I tuned out the rest of what they said, relief flooding through me when the hot breaths of Henry met my palm, one after the other. How much had he drunk to get in this state? Was this how I’d looked to him the night before?
After trying to peel his arm away from his face, with no success, I leaned closer, a small grunt falling from me when I realised his entire body was dead weight.
“Just let him sleep it off,” Jace said. “He’ll be fine in a few hours.”
“There’s no way we can leave him passed out like this,” I argued, appalled that this was the way guys operated. Us girls would never allow any one of us to sleep out here this way, exposed to the night air, passers-by, and who knew what else.“Anything could happen to him. We need to get him back to his room.”
“Been there. Tried that. He isn’t shifting. He told me to fuck off several times for my efforts, too.”
“He’s spoken to you?”
Jace laughed. “Yeah. He’s drunk, not dead.”
I glanced back down at Henry only to find his eyes were now slightly open and he stared up at me through a haze of alcohol. They were still partly shielded by his forearm, but I saw the look he gave me. I saw it, and I begged my body not to respond like it had earlier.
“Henry,” I said quietly. “It’s Phoebe. You okay?”
His lips moved, but no sound came out.
I reached up to pull his heavy, limp arm away from his face again. Thankfully, him being partially awake this time helped a little, and he let me move him, the two of us somehow working together to bring his hand down so it rested on his chest, leaving his face exposed for me to look at.
Even a drunken mess, Henry Cohen was a beautiful stranger to me.
Forbidden… but beautiful.
“What are you doing down here? You need to go to bed. This isn’t safe.”
“Bed,” he croaked.
“Can you sit up?”
“Phoebe, come on. He’s fine,” Jace complained, and I’d had just about enough of him. I refused to tolerate being a bad friend, and Jace was showing me his whole personality in that moment, and just how much he cared about his supposed friend.
I looked at Rhea. “Why don’t you guys go ahead? I’ll get one of the members of staff to help me carry Henry up to his room. He clearly needs his bed. I’ll get him there and make sure he’s okay.”
“What? No way—” she started to argue.
“Rhea, I’m fine,” I cut her off. “You know what I’m like. My conscience wouldn’t let me go out partying because I’d be worried there would be a dead body when we returned.”
“Jeez, the drama,” Jace grumbled, earning himself a very stern stare from Rhea. If he was trying to hook up with her, this was entirely the wrong way for him to go about it. For all Rhea’s snark, no one could fault her unwavering loyalty.
“Please, Rhea,” I said, laying a look on her that told her I couldn’t be budged on this.
Her shoulders slumped, and she pointed a finger my way. “You call me the minute you’ve got him back to his room.”
“I promise.” I nodded. “Jace, can I borrow your room key to let him in?”
“He’s in his own apartment. It’s next to ours. Room thirty-two. Cohen doesn’t share shit, especially not his personal space on holiday. He’s too private for that. The key will be in the back pocket of his shorts. It’s where he keeps his important crap.”
“Okay.” I swallowed, trying not to think about how I might have to reach into that at some point. “Thank you.”
“Are you sure, Bee?” Rhea asked, unable to hide her concern.
“I really am.”
“Fine. But I’m not happy about this.”
Rhea and Jace began to walk away, only for her to falter in her steps and look back at me. I glared at her and shook my head in warning. My mind had been made up. I wouldn’t back down now. So, with a small smile and a nod, she finally led Jace away…
