Page 62 of Don't Lie to Me
NINETEEN
I woke up the next morning under the softest comforter I had ever felt in my entire life and on top of smooth as silk chocolate brown sheets. I was not in my bed, and my heart rate began thumping wildly out of control. I peeked out from under the covers and closed my eyes when the sunshine from the windows pierced straight into my brain.
Where in the hell was I? And how did I get here? Was I drugged? That would certainly explain why my head felt like it was going to explode and my mouth felt like I swallowed a bag of cotton balls.
I laid back down and closed my eyes hoping to stop the pounding in my head. I was out with Macy, Tate and Dean at Sip’s. Dean and I danced and he hit on me. My eyes flew open and I immediately regretted even the smallest, quickest movement. Dean hit on me. But he had said he was joking. Right? Right. Of course he was just joking. He said something about me being his sister.
I talked to Jack. I groaned and burrowed even further under the covers as I tried to recall Jack’s phone call. He was angry. I knew that. And I led him to believe Dean was taking me home. And then I left. The memories came slowly back like a loosely fit jigsaw puzzle.
I left the bar in a cab with Dean. I moaned miserably again. Am I at Dean’s? I looked around the room for more clues. First – I was wearing a man’s t-shirt. But it was grey and non-descript and I didn’t know Dean well enough to know what types of shirts he wore.
A knock on the door startled me and I crawled up against the headboard. I curled my legs up in front of me, and hoped that somehow, I could let Dean down easily. A quick glance to the side of the bed told me it was still made. It hadn’t been slept in.
I sunk my head into my knees. Thank goodness.
“Yea?” I asked, when someone knocked again. My throat felt like I had swallowed a bowl full of broken glass and I cringed at the sound of my own voice.
My mouth dropped open when Marcus peeked his head in through the door.
“You awake?”
“I’m inyourhouse? How in the hell did that happen?”
Marcus chuckled and stepped into his room. He was holding a large bottle of a yellow sports drink, a bottle of pills, and my phone.
“Oh god, you’re my hero,” I moaned and rested my head back against the headboard. Marcus handed me the drink and my pills.
“Jack’s been calling every ten minutes for the last hour. He’s kind of a persistent ass, isn’t he?”
Marcus had no idea. I turned my phone off without even looking at the number of missed calls I had.
“What happened to me last night?” I asked after guzzling half of the drink bottle.
His shoulders started shaking as he shook his head and sat down on the bed by my feet. “I called you when you were out because Logan had a nightmare and couldn’t go back to sleep. Dean brought you here and dropped you off, but Logan had already fallen back asleep. You could barely walk so I brought you in here. You don’t remember?” He laughed again and I could only imagine what dumbass things my drunk-self did.
“Do I even want to know?”
“Nothing bad I swear. You were funny.”
“Glad I could amuse you. Thanks for letting me stay.”
“Not a problem. I have eggs and bacon cooking for Logan and me. Feel like you could stomach some food, right now?”
Grease sounded exceptionally good. “Can I use your bathroom to get cleaned up a bit first?”
He nodded and went to the bathroom and came out a few seconds later with a towel and unopened toothbrush. “Not a problem. But can I give you a suggestion?”
“What’s that?”
“Call Jack before he has a heart attack. I turned your phone on last night to call Macy to let her know you were here and you had ten missed calls from him. And another handful of calls and texts this morning.”
I wrinkled my nose and felt myself grow crimson from anger and embarrassment. I didn’t want to call Jack. I barely remembered the phone call from the bar. Although I could figure from his incessant calling afterwards, it probably didn’t end so well.
I nodded and closed the door to the bathroom. Mascara ran halfway down my cheeks, my brown hair was matted and crazy from sleeping on it, and I had lipstick smeared all over my mouth. I looked like a demented clown.
Before Jack could call or text me again, I sent him a quick text message, hoping it would pacify him.
I’m fine. Now leave me alone.
