Wrong For You (Before You Series Book 3)(43)

Finally dropping his hands from Violet’s shoulders, Alec looked down at his shirt, and not wanting to be drenched in vomit for one more minute, he tugged it over his head and tossed it next to Violet’s front steps. “Where are your keys?”

“Huh?” Violet said, swaying back and forth, staring blankly.

“The keys to your house.”

“Oh.” She started fumbling with the pockets of her skirt, but never quite making it inside either one and he realized she was still wearing her clothes from last night. She hadn’t even bothered to change before she ran away this morning. He didn’t like that he made her so uncomfortable she didn’t feel like she could take refuge in her own home. “I thought I put them in my pocket, but I don’t know.” Her hands dropped limply to her sides.

“Let me look.” His hand dipped into one pocket and then the other. “Here they are.” He held them up for her to see.

“Oh thank you,” she mumbled, holding her hand out, her nails brushing against the skin of his bare stomach, making him hyperaware of her and partially aroused, which was fucked up on so many levels. She stilled and tipped her head up to him. “Oops,” she giggled as her fingers caressed the line of his tattoo along his side.

Alec looked at Annette, who stared at him opened-mouthed. He gave her his best ‘don’t fuck with me’ smile. “Open the door and I’ll carry her inside.”

“Fine.” She opened her hand and he tossed her the keys.

Alec wrapped one arm around Violet’s shoulder and the other beneath her knees, lifting her and carrying her into the house.

“You smell so good,” she said, closing her eyes and burying her nose into his neck.

He chuckled. “Even with your vomit on me?”

Her eyes popped open and she moaned. “Did that really happen? Please tell me it didn’t.”

“Shh…don’t worry about it,” he answered, pushing the hair from her face and kissing the top of her head. “I was in the line of fire. I should have moved.”

She groaned. “How would you know that I was going to do that? I’d like to think I have better control when I drink, but I don’t do this much or ever.”

“Unfortunately, I have plenty of experience with people who’ve had too much to drink.”

“Mostly women, I bet.” She closed her eyes again, shaking her head. “Ignore I said that. I don’t care. I don’t want to know.”

He smiled, brushing his lips across her feather soft hair. “Not always. You’d be surprised what I’ve seen.”

“Crazy clients,” she said, referring to the job he told her he had.

“Something like that.” Lying to her on top of everything else didn’t sit well with him, but confessing the depth of his deception while she was intoxicated and sick didn’t seem very productive. It could wait until she felt better. He had so much to explain to her and only two weeks remained until he left. Hopefully he’d never have to return. Even as the thought flashed through his mind, the idea of never seeing Violet again tugged uncomfortably at his heart.

Following Annette down the short hallway, he stepped into a room that had to be Violet’s. Soft blue walls, lavender bedding covered with a sea of gray, cream, and blue pillows greeted him. It suited her.

“Dizzy. So dizzy,” she murmured into his chest while her hands clawed at the bare skin of his chest.

“Are you going to be sick again?”

“Oh my God,” she groaned, her voice both strained and alarmed. “I think so.”

“Hold on, Little Violet,” he whispered into her ear, skittering his fingertips along the clammy skin of her forehead.

“Where’s the bathroom?” he barked at Annette.

“Use this,” she answered, shoving a clear trashcan lined with plastic in his face.

With the trashcan in one hand, he sat down on the edge of the bed, cradling Violet in his lap.

Her stomach rumbled and once again she threw up the contents of her stomach. “So embarrassing.”

“How much did you let her drink?” he yelled at Annette. Didn’t she care what happened to her friend?

“Enough to forget what an asshole you are,” she shot back as she handed Violet a hand towel.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“That she may have been with me today, but you’re the reason she felt the urge to self-medicate.”

Well, fuck. He didn’t have an answer for that. Violet was strong and caring. He hated that he held any responsibility for her current state. “Can you bring her a glass of water and some Ibuprofen?”