True Colors (The Masks #1)(8)

The music felt a million times louder than when I’d left. I rubbed my temples, feeling the onset of a monster headache. It was coming on super-fast, too. Trying to ignore the pain, I wiggled and pushed my way through the crowd. Stella saw me coming and waved. I finally busted my way through to them. Chase caught me against him and placed a sloppy kiss on my lips. He tasted like more than beer and the lax way his limbs were moving made me wonder how much he’d downed while I was gone.

His hungry tongue worked over my neck, something I’d usually enjoy, but my headache was growing worse by the second. My eyes were killing me, my temples were pounding, and nausea was setting in fast. I had to pull away.

“I’m sorry,” I yelled, stumbling away from him. “I gotta go.”

I grabbed my head and nearly fell over as I made my way out for the third time that night. The headache was near blinding by the time I reached the door.

“Caitlyn!” I ignored Stella’s pissed off call and threw myself at the exit.

The bouncer had to catch me as I tripped out onto the curb.

“You alright, Miss?”

“She’s fine.” Stella snatched my arm and dragged me away from the burly guy. “What is up with you tonight?” She swung me around to face her.

“I can’t.” I swallowed back the bile. “I feel sick.”

“You haven’t even been drinking. What the hell did you do in the bathroom?”

“Nothing,” I mumbled. “It’s just a migraine.”

Stella’s frown softened a little and she rubbed my back as I braced my hands on my knees. “Are you still nervous about doing it with Chase? Because I asked him, and he said he's taking you to a motel, so you're not just doing it in the back of his car or anything. It’ll be fine.”

“It’s not about Chase.” Who I was very aware had not followed me out to check whether I was okay. “I just need to get home.”

“But Caity,” Stella whined. “I’m not ready to go yet.”

I knew I should have been pissed at my friend’s attitude. I was seriously in pain here, but I didn’t have the energy to feel anything more than a desperate need to get home. “Just call me a cab. Please, Stella.”

With a reluctant huff she yanked out her phone and dialed a taxi for me. I had no idea how I was supposed to ask her for money, but thankfully my best friend redeemed herself by staying with me until the taxi showed up and giving the guy my address and a fifty-dollar note.

I leaned against the doorframe muttering a thank you and asking her to say sorry to Chase. She promised to do it. I noticed her disappointment at being abandoned by me and made a mental note to apologize again in the morning. Squeezing my eyes shut, I willed the morning to come, anything to stop this excruciating headache.





Chapter 4




The morning brought minimal relief. I woke after a night of weird dreams. My top sheet was tangled around my limbs, a total giveaway to my restlessness. Kicking it off me, I flicked it out and let the cotton float back over me. I squeezed my eyes shut with a groan.

Mom was already in bed when I had stumbled through the door last night. I downed two Tylenol and headed straight for bed, stripping off my clothes as I went. I scrambled beneath my covers in my panties and tank top, begging sleep to take me.

I so didn’t want to get up. I’d never been hung over before, but I was guessing this is what it felt like. I didn't get it. I hadn't drunken a drop. Maybe Chase's alcohol infused kisses got me drunk by osmosis or something.

I placed my hand on my forehead, expecting a temperature, but I was fine. Just aching temples and burning eyes. I’d had migraines in the past - only a couple, but none that had set in this quickly. I couldn’t believe how fast it took me down the night before either. It was weird.

Rolling to my side, I pulled the covers over my shoulders, more than grateful that I could spend the day in bed. I didn’t want to face anyone or anything this morning.

My door burst open.

“You’re still in bed? It’s eleven o’clock already. I got home five hours after you and I’m up!”

I squeezed my eyes shut, cringing at Stella’s staccato voice. Her words felt like bullets raining into my ears.

“Stella,” I mumbled. “I told you, I’m sick.”

“Oh come on.” She nudged my shoulder. “It’s just a headache. Take some painkillers. Don’t waste the day in bed. The sun is shining and lawns are about to be mown.”

I heard her move to the window and shuffle stuff around on my desk. She was no doubt perching her perfect behind on it so she could get the optimum view.

“Eeeeppp! There he is. Come on, Eric, take off your shirt, baby.”

I swallowed, fighting the urge to get up and join her. But I couldn't. My limbs felt like Jello and there was no way my chicken neck could support my concrete head.

The lawn mower started up, another punishing blow to my ears. I grabbed my pillow and shoved it over my head. Stella’s swooning was mercifully muffled. I waited it out, trying not to get pissed. I just wanted Stella to leave me alone! I wanted peace. I wanted quiet.

Finally the lawn mower cut off. With a disappointed tut, Stella got off my desk and plonked herself beside me. Her hand rubbed my shoulder.

“Sorry you’re feeling sick. You missed out on a good night. I didn’t get home from the club until one.”