One Night with Hemsworth (One Night Series Book 1) (11 page)

He went to walk off, but my mouth did something surprising. “Did you really just say that in front of my boyfriend? The boyfriend who doesn’t cheat on me?”

Hamish sighed. “I already told you, she came on to me.”

“And you just accidently fell into her vagina?” Cole asked.

“Whatever. I’m not going to explain myself again, and certainly not to an
underwear model
. It’s been over a year already.”

“Oh, the statute of limitations on cheating.” I tapped my chin in fake thought. “I’ve heard of that. You can’t be charged with the crime if it’s been over twelve months. I think we covered that at uni. Guess I should forgive you, then.”

Hamish walked off without another word, leaving me feeling triumphant for the first time ever in the whole time we’d known each other. I never would’ve talked back like that when we were together.

I turned in Cole’s arms to face him, raising up on my tiptoes to kiss him again, but he pulled back and shook his head. “Nuh-uh. Back to first date rules. That was just for show.”

I licked my lips and looked up at him through my lashes. And I may have shamelessly batted them a few times.

“Don’t look at me like that.” He lifted his head, staring out at the water again.

I huffed. “Fine.” I dropped my arms from his.

“What’s with his nickname,
Minor
?”

“It’s my last name.”

“Oh.”

“Good thinking with the Hunter cover, by the way.”

“Lucky he didn’t ask me to show him my abs or anything. He would’ve seen right through my lie.”

“I dunno, you could pass for an underwear model.” I ran my hands up his abs and across his chest, wishing the material of his shirt wasn’t in my way.

He pulled away from me and sat back on the picnic rug, bringing me with him to sit across from him again.

“The one time Hunter asked me to fill in for one of his co-workers, they had to Photoshop the crap out of me.”

“Wait … are you saying you’ve actually done modelling before?” I started giggling, finding the whole thing funny and strangely arousing.
I’ve slept with a male model. Go me!

“Well, it’s not
that
funny, but yeah, once. They were desperate. And I’ll never do it again. It was horrible, I don’t know how Hunter does it. I may give him crap about his job, but he has the patience of a saint. ‘Stand here, turn this way, the lighting’s all wrong, wait here for twenty minutes in your underwear while we get ready.’ But it pays well, so I guess that’s how he brings himself to do it every day.”

“So you’re saying you wouldn’t give up your cabinetmaking job for a modelling career?”

“As much as I say I hate my job, it’s easy, it’s decent pay now I’m not an apprentice, and I barely have to talk to people. It’s not ideal, but whoever gets their dream job?”

I made a face. I didn’t mean to, but I could tell by his reaction that I must’ve winced.

“Your dream job is to be a lawyer, isn’t it?” He asked with a sad smile.

“I’ve always wanted to be a lawyer. I mean, I’m sure when I was younger I wanted to be something stupid and unrealistic like a unicorn trainer, but I knew when I started high school what I was going to do once I graduated. It was always the plan. I hate that it’ll be long hours, but who knows, maybe I’ll go into a small practice and not have to work as hard as Dad. He’s always worked insane hours, but he tried to keep at least one weekend a month free to do stuff with us. I’d like to be able to take off work whenever I need and be there for my kids more than he was.”

Cole visibly stiffened, even though he tried to hide it. “So you want kids, then? That’s a definite in your future?”

I hesitated for a moment, my tongue refusing to cooperate with the rest of my mouth. “I don’t know what the correct answer is here.”

“There’s no correct answer, this is meant to be about telling the truth.”

“Yeah, but I can see you’re about to freak-the-fuck out. If I say, yes, I definitely want kids, that’ll probably scare you off considering I’m the first person you’ve even contemplated dating for over three years. I assume if you thought you’d never date again, you also assumed you were done with kids. If I say, yes, but if the right person came along who didn’t want kids, I think it’d be a sacrifice I’d be willing to make, you’ll turn around and tell me I’m too young to make that kind of decision, and then we’ll get in a fight about possible future kids that you don’t want and I’m forcing you to have. Kids is definitely not a first date topic.”

He smiled. “Google said that, too. I really suck at first dates, don’t I?”

“It’s your first one ever, I think I’ll let it slide.”

13

- COLE -

“Okay, so on a scale of one to ten, where are we sitting at on the salvageable scale?” I asked, throwing the blanket and esky into the back of my ute.

“It’s not that bad. Okay, it’s not great, but trust me, I’ve heard a lot worse stories from Sara. You wouldn’t believe some of the dates she’s been on.”

“Really?”

“She actually had a guy answer his phone during their coffee date—”

I drop my mouth open in shock horror. “He didn’t?”

“You didn’t let me finish. He answers the phone, there’s some screaming woman on the other end of the line asking where he is, and he said he was with his sister! Turns out he was married.”

“Okay, yeah, that’s pretty bad.”

“And that’s just the tip of the iceberg.”

“Maybe I can save what’s left of our night with some dinner?”

She stood awkwardly next to the passenger side of the ute, her arm across her stomach like she was in pain. “Uh, I think I ate too much of that cheese. I’m not really hungry. I’m not feeling too good at all, actually.”

“Well, I’m not surprised. I didn’t even get any of the Camembert. I’ll remember to bring a whole wheel next time.” My smile faded when I noticed she wasn’t looking too hot, either. “Are you okay?” Her skin was paling by the second. “You’re looking kind of pale.”

She nodded, but her eyes glazed over as if she wasn’t really there.

“Paige?”

I took a step forwards, regretting it immediately when she bent forwards and started spewing.
Everywhere.

“That’s okay, I didn’t like those shoes anyway.” I stiffened and looked back towards the water and the beach. The smell alone was making me want to dry heave, so I didn’t want to see what was at my feet. If I started vomiting as well, it wouldn’t have helped the situation.

I’d never been good with vomit. Blood, guts, gore, that kind of thing I could handle, but puke? Ugh, just the thought of it made me queasy.

She was still bent over spewing her guts up, holding onto the bonnet of the car when I finally managed to calm my own stomach. I walked behind her, holding her hair and rubbing her back.

“Just when you thought this date couldn’t get any worse,” she muttered between sniffling and trying to catch her breath.

“Are you okay? I mean … I know that’s a stupid question, but do you feel better now you’ve thrown up?”

She nodded, still hunched over. “Yeah. I do, actually.” She went to stand straighter, but as soon as she did, she was back to vomiting again.

All I could smell was cheese. Breathing in through my mouth, I kept chanting in my head,
Don’t vomit, don’t vomit, don’t vomit,
while I kept rubbing her back.

“We should get you home. Do you think you’ll be able to sit in the car?”

With her hands on her knees, her breathing still deep and heavy, she didn’t answer me, just nodded her head and stood. She took one more deep breath in and then stepped over the impressively large puddle of vomit at our feet.

Once she was settled in her seat, she put her head back and closed her eyes. I reached over her, buckled her in, and then made my way to the driver’s side.

Before I pulled out of the lot, her head snapped up, her eyes wide and her skin still a deathly shade of grey.

“You’re not going to vomit again, are you? Tell me if I need to pull over.”

“No. It’s just … we can’t go home to mine. I’ll need help getting inside.”

I didn’t even hesitate. I indicated right to go to my house instead of left towards hers.

“Maybe I can call Sara. I can stay at hers,” she said, her eyes closing again and her voice pained.

“It’s fine, you can stay with me. Are you sure you’re not going to—”

“Pull over,” she grunted, her hand flying to her mouth.

I quickly pulled into the shoulder lane and stopped, just in time for her to open the door and start heaving again.

I reached over and rubbed her back, not sure of what else to do.

When she was finally done again, she sat straighter and closed the door, her head lolling to one side as she rested it against the back of her seat. “I don’t want to go back to yours.” Her voice was raw.

“Why not?” I asked, beginning to drive again.

“I don’t want you to see me like this.”

I laughed. “Shortcake, I have your vomit on my shoes. I’ve already seen plenty, and the fact I still want you to come back to mine speaks volumes. I don’t normally deal with puke, but I want to make sure you’re okay.”

“After trying to kill me, you mean? If I die, my headstone needs to read, ‘Killed by cheese.’”

At least she still had her sense of humour.
“I guess you can tell Sara you win with bad dates. I bet none of hers poisoned her.”

She huffed a tiny, adorable laugh. “You’d be surprised.” She took in a sharp gasp of air and held onto her side.

“We’re almost home, okay?”

Nodding, she closed her eyes again.

By the time I pulled my ute into the underground car park of the apartment building, her forehead was covered in sweat.

“Are you going to be able to make it up the stairs?”

She grunted but nodded.

I got out and went around her side to open the door for her. She rolled out, but I caught her before she hit the pavement.

“You’re not looking too good, Shortcake.”

“Screw you!”

I laughed. I couldn’t help it. “Sorry. Can you even walk?”

She nodded, but it was slow going all the way to the base of the stairs. At that rate, it was probably going to take us all night to climb them.

“Screw this,” I said, picking her up bridal style. “Just don’t throw up on me … uh, again.”

She threw her arms around my neck and nuzzled into my shoulder. “Thank you,” she whispered.

I banged on the door with my foot when I reached the top of the stairs for Hunter to open up, but he either was out or couldn’t hear me. Paige wasn’t heavy, but I’d carted her up three floors; I was sweating and my muscles were aching. “I have to set you down to open the door, okay?”

She mumbled something unintelligible and was wobbly on her feet as soon as I put her down.

When I got the door open, she shuffled forward, still looking pale and horrible. “Bathroom,” she muttered.

I took her arm and led her down the hallway as fast as we could manage. After she puked some more in the toilet with me holding her hair back, she lay on the bathroom floor. I stripped her of her shoes and shorts, which were covered in vomit, all without protest from her. Then I took my shoes and khaki pants off and added them to the pile of soiled clothes.

“Come on, let’s get you in bed,” I said, reaching down to lift her up.

“I’m not really in the mood for sex,” she replied weakly, making me laugh. I didn’t know if she was joking or just really out of it.

I picked her up under her arms, and she wrapped her legs around my waist and her arms around my neck, laying her head on my shoulder. She clung to me like some sort of giant koala.

Carrying her into the bedroom, I sat her down on my bed, then removed her top, and dressed her in one of my shirts.

After she climbed under the sheets, I covered her with the blanket and kissed her on the forehead. She had a temperature. “I’m going to get you a bucket and some water. You need to stay hydrated.”

“Mmm,” is what she replied with.

After I grabbed the bucket from the laundry and placed it by the bed, I got her a glass of water and some ibuprofen for her temperature, but she shook her head and refused to take it. I gave up for the moment, changed my shirt, and dressed in my jeans, collecting all of our old clothes to throw in the wash.

By the time I put the washing machine on and went back into the room, she was asleep. At least, she looked like she was. I didn’t want to ask and disturb her.

Even though we probably just had the worst date in history, I couldn’t help loving the sight of her in my bed, where I was beginning to believe she belonged.

Then she sat up and vomited again.

14

- PAIGE -

Am I dead yet? No? Can someone please kill me then?

I awoke to voices in the hall. After vomiting for most of the night, I was hoping with all hope that I was over the worst of it.

Groaning, I tried to roll onto my back, but it turned out moving was a very bad idea. So instead, I stayed lying on my side, breathing deeply and praying I wouldn’t throw up again.

“It’s just food poisoning,” I heard Cole say out in the hall.

“Are you sure? When did you start screwing around with her?” Hunter asked.

“Like a few weeks ago.” There was a pause, then, “Don’t look at me like that. She’s not pregnant, you dick.”

“I’m just saying,” Hunter sing-songed.

I tried not to laugh because any kind of movement made me want to be sick again, but their conversation was hilarious.

“I’m not telling her to pee on a freaking stick. I sent you out for Gatorade, not pregnancy tests.”

“Guys, the walls are paper thin, remember?” I called out. They both charged into the room.

“You’re awake,” Cole said.

I tried to sit up but was too dizzy.

“Don’t sit up, sweetness,” Hunter said.

“I don’t think I can, anyway.” My head fell back on my pillow.

“So … uh …” Hunter started, holding up the plastic bag in his hand.

I smiled. “I’m not pregnant. I can assure you of that.”

“How are you sure?” Hunter asked.

“Well, if you must know, I had shitty girl disease earlier this week,” I said plainly.

“Shitty, what?” Cole asked.

I giggled, realising I’d used the term Sara and I use for it. “Well,” I started in a condescending tone, “every twenty-eight days or so—”

“You call your period
shitty girl disease
?” Cole asked, kind of shocked.

“Best description I’ve ever heard for it,” Hunter said with a laugh. “So you’re not pregnant?”

“Definitely not pregnant. Just off Camembert.”

Cole’s look of relief was expected, but it also seemed like he was feeling guilty.

“It wasn’t your fault, Cole,” I said. “Maybe I shouldn’t have eaten all of it.” I smiled weakly.

“Probably best you did; otherwise, we both would’ve been sick.”

“Well, I bought you some Gatorade to hydrate, also bought you a toothbrush seeing as you’ve been vomiting all night, and the pee tests are there if you want them,” Hunter said, dropping the bag on the bed.

“Thanks. I think.”

“Anything for you, sweets,” he said, leaving the room.

Cole walked over and climbed into bed, lying next to me.

“What’s the time?” I asked, managing to roll over to face him. I still kept a long enough distance so he couldn’t smell my vomit breath, though.

“Eight AM.”

“Do you need me to leave so you can go to work?”

“I called in sick. I’m all yours today.”

“You didn’t have to do—”

“Think you can manage to brush your teeth and take a shower?”

“Maybe.”

He took out some Gatorade from the bag Hunter brought in, uncapping it and handing it to me. “You need to stay hydrated.”

“It’ll probably just come back up again.”

“You have to at least try. And you haven’t thrown up in like four hours, so you might be okay now.”

“I only stopped because I’ve got nothing left.”

“Are you always this big a pain in the ass when you’re sick? If so, that’s definitely going on my list.”

“Accidentally giving me food poisoning is going on mine,” I grumbled.

“So the fact you still need a list means even the worst date in history wasn’t enough to turn you off completely?”

I cracked a smile. “Maybe if you hadn’t looked after me all night, cleaned up my puke, and sent your roommate to buy pregnancy tests, it’d be easier to dismiss you.”

The panicky expression on his face was hilarious. “That was all Hunter with the pregn—”

“I’m screwing with you. I think the whole test thing is hilarious. I don’t know him well yet, but I get the feeling it’s such a Hunter thing to do.”

He joined in on my laughter. “You seem to know him well enough”—he leaned in—“and I like the way you said you don’t know him well,
yet
.”

“Why?” I asked, innocently. I didn’t mean to put the “yet” on at the end.

“Because it means you intend on spending a lot more time here.” He brushed hair off my face with his hand.

I smiled, but knew I’d have horrible breath, so I brought the sheet up to cover my mouth. “I need to clean my teeth.”

He nodded. “You really do. Come on, I’ll help you.”

Cole helped me into the bathroom, where I managed to clean my teeth, but I needed to sit on the closed toilet lid, as I was too dizzy to stand for too long.

When I finished, Cole turned the shower on.

“I don’t think I can stand long enough for a shower.”

“I’ll hold you up.”

A groan escaped me. I really didn’t want to stand.

“I’ll make it worth your while,” he said, waggling his eyebrows at me.

“Do you
want
me to throw up on you again?”

“Oh, ouch, way to wound a man.” He grinned, placing his hand over his heart. “A shower will make you feel better, and I promise to keep my hands … and other body parts in appropriate places.”

“Fine.”

Using the vanity to help push myself up, I stood as Cole came to my side. “Hands up,” he ordered, taking my shirt off. He helped me out of my underwear and into the shower, somehow managing to strip himself in between it all.

Once in the shower, he wrapped his arms around me and just held me. I rested my head on his shoulder and could’ve fallen asleep right there.

The warm water on my back felt amazing after a night of heaving that left my muscles sore and aching.

I don’t know how long we stayed like that for, but eventually he pulled away to wash me.

I wanted to say, “I’m not a complete invalid,” and do it myself, but I was enjoying his hands on me way too much for someone who had food poisoning.

Standing on my tiptoes, I leaned in, brushing his lips with mine. He pulled me close and kissed me back, but it didn’t have enough time to get too heated before he was pulling away.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, Shortcake.”

I let out a sigh. He was right, I was too sick still. That kiss alone left me feeling dizzy and faint.
I nodded. “I think I need to lie back down.”

He turned the shower off with one hand while he still supported me with his other arm. After he towelled us both off, he wrapped my towel around me and led me back to bed, sitting me on the edge. He walked out of the room and came back in moments later with my clothes from yesterday.

“Eww, vomit clothes.”

He laughed. “I washed them last night.”

“You washed my clothes?”

He simply nodded, brushing it off as if it didn’t mean anything. “Did the shower help?”

“It did, actually. I don’t think I’m going to vomit again anytime soon, but I’m still super dizzy.”

“Wanna get dressed and move onto the couch? We’ve got Netflix.”

“Are you sure you’re okay with me staying here? I could go home. I mean—”             

He cut me off by kneeling in front of the bed, placing his body in between my legs. “I want you here.” Touching his lips to mine, he kissed me tenderly, as if he was worried I might crumble under him.

“I …” I started to say when he broke away. Only, I had no idea what I was trying to get out.

“I still don’t know what this is between us. It’s only been two weeks, but I don’t want to stop finding out where this could go. Even with the unfortunate events of our date yesterday, I want you here. If it were up to me, you’d stay the entire week.” He peppered kisses along my neckline.

“I think my clothes would need rewashing before then.”

“We can work something out,” he whispered, kissing my mouth again. It was too brief for my liking. “Come on, let’s get dressed and watch a movie.”

We changed into our clothes and headed out to the living room where Hunter was watching TV. “You’re looking a lot better than earlier.”

“Thanks.”

“Here, lie down,” Cole said, gesturing to the couch. He sat on the opposite end to where I put my head, raising my feet and putting them in his lap. “What do you want to watch?” He started flicking through the options when he stumbled across one that would be perfect.

“That one,
Gale
.”

“
The Hunger Games
? Really?”