“Breathe, Charlotte. I don’t need you puking on me. This is cashmere.”
Keeping my eyes shut, I inhale slowly through my nose, and my senses are immediately overwhelmed with… Noah. The faint scent of leather from the jacket I’m pressed against and an expensive, crisp-smelling cologne.
“You smell good,” I mumble. Noah’s chest rumbles with laughter, and my cheeks get hot. Son of a bitch. Did I say that out loud?
I keep my mouth shut until we get to my suite. With Noah’s help, I manage to get the keycard out and open the door just as another wave of nausea crashes through me. I sprint to the bathroom and slip on the tile floor, thanks to these stupid heels. My knees take the brunt of the fall, but the pain barely registers as I lean over and vomit into the toilet.
“Fucking hell, Charlotte,” Noah mutters from behind me, holding my hair back again. I stiffen for a moment when he starts rubbing my back, but the motion is comforting, and so unlike anything I would expect from the vampire.
“You don’t have to be here,” I manage as I’m heaving what has to be the last of my stomach contents into the porcelain bowl.
“What kind of vampire would I be if I left you like this?”
I flush the toilet. “It’s my own fault.”
“You drank too much,” he says, his knuckles brushing the back of my neck, sending shivers down my spine. “Doesn’t mean you should have to suffer the consequences alone.”
I laugh, then cringe when the vibration stings my throat. “Doesn’t mean you should have to face them with me.”
“I’ve seen worse.” Noah stops rubbing my back. “Think you’re finished?”
I sigh. My entire body aches. “For now.”
“Okay. Let’s get you off the floor and into the shower.”
My heart rattles in my chest. Before I can argue, Noah reaches down, pulls my heels off, and tosses them toward the trash bin. He stands and holds both of his hands down to me. “I figured that’s where they’d end up anyway.”
Pressing my lips together, I let him haul me up off the floor. I sway a little, feeling light-headed, but Noah steadies me. “Honestly, I don’t think I have the energy to shower.”
The vampire’s brilliant green eyes flick between mine, and he nods, leaning over to dampen a cloth before wiping the paint off my skin. “Do you have a change of clothes?” he asks now, tossing the paint-stained cloth onto the counter.
“In the other room,” I answer as I reach for the mini bottle of mouthwash on the counter. I unscrew the lid and take a swig, swishing it around my mouth before spitting into the sink.
Once I’m finished, Noah helps me out of the bathroom and to the dresser, where I blearily flip through my options. I eventually pull out the NEW VE UNIVERSITY sweater. It’s too big, which makes it perfect to sleep in.
I turn around, putting my back to Noah. “Will you help me with the zipper?”
Silently, he steps closer and slides it down, his fingers brushing my bare skin—the dress was too tight to wear a bra comfortably, so I went without. When he’s done, I step away, unnerved by the feel of his cool breath. With my back still turned, I shimmy out of the dress before tugging the sweater over my head.
Noah gently pulls my hair out from the sweater before I turn to face him. “Better?” he asks.
I nod, then watch him silently for a few beats. “Why are you being so nice to me?”
Those annoyingly kissable lips curl into a devilish grin. “I’m betting on you passing out and forgetting all of this.”
“Typical,” I mutter, shuffling toward the bed. I crawl under the covers, still a bit too drunk to care that Noah Forrest is in my suite.
He walks over to the minibar and pulls something out, then approaches the bed. He sets a bottle of water on the nightstand. “Stay hydrated. You should also visit the feeder suite in the morning. However shitty you’re feeling now, you’ll probably feel worse tomorrow.”
I groan into the pillow. When I turn back over, Noah is gazing down at me, his features soft and his eyes gentle. I almost hope I do remember this tomorrow, I think. But within the minute, sleep calls like a water nymph, guiding me toward it, and I go willingly. Just before I sink into its embrace, I hear myself release a long sigh. “Why couldn’t he love me?” I murmur.
“Who? The puppy?” Noah’s voice asks. It surprises me—I thought he’d left.
With my eyes still closed, I shake my head. “My father.”
Silence settles throughout the room. For once, I don’t care, and I’m nearly asleep when Noah says, “Because he’s a fool, Charlotte.”
Then comes the sound of the door, clicking gently shut behind him.
Just before I slip away from this world, I wonder who’s the bigger fool—me or the Vampire King.
Because I don’t think I hate Noah Forrest anymore.
Chapter Two
I wake with a splitting headache.
Wincing, I reach for the clock on the nightstand and pry my eyes open wide enough to read the red numbers. It’s just after two in the afternoon. Still daylight, then. I flop back, groaning at the pressure behind my eyes. I haven’t drank that much alcohol in… I’m not sure if I’ve ever had that much. Well, at least not that I remember.
Suddenly the keypad on the door clicks. Before I have a chance to panic, Noah walks in with a covered tray.
“What are you doing here?” I blurt, clutching the thick duvet to my chest. My heart races with panic. By the blood. Did I share a hotel room with Noah last night? There’s no way I was that drunk.
“First of all, relax,” he says. “I can see those wheels turning, and no, we didn’t do whatever it is you’re so terrified to consider. I’m a little insulted you think I would do anything with someone so theatrically inebriated.”
I blink at him. “Then why—”
“You didn’t show up for work. I called the boardinghouse and found out you were here.”
Someone at Ada’s knows I’m here? How? My eyes narrow, which makes my head throb, so I squeeze my eyes shut. Bad choice. Visions of last night come rushing back, and I have to swallow the bile that comes with them.
“You’re a liar. You were here last night,” I tell Noah, remembering the way he held my hair. “You took care of me.”
Instead of responding, Noah pulls the lid off the tray. Steam billows off a pile of scrambled eggs and seasoned potatoes. My stomach grumbles in response. There’s no hiding it—the sound practically echoes in the suite. “Once you have some food in your stomach, you should visit the feeder suite,” Noah adds as he straightens.
I pull the tray closer, then snatch up the fork to stab a potato. “Did you eat?”
Noah walks over to the corner of the room and drops into a wingback chair. “No. I don’t typically eat in the middle of the day, considering I’m usually asleep.”
“You don’t have to stay,” I tell him, my cheeks heating as I remember what he witnessed last night. What he heard. “I appreciate what you did for me, but you don’t need to babysit anymore.”
“It’s not a big deal. I had to make sure my partner didn’t get herself killed.”