Rush: Part One & Two (The Pitstop Series Book 3)

I wake up with the worst headache of my life. I sit up in bed and rub my temples but have to run to the bathroom before my consciousness can catch up. I throw up until there’s nothing left in my stomach. A big hand wraps around my arm, and I look up to find Adrian helping me. He sits me down on the rim of the bathtub, and I try to stop the floor from spinning.

“What happened last night?” I ask him. “All I remember is walking into the club, but that’s it. I can’t remember anything past that,” I admit and drop my head into my hands. With all the strength in my mind, I’m trying to figure out what the hell happened, but I got nothing.

“You had a million shots, and then you disappeared with James. I found him passed out on the chair in my room this morning. I don’t know how he got there, but he seems to be in a lot of pain as well.” I nod and try to figure out what James and I did when we returned to the hotel room last night. Adrian puts a cold, wet towel against my forehead, and I already feel better. “Now that you have experienced how terrible it is to be hungover, can you promise me not to put yourself into this state again? I don’t like seeing you this way,” he says, and I nod.

“Never again. I can’t remember anything from last night, and it’s killing me,” I tell him and laugh a little, only to flinch when pain shoots through my head. It’s throbbing, aching, and I feel like I’m going to pass out.

Adrian helps me back into bed, and I fall asleep again. An hour later, I wake up and see Adrian is gone, but I also find James sitting on my bed, watching me sleep. I shoot up and realize the headache has gotten less painful. James lifts his hand to touch my cheek softly. I cock an eyebrow, surprised by the affectionate gesture, but focus quickly enough.Text © owned by NôvelDrama.Org.

“Thank God you’re here. What the hell happened last night?” I ask, and he drops his hand from my face. His expression briefly changes to disappointment but then goes back to a neutral one.

“You don’t remember anything?” I shake my head and wait for him to tell me what we did. James rubs his face with his right hand before he looks at me again. “We came back here, watched a movie, and ate chocolate, then you fell asleep,” he informs me, but I’m still confused.

“Why did you leave? You could have slept in my bed. It’s not like we didn’t sleep together before,” I say, confused, and he nods. He’s acting so strangely! Maybe something awkward happened? I wish he would just tell me!

“Yeah, I know.” He shrugs and drops down onto my bed. “I’m sorry about last night, luv. I should have never let you drink so much,” he admits, and I can see he feels guilty. I take his hand to comfort him, and he briefly pulls it away before letting me take it. So strange…

Of course he would feel bad for getting me drunk and blame himself for the pain I’m feeling today. However, if I point out that it was my choice, he’ll tell me he’s older and should have been more mature. I didn’t see my brother jumping between me and the glass at any point during the night either. Then again, Adrian always wants me to make my own mistakes so I can learn from them. I remove the blanket from my body and lie down next to him on the bed. I retake his hand and intertwine our fingers.

“I’m sorry about getting so drunk last night, but I’m very thankful you got me into my bed and that I was safe and sound. You’re an amazing friend,” I say and lie on my side. My hand is still in his, and he turns his head to look at me.

“You don’t remember anything?” he asks me again, and I shake my head.

“No, should I remember something?” Panic washes over me, and I’m scared I did or said something I shouldn’t have. Maybe I said something about Gabriel? Did I say something to Gabriel? Fuck, fuck, fuck. I probably did, and it was most likely beyond embarrassing.

“No, babe, there’s nothing you need to remember. I was just curious,” he assures me and squeezes my hand. He puts it on his chest, and I feel his heart pump quickly against his ribcage. There is a sad expression on his face, which makes me frown.

“Are you sure there is nothing at all? I feel like you’re not telling me something,” I mumble, and James stares intensely at the ceiling. He’s quiet for a couple of seconds before he answers my question.

“I don’t remember too much either.” His voice is quiet, and his hand is holding mine tightly. It is as if he is scared to let go for some reason. It worries me, but he isn’t going to tell me what is bothering him.

James and I talk a bit about the symptoms of our hangovers, and I start to laugh when he tells me he dreamt the room was spinning, but once he woke up, he realized it was still turning.

A couple of hours later, someone knocks on the door, and I get up to reveal Gabriel on the other side of it. As soon as I look into his eyes, I remember the dream I had last night, that vivid dream of Gabriel and me. I still remember the way he touched me, the way his tongue massaged mine, and the way he unbuttoned my pants before he pleasured me. As I recall it, I could swear it happened, but I know better than that. Gabriel would never actually touch me like that.

“Valentina, can we talk?” Gabriel asks me in French, and my heart flutters. He never speaks to me in French. I step out into the hall and feel his hand on the small of my back, pushing me gently further. “We need to talk about what happened last night on the dance floor,” he says, smoothly switching back into English. I welcome back his beautiful accent, but I’m also concerned about what happened between us last night.

“Why, what the hell happened?” I ask and start to pull on his sleeve. His eyes drop to where I am grabbing him before they lift to my face again. “Sorry,” I mumble and remove my hand from his shirt.

“You don’t remember?” There is a surprised expression on his face, and I sit down against the wall out of frustration. My head drops into my hands, and I sigh.

“No. I’ve been trying for hours, but nothing.” Gabriel drops down next to me. “I feel terrible, and now I’m sure I said something stupid to you. I’m so sorry for whatever it was,” I tell him, still incredibly frustrated with myself. I look away and hide the embarrassed flush on my cheeks. Gabriel’s hand finds its way onto my thigh, and he squeezes gently, sending a shiver down my spine.

“No, you didn’t say anything. It was me. I said something inappropriate, and I am glad you can’t remember it, I have to admit.” He lets out a sweet, soft laugh, and I wonder yet again what he said to me. “If you do remember it later, just know I’m sorry.” I shake my head and stare at the wall on the opposite side of us. We’re all embarrassed about things that happened or didn’t last night, and I don’t want to push it. Although, questions like: What could it possibly be? Why are they so secretive? Should I just be letting this go? and Why am I just okay with this? are roaming around in my head.

Gabriel takes my face in his hand and presses a sweet kiss onto my cheek before getting up and holding his hand out for me. I take it, and he pulls me up aggressively, slamming me against his chest. His laugh is deep, sexy, and it vibrates through my whole body as he holds me close for a few seconds longer. His breath is hot against my skin, and I have to pull away to find the ground under my feet again. My feelings are stronger than ever, especially after that dream, and I don’t know what to do about them. Then again, I never have.