Her Best Men - Page 275

“Ahh, well, I'm certainly glad you did,” he said. “It's been so long since we hung out, I –”

“We never hung out, Cason,” I laughed, pushing my roast around my plate with my fork. “You were my lab partner. We studied after school a few times, but we never hung out like we were friends or something. It was always about our lab work.”

That shut him right up. I watched his jaw clench and his smile was gone. He just sat there and stared at me, an inscrutable expression on his face. I felt bad for being so blunt with him since I could tell my words had hurt him.

He looked like I'd slapped him across the face, but it was the truth – whether he cared to admit it or not. Suddenly, and completely out of the blue, the McCormick brothers were interested in me, and all three of them were lavishing me with attention. While it was flattering at first, it quickly became overwhelming and I was incredibly nervous about their intentions.

I was so nervous that my stomach roiled, and a wave of nausea hit me hard.

“Excuse me,” I said quickly.

I jumped out of my chair and rushed toward the bathroom, afraid I might not make it in time. Thankfully, I managed to get to the hall bathroom and slammed the door behind me, falling to my knees in front of the toilet before I lost everything.

I let it all out, and knew they could probably hear me throwing up. I emptied what felt like everything I'd eaten in the past year into the toilet, praying that I'd feel better once I stopped vomiting.

I retched again and heard a soft knock on the door.

“Yes?” I croaked.

“Are you alright, honey?” It was my mom.

“Yeah, I think I just have a stomach bug,” I croaked. “I'll be right out.”

I pushed myself up off the floor and flushed the toilet. Leaning heavily upon the sink, I stared at myself in the mirror, not liking what I saw. I somehow managed to look pale as a ghost and a little green around the edges all at the same time. I pulled the mouthwash from the cabinet and swished it around my mouth for a few minutes before stepping back out into the dining room.

“Sorry about that,” I said, sliding back into my chair and avoiding eye contact with Cason. “Told you I wasn't feel up to going out.”

My mom piped up. “You've been throwing up a lot lately,” she said, a note of concern in her voice. “You sure you're okay, Hailey?”

“I'm fine, mom,” I said. “Just stress, I promise.”

I looked up and caught Cason watching me closely. He wasn't smiling, nor was he frowning. He had a neutral expression, but slowly, what looked like concern crossed his face as he looked at me.

I couldn't manage to take my eyes off of him, no matter how hard I tried. Sitting there looking at Cason like an idiot, I felt a tug at my lips as remembered Quinn kissing me earlier that day. They looked so much alike, even though Cason had the super short hair and Quinn's was grown out. You could tell they were brothers though, and that they were close in age. His golden eyes were soft, set apart from his rugged face with his chiseled cheekbones and strong jaw.

His lips were plumper than Quinn's, and as if he somehow knew I was looking, he licked them. His tongue slipping over those sexy lips caused something to stir deep inside of me. But just like before, when Quinn had kissed me, I pushed that feeling back and stuffed it down into that dark box inside my soul. I couldn't do that. Not now, and especially not with brothers.

Picking up my plate, I excused myself as I walked into the kitchen. At the same time, Cason offered to do the dishes. My mother objected, but it was a losing battle, as he insisted. Cason followed me into the kitchen, dishes in hand.

***

My parents had retired to the den to watch TV, leaving me alone with the youngest McCormick boy. I was apparently stuck with him, so I tried to make the best of a shitty situation. I did everything in my power to avoid talking about myself. Instead, I asked him a billion and one inane questions.

“Do you like your career? Are you and your brothers still close? Do you still play football?”

Every time he tried to turn it around on me, I had another question ready and waiting for him. And finally, when it felt like I might run out of questions, I started to panic. I racked my brain for something, some bit of trivial information. In my panic, what came out of my mouth was not what I wanted.

“Are you seeing anyone?”

The moment those words crossed my lips, I mentally kicked myself. I did not want to open up that line of conversation with him. It was a horrible mistake and one I hoped we could gloss over or otherwise just pass through quickly.

“I'm seeing you right now,” he said, giving me a sideways glance and a crooked smile.

“I mean –”

“I know what you mean,” he said with a sigh, wiping his hands on a dish towel. “And no, I'm not. I'm as single as they come. How about you?”

“Why's that?” I asked, putting the last of the dishes away in the cupboard beside the fridge.

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