Broken Holidays: A Broken Series Novella (The Broken Series) (7 page)

“Are you sure you can handle him?” Nikki asked, eyeing Zane where he leaned against the bar. He was drunk. Very drunk. He’d had more tonight than I’d ever seen him drink when we’d been out, but I couldn’t vouch for the times he’d come home drunk before.

“What do you mean? He’s drunk but he’s still Zane. He’s come home this way enough times for me to know how to take care of it,” I said, shaking my head as I finished restocking the bar. Shannon had let him hang out to wait for me so he wouldn’t have to catch a cab alone. I wasn’t sure he was going to last much longer, though. He was either going to vomit or pass out — possibly both.

“I just meant, if he gets
frisky
,” she purred the word, raising an eyebrow at me. “Can you
handle
him?”

“Oh my God. Would you stop?” I groaned, clearing off the last of the bar. I was so ready to get out of here and away from Nikki’s suggestive comments about the things I could do to take Zane’s mind off missing Conner.

“Seriously, though.” She stopped me, putting a hand on my arm. “People are never more honest than when they’re drunk. If he tries something, keep
that
in mind.”

“Seriously, though,” I repeated, leaning closer to her. “People are usually horny when they’re drunk. Especially when they go out and drink to find a new lay. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Whatever. You really think you’d be able to deny the Hotness Monster, but I know better,” she said as she grabbed her jacket. “Bye, sexy,” she called to Zane, but he didn’t even look up as he waved.

He was staring down at his lap. As I tugged on my jacket and headed toward him, I noticed it was his phone that held his attention. “Ready?” I asked when he didn’t make a move to acknowledge my approach.

“He’s a prick. And she’s a fucking…” he trailed off, still staring at the screen.

“Okay, well, let’s go home and you can sleep,” I said, grabbing his elbow to steady him as he swayed. “Come on, I’ll get us a cab.”

“I drove.”

Pausing us as we walked toward the door, I turned to face him. “You drove? Seriously? You knew you were going to be drinking.”

“I didn’t realize I was going to drink
this
much,” he laughed through the words. Whether it was at the fact that he was drunk or at my pissed off expression, I didn’t know.

“Where are the keys?” I asked, sighing as I patted his jacket pockets. He started to tip to the side as he fumbled toward his jeans. “Whoa. Easy. Here.” I reached in his pocket, avoiding his eyes as I slid my hand in and wrapped it around the metal of the keys.

“Careful, or I might think you want more than just to give me a ride home,” he joked. I steeled myself against the embarrassment that wanted to rise with his words. It wasn’t something that happened often, but his suggestive jokes that came out when he was drinking made it feel like I was transparent in my inability to get completely past my feelings for him.

“Right. Keep dreaming,” I muttered, helping him as we made our way out to the parking lot behind the bar.

With him being so much taller than me, it was a chore to get him settled in the passenger seat. “Are you going to puke?” I asked, noticing he looked a little pained while I leaned across him to buckle his seatbelt. He shook his head slowly so I snapped it in place.

“Hey,” I said when I looked up and saw his eyes closed. “If you pass out in the car, I’m leaving you in here. I can’t move your sorry ass alone.” He nodded, but didn’t respond. As I walked around to the driver’s side, I started wondering if Tish was still awake. I was just thinking about calling him as I climbed in and started the engine. A groan from Zane brought my attention back to him.

“Fuck,” I said, jumping from the car and running back around to his side. I threw open the passenger door and pulled off his seatbelt, but I wasn’t fast enough. As I grabbed his shoulders to heave him over, he lost it. I lifted my chin, not daring to look down as vomit hit the ground between us. I could feel it splashing my legs and I wanted to move, but I was the only thing between him and face planting on the pavement.

“I’m sorry,” he groaned and I looked down, thinking he was done. No such luck. I turned my head, trying to hold my breath as I waited him out, my arms shaking from holding his weight.

When he finally finished, I lifted him carefully back into the seat. I would’ve been grateful that he didn’t make a huge mess on himself, if he hadn’t made one on me. I watched him for a moment before buckling him in. His eyes were closed as he took heavy breaths. I wasn’t sure if he was asleep or not, but for now, I didn’t care. Once I shut the door, I moved around to pop the trunk. Luckily, I knew he at least kept a blanket back there.

Examining myself in the light from the trunk, I gagged. I’d hoped he’d just splashed me a little but that was not the case. My skirt, tights, and boots were covered. “Mother fuck. So fucking gross.” I dug in the trunk, finding a blanket and an empty plastic bag. I glanced around the parking lot as I kicked off my boots. I stuffed them in the bottom of the bag and determined that Zane would be cleaning them tomorrow. Then, I wrapped the blanket high around my chest and wiggled out of my skirt and tights. It took a little time and a lot of dexterity, but once I was free of them, I stuffed them in the bag and left it in the trunk. No use in making the rest of his car smell worse.

I unwrapped the blanket as I slipped behind the wheel. Carefully, I adjusted it over my lap to cover the fact that I didn’t have anything but a pair of boy shorts covering the bottom half of my body. As I went to scoot the seat up, I noticed Zane’s eyes were open. He was watching me and I hadn’t even paid attention. I lifted my chin and moved the seat so I could reach the pedals. I hated driving, especially in Vegas, but at least it was late and I knew the roads well enough that I got away from the Strip easily.

“I’m sorry,” Zane whispered again, but I didn’t look over at him as I turned into the neighborhood.

“It’s fine. You can make it up to me by washing the puke off my boots tomorrow when you’re feeling better.”

He chuckled but it was almost a pained sound. “Deal.” I risked a look over at him. He didn’t seem distressed, so I didn’t think he was going to vomit again.

Pulling into the driveway, I felt relieved that he was awake. Tish wasn’t home, which probably meant he was staying with Kas. While Zane still needed help, he hadn’t passed out. I took that as a plus. I could at least get him inside, maybe even get him cleaned up some. Getting out of the car, I did my best to wrap the blanket around me but I could feel his eyes on my bright pink undies. It was awkward trying to hold the blanket and keep him upright, but I managed somehow. He leaned against the wall on the porch while I pulled out my key and unlocked the front door. Helping him inside, I headed toward the bathroom.

“You should get cleaned up first,” he said, frowning. “I’ll wait.”

I stared at him for a moment, unsure as to whether he could wait. He was a little steadier on his feet, thankfully. “Are you sure?”

He nodded back toward the wall next to the door. “I’ll sit right here.” He started lowering himself and I had no choice but to help him ease down.

“Okay, I’ll leave the door unlocked in case you need me. I’ll be right back,” I said, rushing down to my room to grab my pajamas. He was still sitting in the same place, head leaning back against the wall when I came out. He opened one eye as I passed him but didn’t say anything, so I slipped into the bathroom to shower.

Normally, I would’ve just changed, but a shower was definitely in order. I rushed through, making sure to scrub my legs and feet. Even though I’d been wearing boots and tights, I still felt disgusting. Once I was done, I threw my hair up in a loose bun and pulled my pajamas on, immediately opening the door to check on him. He was already staggering to his feet.

“Whoa, easy,” I said, moving over to help him. He kept me at arm’s length.

“Stay back. You’re clean. I can do this.” He started toward the bathroom and I stayed close, just in case. He shrugged out of his jacket, leaving it in a heap on the floor in the hall. Once he closed the bathroom door, I picked it up. It smelled vile so I headed to the laundry room. I checked the pockets before tossing it in the washer, deciding I’d wash a load of our clothes so they didn’t sit around and stink all night.

I grabbed Zane’s keys from where I’d laid them on the table before heading back out to his car. The bag of clothes from the trunk reeked already. I thought about coming out later to spray some Febreze and possibly drop an air freshener or two in there. As I walked back inside, I heard the shower running in the bathroom. I closed my eyes and opened the door just a crack.

“Hey, I’m gonna grab your dirty clothes. Is it safe?”

“Yeah,” he said, his voice ragged.

I pushed open the door enough to peek at the mirror and saw that the shower curtain was, in fact, drawn before I headed inside. I gathered his scattered clothes and looked behind me, realizing I’d left mine in a small pile by the door. My bra and underwear sitting on top like a beacon had me wanting to beat my head into the wall. Usually, I never left my clothes in the bathroom, but I’d been worried about leaving him in the hall.

“You good?” I asked as I headed back to the door.

“Yeah.”

I loaded the rest of the clothes into the washer and closed it, deciding to wait until he was done in the shower before I actually turned it on. I went to the kitchen, wanting to start some coffee in case he needed to try to sober up before he went to bed. I was just pushing the button when a loud thump sounded from the bathroom. I ran down the hall, bursting through the door to the steam built up from the hot water.

“Zane?” I asked as I headed toward the curtain, afraid he’d passed out and possibly hurt himself.

“Help. I’ve fallen and I can’t get up,” he laughed at his own joke and I heard struggling on the other side of the curtain.

“Fuck,” I grumbled, looking up at the ceiling as I shoved the curtain aside. There was no way around this tonight, apparently. I checked to make sure he didn’t have shampoo or soap still on him before shutting off the water and grabbing a towel.

Patiently, I helped him up and back out of the shower, tossing an extra towel on the lid to the toilet so I could sit him down. He held the towel over his lap while I looked around, realizing he hadn’t grabbed his pajama pants before coming into the bathroom.

“Let’s dry you off some and get you to bed, okay?” I asked, pulling down the last towel in the cabinet. I started scrubbing at his shaggy hair, drying it so it would quit dripping before moving to his chest. His eyes watched me but he didn’t say a word.

I knelt down on the floor, drying his legs and the puddles he’d made when I’d helped him out. Tossing the towel on the tile to cover the worst of it, I noticed his toothbrush on the floor of the tub. That was probably what he’d bent over to get when he fell. I picked it up, deciding immediately to toss it. It was weird that he brushed his teeth in the shower anyway.

Turning, I bumped into his legs, not realizing that he shifted his position to watch me. I staggered for a second, grabbing his shoulder to keep my balance. “Sorry.”

He stared at me for a moment, his eyes glassy with the residual alcohol, but the expression on his face more peaceful than it had been earlier today. With the way he slouched forward, I was just barely taller than him. It made me want to dip down to my knees to look into his eyes again when he glanced at the floor. “Why are you so good to me? I don’t deserve it, you know.”

I frowned. “I’m just—”

He cut my words off by lifting his head, his lips finding mine. The kiss was frantic, almost desperate, but somehow, impossibly, still just as peaceful as the look in his eyes. It took a second, maybe two, or three, before I stepped back, breaking the connection. I could taste mint but he still reeked of liquor and…and what? I couldn’t think. I just stared.

He stared back.

Finally, after hours, or possibly just a minute, he blinked and struggled to reopen his eyes. “I need to lie down.”

“Okay,” I said carefully, stepping forward to help him up. He had one arm around my shoulders and the other holding the towel around his waist as best as he could. I appreciated the gesture, as my entire body thrummed with adrenaline after the kiss.

Once we were in his room, I grabbed his pajama pants and helped him step into them, turning my back to allow him privacy to pull them on. Once he was done, I grabbed the towel, glancing back as he fell against his pillows. I scooted him carefully, helping him under the covers as he blinked groggily.