Princess Next Door

“Yes, you did, and I’m sure there’s a nice big puddle out there as well. Not to mention all the vomiting you did in here last night. Those wings you ate must have been really nasty.” He held onto the pillow, and she chanced another glance at him.

He wasn’t wearing a shirt, and with a quick look underneath her sheet, she saw he was also in boxer briefs.

Nibbling her lip, she looked at him. “Did we, erm, did we…”

“Have sex?”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Oh.”

He laughed. “Don’t sound so disappointed. Believe it or not, Princess, I don’t screw a vomiting body, nor do I screw a corpse.”

“A corpse?”

“You were completely out of it last night, and the idea of being with you didn’t appeal, not at all.”

“That bad?”

“Yep, that bad.”

She rubbed at her eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

“You also vomited in my truck, and I’ve not even gone down to check how bad that is.”

“I will totally clean it. I promise.”

“You feeling any better?”

Her stomach felt tender, but her head was easing, and besides being completely embarrassed, she felt fine. “Yes.”

“Good. You need to call Marshall. I told him you would in the morning. You were too busy hurling last night.”

“I will. I will totally do that.”

He held out her cell phone. “Here you go.” He snuggled back into her bed.

“You slept here last night?”

“I was worried that you’d fall asleep with vomit in your mouth, and that image wouldn’t leave me, so I decided to be a gentleman and stay. I hope that’s okay.”

“It is.” She held her cell phone. “I’ll go make the call.”

“Take your painkillers first. It’ll help with the bad head.”

She took the painkillers and entered her bathroom, closing the door silently behind her.

Stepping in front of the mirror, she winced. She looked awful. Her eyes were all dark from the small amount of makeup she’d worn last night.

She didn’t stink, which she was happy about.

Dialing Tammy’s number, she waited for her friend to answer.

“It’s about time you called. How are you feeling?” Tammy asked.

“I’m feeling … okay.”

“Marshall said you were vomiting last night. You didn’t have that much to drink.”

“I ate some takeout food, and believe me, I won’t be doing that again anytime soon. That stuff was just disgusting.” She wrinkled her nose. “Zane took care of me. Like … all night.”

“You sound surprised.”

“That’s a sweet thing to do, right? Take care of someone you don’t really know?”

“He still there?”

“Yes. I need to clean his truck.”

“You threw up in his truck?”

“Yep.”

“I’ll be telling Marshall about that. He felt so guilty leaving you with Zane, but he loves his car.”

She laughed. “It was fine. Zane didn’t hurt me or anything, and I feel really comfortable around him.”

“If you ask me if that’s normal, I will slap you,” Tammy said.

“Okay, okay, I won’t say anything.” Even though all she wanted to do was ask the question.

“Have you ever just thought about trusting your gut with something like this?”

“No, absolutely not,” she said.

“Zane seems like a nice guy, and he could have just left you last night. I think you need to stop overthinking everything, otherwise you’re going to drive yourself insane.”

“Noted, and I hate to say this, but I am already there,” she said. She rubbed at her head. “Do you think I should make him breakfast?”

Tammy laughed. “Why don’t you think about fixing his truck, and then how he took care of you? Maybe there’s truth in that little rumor after all.”

Wynter snorted. She couldn’t help it. “Houses don’t bring people together. There’s no truth in it.”

“We’ll see. I can hear wedding bells in the distance.”

Saying goodbye, she hung up. Then she freshened herself so she looked like she could at least join the land of the living rather than staying camped out in her bathroom.

When she opened her door, Zane was already awake and stretching. He stood in front of her window, and she couldn’t help but admire the dragon tattoo on his back. The blue and black ink coming together as one was mesmerizing.

“I’m going to clean your truck, and I’m also going to say thank you so much for taking care of me. You really didn’t have to do any of that, and yet you did.”

He laughed and turned toward her. “I’m a real hero.”

“So as a real hero, do you want breakfast?”

“Bacon, eggs, and waffles?” he asked.

“I can make all of that if you’d like.”

“Count me in. I’ll check on our clothes. I did a load of laundry last night in between you vomiting.”

Once again, another reason to really appreciate him. He was not even rubbing it in her face, which she was pleased about.

Heading downstairs, she began making breakfast, settling for a bowl of fruit and some toast for herself.

She was nervous as he came out and began looking around her stuff.

“Did it take you long to move in?” he asked.