Page 20 of Seein’ Red

WILLA

I don’t know what kind of showerhead this is, but I need it.

Like, I’m considering ripping it out of the wall and paying for the damages need it.

Throwing my head back, I let the gentle pulse of water from the miracle showerhead hit my face, enjoying the scalding hot water. I’ll probably look like a lobster when I get out, my skin as bright as a fire truck, but I don’t care. It’s the only thing that is making me feel remotely human right now.

I allow myself a few more minutes of indulgence and then cut the water. The hotel’s pipes clang, steam swirling in the air, as I open the glass shower door and step out. The whole bathroom is hazy from the steam, the mirror completely fogged, cocooning me in the same warmth as the shower just had. Which is comforting for about six seconds.

My stomach lurches, that rancid feeling rising in me, making me want to retch. I catapult forward, head hanging over the sink, gagging. Nothing comes up, but my insides pulse, right along with the dullness in my head.

Ugh, fucking hangovers…

At least, I think it’s a hangover. It’s the only thing I can think of that would leave me feeling like this.

Except, I only had the one drink—the signature shot at the beginning of dinner. I’d opted to go easy since my stomach was still screwy from chugging that beer on Friday. That one little shot shouldn't have been enough to knock me on my ass. Or leave me feeling like I’d been hit by a train the next morning.

Must have been one hell of a drink.

The nausea returns, this time accompanied by stomach acid. The wretched taste fills my mouth, making me gag more, and all I can think is how I’m going to have to brush my teeth again so that I can get rid of it.

It takes another few minutes, but it finally stops. Grabbing my toothbrush again, I set to it, needing to get a move on. We’re meeting the boys for brunch in a few minutes, and the last thing I want to do is look like I’m fresh off the walk of shame.

Because I’m not.

Despite all the encouragement from my friends, I left Link at Bunz, his phone number tucked into my back pocket—“just in case”—and came back to the hotel with the girls, where we curled up in our pajamas and watched all our favorite rom-coms. An old-fashioned slumber party, just like when we were younger, complete with sugar highs, whispered secrets, and boy talk.

Boy talk is just a little dirtier these days.

Okay, a lot dirtier.

“Hey, Will…” Kenzie says, sliding the barn style bathroom door open. All the warm, steamy air escapes, replaced by something much cooler, a chill wrapping around me. I shiver, turning to look at my best friend. “You look like you got a sunburn.”

“I like my showers hot; you know that.”

Kenzie half shrugs with one shoulder, acknowledging my point. “Noel just texted Bronwyn that they’re running late, so no need to rush.”

Oh, thank God…

"The boys have too much fun last night?”

“Knowing them, it’s because they’re still in the middle of a game of Monopoly and no one will concede,” she jokes. “And I can’t wait to hear what excuse they use to avoid admitting that they still play board games.”

“There are worse vices for your rock star husband to have,” I tell her.

“He’s not my husband yet. Six days.”

Another wave hits me and I brace myself against the counter, closing my eyes as I wait for it to pass.

“I’m rounding up,” I reply, opening my eyes once the wave passes. “Kenz, you feelin’ okay this morning?”

Tilting her head in confusion, Kenzie steps into the bathroom and leans her butt against the counter next to me.

“I feel fabulous. A full day of spa treatments, followed by a great dinner, and then a relaxing night hanging out with my best friends in a massive luxury suite—complete with balcony and fire pit—what else would I be feeling?”

Okay then, this nonsense is just me. Great.

“Just want to make sure that you’re enjoying your weekend.”