66

Piper

A Splitting Headache

The presentation went super good.

So, so, so good. I didn't know what it was, but I just felt loose and so energetic. With each slide that passed, I was slinging the kind of corny jokes that Adam made and grinning at the audience. And they were having fun . We all had fun!

The only thing that could've made it better is if Adam was in the audience.

I passed out a dozen little prizes for the bingo before it started winding down, and I needed to start making my rounds, and everybody was so smiley, and so super happy.

Except… it was super hard to get up after I sat down.

My residents left one after another and someone kneeled down next to me. "Hey. Are you okay?"

"What?" I asked, trying to blink my eyes open. "Oh…my god." I sighed. "I feel sick ."

It didn't matter how much I couldn't get up, I shoved myself into a standing position and stumbled to the bathroom. A sour taste filled my mouth. No—not my first event!

It didn't matter how much I didn't want to do it; I threw up in the toilet and sank to the cool tile, crumpling into myself like a stepped-on pastry. What got me? Food poisoning? Was I sick?

My brain hurt. I had no idea what it was. All I knew was the presentation was a huge success and Adam, the Marrs Manwhore, the corniest linebacker in the world, was finally coming back to my dorm, back to me . I missed him.

I tried to push back on my elbows. "He can't see me like this…"

I didn't have a choice.

Staring up at the fluorescent lights, I blinked in turn with them and tried to focus. I needed to call my boss. But my phone was turned off. Because Thomas— my loser, stupid ex-boyfriend who could never keep it in his pants—wouldn't stop calling me and texting me. Rat-faced nobody. And my phone might as well have been in the Sahara Desert for all the good it did for me.

Shouting started in the living room. Why are they shouting?

"Piper? Piper?! "

I knew that voice, I loved that voice. I knew that voice like I knew my favorite song on the radio. A warm feeling spread through my chest. A smile fluttered across my face, not quite stapled on. "Adam?"

The door flew open and there he was.

Yummy .

"Holy fuck—fuck me—fuck me—" Adam dipped down next to me, all muscles—and for some weird reason—he was panicking. Like, full-on, wide-eye panicking. The presentation had gone so good. Why is he stressing out? "Ice princess, come on, you have to get up. Come here."

"I threw up," I said, sad thinking about it.

"It's okay. You're going to be okay." He put his hand on my forehead, and he was so warm to the touch I instantly curled up next to him.

I couldn't remember when I'd gotten so cold.

How long have I been lying on the tile?

Adam leaned over me, his usual carefree face covered in lines and lines of worry. He sucked in breaths like he was doing it through a straw. He looked pinched. Pinched and panicking, that was Adam. But that was never Adam. Why was he freaking out? He was freaking me out.

"Are you hurt?" he urged. "Did you fall?"

"No…I just…threw up…"

"We're going. Grab hold of me."

Against all reason, my hand reached up without me telling it too and I stroked the side of his face. His perfect jaw and the little bit of stubble that grazed my fingertips. "I'm so happy you're here."

If the walls weren't spinning behind him, I could've sworn Adam's hands were shaking. "How much did you drink?"

"Drink?"

"The peach lemonade."

"Oh my god—that was super good—"

"Piper," he interjected, holding me up when I started falling back. "How much did you drink?"

I struggled to remember. "Two…?"

"Sips?"

"Cans…?"

Adam paled. His eyes flickered back and forth between me and the ground before he wrapped an arm around me and carefully held me up. Why is he moving me? I was so comfortable on the tile, but he was so determined to waltz me around. My head lolled back against his chest, and he adjusted to it, basically puppeteering me out of the bathroom.

"I need…mouthwash…" I mumbled, and he adjusted me to stand in front of the sink.

"You're on call…" Adam drew in a slow breath, propping me up. "They can't find out you're drinking. This is bad. Oh fuck me, this is bad."

When I was finished, he took me out to my couch and started pacing on the floor.

"Everybody's coming to the second event." He ran his hand through his hair. "And you have to do the fucking rounds and the noise complaints—fuck. Fuck! "

"Who cares?" My words slurred, even if I tried to keep them together. "I want tacos."

"Goddammit, I care." He wiped his face with his hand, still panicking, still exhausting me. "I care so fucking much, Piper. You have no idea how much I fucking—"

He stopped himself and froze. A beat passed.

"Someone has to be the responsible one here," he finally said. "And you are not getting in fucking trouble. You're not getting fired. You're not losing your job."

Adam disappeared and came back with a cool washcloth. He laid it over my forehead and I couldn't do much more than lie back on the couch. When I tried to touch his face again, he held my hand and stopped me.

The way his dark eyes trailed over my face…I couldn't stop gazing up at him.

How pretty.

"You're so beautiful," I murmured.

Adam froze, still holding the washcloth. His eyebrows furrowed. "What did you just say?"

"You're so beautiful," I repeated with a smile. "You're a very beautiful man. I think about it all the time."

"Piper, I—" He shook his head. "You're drunk."

"Not drunk."

"Yeah, you are. You're talking batshit crazy."

"Oh. Maybe I am drunk?" I frowned and leaned back against the couch. "But you're still beautiful."

There weren't a lot of times when I saw Adam Russell taken aback but that was one of them. He stared at me with the most incredulous look on my face. Like I just spoke a dead language out of the blue. He swallowed. And then he said my name, just a breeze between his lips, before a knock echoed on the door.