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Kellan must sense it, because without my asking, he bends down and slips my shoes off, placing them gently on the floor, then peels back the covers and holds them up for me to slide under.
“I’ll grab your makeup wipes. I know you hate sleeping with makeup on,” he says, heading into the bathroom where my toiletry bag is sitting. I do hate that; it makes me break out.
My eyelids are already drooping as I peel off my shirt and skirt. I can’t wait to hit the pillow, but I remember sitting on the disgusting bathroom floor, and even drunk, I know I don’t want to dirty up my precious sheets.
Rolling off the bed, I land on the floor with a loud thud in nothing but my bra and thong, but the lump of blankets on Lori’s bed doesn’t move.
“Are you okay?” Kellan whispers as he rushes out of the bathroom and helps me up. “What are you doing?”
“I want a shower,” I whisper, but my voice still sounds too loud.
“Do you need help?” he asks, his cheeks flushed. “Not in the shower or anything. I won’t look. I just meant . . . I don’t know.
Not in a creepy way or anything,” he stutters, which is so unlike Kellan’s usual confidence it makes me stare up at him in wonder.
I don’t need him to help me anymore. I’m perfectly capable of handling a shower. He’s already helped me more than I ever expected him to, especially after the way I’ve been acting. My heart jumps to my throat as I gaze into his warm eyes. He isn’t even looking at me with pity or anger or disgust.
“I’ll be okay,” I tell him, walking toward the door with him right behind me. “Thanks for your help, Kell. I really appreciate it.”
He nods as I hold the door open for him. “Make sure you take some Advil in the morning if you have a headache.”
I bite my lip, nervous. “Okay. Thanks Kellan.”
He shoots me one last look before leaving my room and heading down the hall to his own.
My shower is quick and I’m more refreshed, but I’m still exhausted as I slip into bed with wet hair. Kellan cares about me. I know he does. I’ve been playing this all wrong. All I need is a good night’s rest, water, and some time for the shame to fade, then I can approach this situation with a whole new perspective. Maybe Kellan’s not lost to me. Maybe I have time to fix everything I’ve been fucking up. When I wake up tomorrow, it’ll be day four of this trip, and day one of Operation: Stop-Looking-and-Acting-Like-a-Jackass.
FIFTEEN
Day Four of Cuba
Faye
I expect to be at least slightly hungover when I crack open my eyes in the morning, but I’m perfectly fine, almost like nothing ever happened.
If only that were the case.
Lori’s not in the room, and a quick glance at my phone reveals it’s nine a.m. She must have gone for breakfast and not wanted to wake me. I wonder if everyone’s telling her what a sloppy mess I was.
Not today, Faye. Today’s the day we turn everything around.
I’m almost glad I hit rock bottom last night. It allowed me to realize what I’m doing wrong and how to fix it, and Iamgoing to fix it.
I take another shower, this time doing a better job than I probably did last night. When I emerge in a towel, Lori is walking into the room.
“Hey! Where’s your moisturizer? The coconut one I like.
I swear it was right here yesterday,” I ask her, pointing to the nightstand. I hope I didn’t throw it somewhere last night.
She freezes for a second, then her shoulders slump and she unzips her luggage, pulling out the container and tossing it to me.
“Thanks. How was breakfast?”
“Fine,” she says curtly with her back to me, pulling a swimsuit out of her luggage. “Kiara told me you had a fun time last night.”
I scoff.I’m sure Kiara told herlotsof things about me.“About as fun as having your teeth pulled. Where did you go?”
“Left early.” She enters the bathroom and all but slams the door closed.
