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Princess Next Door

Page 11

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He made sure to glare down any guy who approached with the hope of getting her to dance. That shit wasn’t happening, not on his watch.

By the end of the night, they all left the bar. His friends took off in their truck, and he looked at Marshall.

“I live right next door to her. I can take her home.”

“Come on, Marshall. It’s time to go before the babysitter charges us triple.”

“You better not hurt her.”

“I have no intention of ever hurting her,” he said. “It makes no sense driving out of your way when I’m going in exactly the same direction.”

“He’ll be fine, Marshall. I’m not so far gone that I can’t kick him in the balls like you taught me to.”

“See, I’ll even let her do that.”

Marshall nodded. “Call me as soon as you get home.”

“I will.” She threw her arms around Marshall, kissing his cheek. “Have a nice night, and thank you so, so much for bringing me out.” She moved away, and linked her arm with his. “You’re so sweet offering to take me home.”

“A real gentleman would do that.”

He nodded at Marshall, and took Princess home with him.

“I really enjoyed tonight. I was worried that I’d hate it. I begged Tammy to come with me. They really struggle to get a babysitter. Their kids like to tease and torment all of the people that look after them. I normally babysit for them if they want to go out, and I had to bribe them, offering ten dollars and a week of pizza.”

He loved listening to her talk.

“Could you pull over?” Princess said.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“I think I’m going to be sick.”

Before he had the chance to pull over, she leaned between her legs, and he cursed as she hurled vomit down onto the floor.

He rolled down his window and pulled up. She was still vomiting, and the stench was putrid.

Easing her out of the truck, he held her as she kept on vomiting.

“I’ve got you,” he said.

“I feel awful. This is not normal,” she said.

“Is this the first time you’ve drunk?”

“Yeah, I think it could have been the wings I ate on the way out tonight.”

“You made them?”

“No, I bought them. I didn’t have time to cook myself anything.”

When she stopped, he got her in the truck and put his foot to the gas to get there faster.

By the time he pulled up, she was about to vomit again, and he got her upstairs to her bathroom before she did it on the floor. Not that it mattered much, as she was covered in vomit. Holding her hair out of the way, he grabbed her cell phone, dialing Marshall.

“You got home already.”

Before he spoke, Princess vomited.

“I’ve got it under control, but it seems alcohol really, really doesn’t agree with her. It’s all over my truck. It okay if I get her to call you tomorrow?”

“Crap, do you want us to come over?”

“No, no, I’ve got it. She’s in safe hands.”

“I’ll talk tomorrow,” Princess said, then vomited.

He heard Marshall wince. “Good luck, man.”

Five minutes later, Princess was crying. “This is so wrong. My stomach is cramping real bad, and I think I got vomit down my boobs.”

Turning on the shower, Zane didn’t see himself getting home to his bed.

Holding her in his arms, he stripped her down to her underwear, and even as he wished he had the chance to admire her, he was in no mood to be thinking anything sexy. His car stank, he had vomit on himself, and now he had a very ill Princess on his hands. Getting her washed and dried took him nearly an hour, and when he had her in bed, he took a shower. Gathering up their clothes, he was about to do some laundry when she appeared in the bathroom and began vomiting again.

He was starting to think it wasn’t the beer but the food she’d eaten.

“I’m never eating takeout again.”

So many people had said the same old thing.

It was going to be a long night. Instead of being pissed about that, though, Zane found himself smiling as he headed to her laundry room. There were worse ways to spend an evening.

Chapter Four

Wynter woke with the worst feeling in the world. Grabbing her head, she groaned and turned to see Zane lying beside her. She gasped, sitting up in the bed.

“There’s some painkillers and water by your lamp.” He held onto her pillow, and she stared down at him, startled to see him in her room.

“Erm, what are you doing here?” she asked.

“Give yourself a moment and last night will all come flooding back, and you won’t need to ask another question.”

She’d gone out drinking, and slowly, she recalled being in the bar with Zane. Dancing with him, listening to him perform with his group, and then she winced. “I vomited in your car.”



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