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

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.

“My ex? Negative five, since I’m feeling mellow right now,” I said instantly.

He nodded. “Exactly. The last girl I hooked up with threw a drink at another chick for smiling at me, and the one before that started nagging me about my drinking after we’d hooked up one time. Sex turns women into nagging psychos, and it turns men into straight-up ass**les. Now, how much do you like me?”

I wrinkled my nose at him. “Right this second? Well, this little speech is kind of annoying but I do kind of like you most of the time. I’ll give you a solid five.”

He just grinned, not at all offended. I don’t think he would have known what to do with me if I wasn’t giving him shit. “Well, I give you a ten, which averages our friendship out to a solid seven, making you one of my favorite people of all time. I’d like to maintain our average, so I say we make a list.”

He had actually gotten a pen and paper out, and I made sure he saw me roll my eyes.

His grin just widened. “That’s what I love most about you. I never have to wonder what you’re thinking. It’s all right there on your lovely face.”

My scowl just deepened as I saw what he was writing.

‘THE FRIENDS DON’T LIST’ –

Because I like you too much to sleep with you

I sighed loudly. “What is the point of this? We don’t need to write it down.”

He straightened, giving me a look that made things low in my body clench in the most delicious way. His gaze was borderline obscene as he eyed me, top to bottom.