Victorious (23 page)

I reach under my dress and remove my panties and step into the thong. The string settles between my cheeks, which I normally don’t like, but after having worn a plug for hours, the thong doesn’t bother me as much as it used to. I finish getting ready and load the clutch Tenley said would go perfectly with the black dress. I take my phone, tampons (just in case) and lipstick.

 
The cramps have continued unabated all day, but so far there’s been no sign of my period. Perhaps the birth control shot is throwing off my cycle. In the mail that Addie had delivered was a report on my test results, all of which were negative. I’m perfectly healthy, except for the cramps and an odd buzzing in my head that began during the luncheon. I send off a text to Doctor Breslow, asking if my period might be affected by the birth control shot.

She writes right back saying that it’s possible I won’t have periods at all during the next three months, which is good to know.

I thank her for the info and finish getting ready.

Tonight’s event is at Spago, and we’re driven to the iconic Beverly Hills restaurant by the security detail. Photographers pounce the second we emerge from the car, but Flynn keeps a protective arm around me. Cameras record every second of our walk into the restaurant.
 

Many of the same people who were at the luncheon are at this party, and we make the rounds. Flynn gets me a glass of chardonnay and the passed hors d’oeuvres are delicious. But the more I eat and drink, the queasier I become. I’m also overheating.

We’re talking to Flynn’s partners, Jasper and Kristian, and I’m about to ask him if we can find a place to sit when my panties begin to buzz. I manage to suppress a gasp, take hold of his arm and try to stay focused on the conversation despite the vibrator pressed tight against my clit. I’m going to kill him for this.

“Are you okay, Natalie?” Jasper asks in a crisp British accent.

“I’m… It’s a little warm in here. Maybe we could sit?”

“Of course, sweetheart.” Flynn guides me to a booth. When we’re seated, he leans in close to me. “Are you okay?”

“I feel weird—and not good weird.”

The buzzing stops immediately. “Define weird.”

“I don’t know. My head feels funny, I’ve had cramps all day, and now I feel sweaty, too.”

He leans in to kiss my forehead. “Holy crap, Nat. You’re burning up. Let’s get you out of here.”

“No! We don’t have to go. This is important to you.”

“The hell it is. We just had lunch with all these same people.”

“I don’t want to ruin your evening.”

“You’re not. I’m just sad it wasn’t the panties making you flush.” He smiles and winks and gets me out of there with the greatest of finesse. We leave through a different door than the one we came in and manage to escape the notice of the paparazzi on the way out, which is a relief. I can only imagine what they’d have to say about us leaving so soon after we arrived.

“Do you want to go home or back to the hotel?”

“We have to go to the hotel. Fluff is there.”

“I could have her brought home if you’d rather be there.”

“The hotel is fine.” I need a bed, and that one is closer. He holds me for the short ride back to the hotel. In the few minutes it takes to ride the elevator to our top-floor suite, I feel a hundred times worse. “Flynn…”

“What, honey?”

“I think I’m sick.”

“I’ll send for a doctor. Don’t worry about anything. It’s probably just a bug.”

“Don’t want you to get it.”

“Don’t worry about me, sweetheart. I never get sick.”

In the bedroom, Flynn gets me undressed and removes the panties. “We’ll save these for another time,” he says, tucking them into his suit coat pocket. He helps me into a regular pair of panties and pulls a T-shirt of his over my head. “Lie back and rest. I’ll see if they can get us a doctor.”

“Sorry.”
 

“Don’t be sorry. I’d so much rather be alone with you than in a room full of people, but I’m sorry you don’t feel well. We’ll get you fixed right up.” He kisses my forehead and goes into the other room to use the house phone. I fall asleep to the low rumble of his voice on the phone calling for help.

Chapter 12

I’m so hot. I have to be on fire. And then I’m freezing, my teeth chattering from the chills that torture me. Flynn pulls my hair back while I puke into what might be an ice bucket that he holds for me. My throat hurts too much to ask him what’s wrong with me. Whatever it is, I’ve never felt this bad in my life.

All I can do is sleep when I’m not puking.

Fluff is there, too, whimpering, but it takes more energy than I have to comfort her. I hear Flynn telling her that Mommy is sick. I’ll have to thank him for that when I can. He’s nice to her even after she bit him—again. I love him for that.

I fall back into a restless sleep filled with dreams about things I’d rather forget. I’m at the governor’s mansion, and Oren is there. He’s attacking me, hurting me. I’m screaming and crying and telling him to stop. I beg him to stop, but he doesn’t. Then Flynn’s mother is there, telling me it’ll be okay, that they’re taking care of me.

But Oren pushes her away and tells her to get out before he hurts her, too. I want to protect Stella, but I can’t move. My arms and legs are like lead pipes, refusing to follow my orders.
 

“Natalie.” Flynn’s voice breaks through the sound of my own screams. “Sweetheart, wake up. You’re dreaming.”

My eyelids seem to weigh a ton. I force my eyes open. He looks terrible. His hair is standing on end and his eyes are wild, as if he’s been awake for days.
 

“You were dreaming,” he says, wiping tears from my face. He kisses my forehead and both cheeks. “Do you think you can drink some water?”

I’m desperately thirsty, so I nod. Just that small movement sets off a painful blast in my skull that has me gasping.

He brings me a glass of ice water with a straw that he holds for me.

The cold water is like heaven to my parched throat, but it lands with a gurgle in my empty stomach. “What’s wrong?” I ask him.

“You’ve got the flu.”

“Your mom…”

“She was here to check on you yesterday.”

“Yesterday?”

“It’s been two days, Nat. You’ve been totally out of it. We came very close to taking you to the hospital, but the doctor came here to check on you so we wouldn’t end up in the news again.”

“Two days.”

“Two very long days.”

“Have you slept at all?”

“Not much. I was too freaked out to sleep.”

I want to reach up to touch his tired face, but my arms won’t cooperate. “So sorry to freak you out. And to puke all over you.”

He cracks the faintest of smiles. “You didn’t do that. Came close a few times.”

“Ugh, how sexy.” The thought of nearly puking on him makes me feel worse than I already do. “Sorry.”

“You think I care about that, Nat? God, I was so scared that something was seriously wrong with you and everyone was missing it. I was afraid to sleep, that I would wake up and you’d be… Well, I was scared.”

“I know I must smell gross and I’m probably communicable, but will you please get in bed with me and hold me?”

“I’d be very happy to do that.” He gets up to go around the bed and gets in with me.

I turn away from him because I don’t want to infect him any more than I already have.
 

“You don’t smell gross. I got to give you a sponge bath yesterday. We enjoyed that very much.”

“We?”

“You and me.”

“So you took full advantage of my feverish state to get handsy with me?”

“You know it.”

His arms around me are exactly what I need. With my head cushioned on his arm and the heat of his body warming me, I begin to feel the slightest bit better. And then I remember… I was expecting my period when I got sick. “Flynn…”

“What, honey?”

“I know we just got settled, but I could use the bathroom.”

“No worries.” He gets up, comes around to lift me right out of bed and carries me into the bathroom. “Take it easy. You’re going to be really weak and wobbly.”

I grasp the sink, hoping to stop the world from spinning. “I’m okay if you want to give me a minute.”

“You can pee in front of me, Nat.”

“I don’t think I can, actually.”

“I’m afraid to leave you.”

“I’ll hold on. I promise.”

“Call me if you need help.”

“I will.”
 

As soon as the door clicks shut behind him, I get busy checking what’s going on below. Nothing. I’m beyond thankful he didn’t have to deal with that on top of the puking and the rest.

I immediately regret a quick glance in the mirror. I use the last of my dwindling strength to brush my hair and teeth before I call for Flynn to give me a lift back to bed.

“Do you think you could eat something?”

“I don’t know. Maybe some soup. Later. First I just want to close my eyes for a minute while you hold me.”

“We can do that.”

The next time I open my eyes, sunshine fills the room and I’m alone in bed. I experiment with moving my arms and legs, which seems easier than it was the last time I was awake. My headache seems a bit better, too. I attempt to sit up and have to take a moment before the spinning stops.

Flynn comes into the room wearing a pair of basketball shorts and those sexy glasses that make him look so smart. His hair is standing straight up and he hasn’t shaved in days, but he still makes my heart beat a little faster just by walking into the room with Fluff hot on his heels.

“You look better.”

“I feel a little better.”

“Thank goodness. How about some food?”

“That actually sounds good.”

“Progress, Fluff. I told you Mommy would feel better soon.”

“You guys are getting along okay?”

“We’re living proof that you
can
teach an old dog new tricks. She’s learned not to bite the hand that feeds her.”

My heart melts at the adoring gaze Fluff directs his way. “Glad to see something good came out of me getting stricken with the plague.”

“I also got a ton of work done, and I’m all caught up, which makes Hayden very, very happy.”

“Oh good.”

“Not good. I never want to see you that sick again—ever.”

“Let’s hope it was a one-time thing.”

“The doc says you have to take it really easy for a week to ten days, so I canceled the trip to London.”

“No! You have to go! I’ll stay home while you go.”

“Absolutely not. I’m not going anywhere without you.”

“But you’re going to
win
!”

“I can’t believe you just said that out loud.”

“This is no time for your superstitions.”

“Natalie…”

“You have to go.”

“I’m not going without you, and you can’t go. That’s the end of it.”

I recognize defeat when I see it. Sighing, I say, “I was really looking forward to going to London.”