank you. You saved my life. I’ve never had a hangover like that before.”

“Let’s hope you never do again, either. How many drinks did you have last night?”

“I have no idea,” I replied honestly. “But don’t get all preachy about it with me. I got bored when you left to hook up with what’s her name. I was just passing the time.”

“Hook up with what’s her name? What are you talking about? I didn’t hook up with anyone. I spent half the night looking for you. Where did you disappear to, by the way?”

I glared at him. “I went and danced with Jared, and when we came back, you’d disappeared.”

His brows drew together and his eyes were stormy as he replied, “I disappeared looking for you.”

I studied his face, looking for a lie, but strange as it was, I believed him, and it scared me how relieved I was that he hadn’t been hooking up. If I was this relieved that he hadn’t, just how hurt would I be when he finally did? I knew it was coming. He’d given me more than fair warning.

“I have an idea,” he said, moving around the kitchen counter, and into the dining room.

He opened up a drawer of the desk that ran along the far wall.

“That sounds ominous,” I said, following him.

“On a scale of one to ten, how much do you like the last guy that you slept with?” Tristan asked me with an arched brow and a crooked smile, flashing those dimples at me. He used those things like a weapon.