Slowly, she raises her arm in the air, eyes skeptically watching mine. I slip the band on her wrist, lining up the plastic disk withthe pressure point below her hand. “Other wrist. When was the last time you ate something, sweetheart?”
She raises her other arm in the air. “Last night. And it all came back out. I’m scared to eat anything else.”
“Sit tight, Gem.” I start for the kitchen.
“Ugh, can you stop with the names?”
“What?”
“Sweetheart.Beautiful.Gem. Just use my name like a normal person.”
“Sure thing, Willa.” Laughing quietly, I rummage through the other bags on the counter. I didn’t even realize I wasn’t using her name, which probably means something I’m not going to think too hard about right now. I reach for my next remedy, opening it while heading back to the couch. She needs something—anything—in her stomach. “Here, Willa.”
She scowls at the bag like it’s a rabid squirrel. “…Chips?”
“I’m about to make you some soup, but see if you can handle a few, swee—Willa.”
Her indignant stare bores into me as she reaches inside and places a chip in her mouth. How she does it in slow motion is beyond me.Shit.Not now.She feels like garbage, just threw up in the sink, but the way she slides the chip on her tongue sends my attention straight to her lips. Closing her eyes, she fucking moans like it’s the best thing she’s ever tasted, and despite knowing it was exclusively for the snack, my body reacts anyway.What the hell is wrong with you? This is the worst time for a semi but, luckily, the darkness is my friend. I clear my throat as a distraction. “Good?”
She snatches the bag out of my hand so fast, I draw back to keep all of my fingers attached. The foil rustles as she quickly demolishes the chips, but even with her attention long gone, I’m still feeling the effects as I walk back into the kitchen and adjust myself.Calm the fuck down. I flip on the light and get to work. Spraying the sink and counters with the bottle of cleaner, I wipe everything down with paper towels, disposing of them in an empty grocery bag at my feet. After using soap and the hottestwater I can stand to wash my hands, I turn around to find Willa watching me from the couch. “Everything okay, Ge—Willa?”
“Did you just clean my kitchen?”
“You’ve been puking in it. Didn’t think you wanted the extra flavor in your soup. Is that okay, Will?—”
“Ohmygod! Stop saying my name.” She sits up straighter, cocking her head to the side.
I laugh, a little surprised it took her this long to catch on. “You just told me to use your name…” I tease.
“Yeah, but now you’re being a smart-ass.”
“Okay, so what do you want me to call you?”
“Anything you want. Just stop being weird.”
“Okay…bossy.”
Her glare only makes my smile grow as I wink at her, turn my back, and search for a pot.
Willa suckeddown three bowls of potato soup and a ginger soda so quickly, I contemplated running back to the store for more. Right now, she’s lounging against the arm of the couch with her eyes closed and a sated smile on her face. Her defenses have fallen enough that sitting next to her doesn’t feel like a one-way trip to a lion’s den.
“Thanks, Trevor,” she says on a sigh, fiddling with the wristbands on her arms. “How did you know these would work?”
“I asked my sister.”
Her eyes fly open in a panic. “You told your sister I’m pregnant?”
“Nope. Told her it was for a friend. But we should tell our families pretty soon, considering our friends already know.”
She takes a deep breath, heaving out a forceful puff of air. “I was going to wait until Thanksgiving to tell myparents…” Her teeth sink into her lower lip as she wrings her hands. I’ve met them before, a couple of times when tagging along with Ashlie and Hunter. They’re intense, but friendly enough, in my experience. I don’t have many details about her strained relationship with them, but it involves her choosing a different path for her life than they wanted. I imagine this kind of news won’t go over well with them at all.
“I’ll come with you…if you want.”
“You’re not going home?”
“Nope. I go home once a year, at Christmas. I usually tough Thanksgiving out on my own.”
“Oh. Why?”
