The cab driver jerked to a stop in front of my building, and I heaved against Rock but managed to keep everything down.
“Damn it!” Rock said. “Do you have to drive like a maniac?”
“You’re not from New York, are you, man?” the cabbie said.
“No, I’m not. Not in this lifetime, anyway. But unfortunately I guess I’d better get used to it. Come on, Lacey.” Rock helped me out of the cab, and then gave the driver a few bills. “Let’s get you home.”
Somehow, I managed to walk past the doorman and get into the building. Then Rock and I took the elevator to my small apartment on the top level. By the time we made it to my door, I was ready to give up and fall asleep in the hallway.
I fumbled with the keys again, until he took them from me and had the door unlocked in a matter of seconds. He guided me inside my apartment.
I turned to him.
He was so damned gorgeous!
But he had to leave now. I was about ready to blow big chunks, and I really didn’t want Rock Wolfe to witness it. “Thanks for getting me home.”
“Not a problem. Show me your bedroom—”
“Oh, no. Not going there tonight.”
“So I can help you get to bed. You could actually let me finish a sentence, Lacey.
“Nope. I can take care of myself—” I ran into the bathroom, slamming the door behind me. I barely got the cover of the toilet up before I vomited.
Let me die now.
Two more heaves and my stomach was empty of the two hundred dollars plus worth of bourbon I’d put away. Not to mention the dinner I’d shared—and paid for—with Rock.
At least I felt a little bit better. But not much.
I fumbled for a bottle of ibuprofen in my medicine cabinet and swallowed four, followed by a glass of lukewarm water. Blech. But at least I probably wouldn’t wake up with a headache. Then I brushed my teeth furiously and gargled some mouthwash, which almost made me hurl again.
Rock pounded on the door, to the tune of a vibrating jackhammer. “You okay in there?”
I wasn’t the quietist puker in the world. If I could have disappeared into thin air, I would have. How could I look him in the eye? Didn’t matter, I assured myself. Rock and I were over. No way would I be going to bed with that douchebag again.
Though he had gotten me safely home.
Why did he keep doing things that endeared him to me?
But no. I was hardened. I splashed some cold water on my face and wiped the mascara raccoon eyes off with a cotton pad. Then I drew in a deep breath and opened my bathroom door.
There he stood, looking as magnificent as he had at dinner earlier.
“You okay?” he said again. “Can I get you anything?”
I let out a slow breath. “Just your absence. I’m going to bed.”
“Hey, Lacey. Don’t be that way.”
“Look.” I pushed him out of my way. “I have no intention of sleeping with you again. But even if I did, I am in no shape to get busy tonight. I’m exhausted—”
“And sick,” he added.
“I was sick.” Why deny it? He’d heard everything. “I’m okay now.”
He chuckled. “That’s a lot of money you just flushed down the toilet.”
Ugh, don’t remind me. “So if you’ll be on your way,” I said, “I’ll be getting to bed. I have a busy workday tomorrow.” Just thinking of my nine o’clock meeting had my heart pounding harder and my tummy doing somersaults.
“Let me tuck you in. I want to make sure you’re all right.”
My heart blipped a bit, but I was still not in the mood. I just needed my bed. I pushed him toward the door. “Please. Just go. Thank you for everything, but just go.”25RockI didn’t want to go. The fact surprised me more than a little, given I knew she wasn’t up for any kind of romp. I was feeling something new, something I wasn’t altogether comfortable with. I wanted to take care of her, sleep next to her, and hold her. Get her to the bathroom if she got sick again.
This was so not me, and it was freaking me out.
What was the best thing to do, then?
Leave, like she’d asked me to.
But not before I got her into bed—to sleep.
I reached for her hand. “Come on. Let’s get you to bed.”
“I told you—”
“Do you really think I’m the kind of guy who would take advantage of a woman in your current state? Give me a little credit.”
A giant yawn split her face, and I took her hand and led her through an open door that I assumed was her bedroom. I smiled. The bed was unmade, and laundry was strewn about. It was endearing. Most women I knew were such tidy freaks.