She fights a smile as her eyes close.
“I guess that’s close enough.” She sighs with a content smile on her lips.
“Oh? You feel special enough now?” I ask, hoping to tease her a little and get back to how we were, but… she doesn’t answer. In fact, her entire body goes limp as a light snoring sound starts coming from her.
My body shakes with silent laughter at how quickly she’s out, and I snatch her untouched, disgusting bowl of soup. After wrapping it up and putting it in the fridge to be reheated later, I head back toward the living room and change the channel off her damn chick show.
While Bella sleeps, Allie calls numerous times to check in on her, and I’m using a damn weird thermometer on her head like she’s a baby while she sleeps just so I can update Nurse Allie.
My phone buzzes on the table, and I grab it when I see my father’s name flash across the screen. There had so better not be another work thing.
“Hello?”
“Ethan, sorry to bother you so late,” he says, though we both know he doesn’t mind calling me no matter what time it is. “But your mother insists on finding out if you’re coming to dinner next week. She had to reschedule your Welcome Home dinner because of the business deal you needed to take care of, but she’s got it all planned out once again.”
Propping up against the wall, I watch as Bella sleeps and mutters something about magic pussy and fairy boob implants. It’s impossible not to laugh a little, wishing I could see a projection screen of whatever she’s dreaming.
“Ethan?” Dad prompts, reminding me he’s waiting.
“Yeah. I’ll be there. I’ll also be bringing someone with me.”
“Someone as in Wren? Or someone special?” he asks, intrigued.
“I’m bringing someone special,” I tell him, smirking at how Bella will be pleased to hear that.
“Alright then. I’ll have your mother text you with all the details, and I’ll let her know you have someone coming.”
I hang up and head to Bella’s room, pulling the covers down.
Even though I’ve been in here a lot, I haven’t taken a chance to really soak it in. My eyes flit around her girly-as-fuck room, and I take in the fact she doesn’t have any pictures up like most chicks. At least not of herself. All her pictures are of Angel or Allie or… Is there really a picture of a hamburger hanging up? But no pictures of her.
When I head back into the living room, Bella is muttering about “those damn hippos.” Laughing again, I scoop her up, trying not to think of the fact she’s wearing my t-shirt. I’m almost positive she’s not wearing any shorts under it when I cradle her to me and the shirt rides up on her legs.
She nestles into me as I carry her to the bedroom, and I swallow down the knot in my throat when I put her in the bed and look at her. Weird as it sounds, I don’t think any girl has ever worn my shirt before. It’s not like I leave my stuff lying around too often.
“Magic touch,” she mutters in her sleep, grinning as she does, and I shake my head.
If she doesn’t kill me in the morning, she might actually give me another shot.
Suddenly, Bella is bolting upright, and I’m cursing as she falls out of the bed.
“What the—”
“Trashcan!” she yelps, and then makes some really weird, somewhat scary sound.
I dive, grab the trashcan from the corner of the room, and shove it toward her. She pretty much tears it out of my hands, and starts heaving.
Good thing I have an iron-clad stomach right now, because that’s brutal.
Grabbing her hair, I pull it back, keeping it far away from her mouth as she heaves and heaves and… Is this ever going to stop? She has to be hurting by now.
“Oh damn. Just kill me. Please just kill me,” she whimpers as she finally backs away from the trashcan.
Instead of granting her request, I go turn on the shower, because it’s a little bit of everywhere. As soon as the water is right, I strip out of my clothes and head back into the bedroom.
Her eyes widen when she sees me. “I just hurled until my guts turned inside out, and you take that as a cue to get naked?”
She loves to paint a vivid imagery.