Bailed Out (The Anna Albertini Files #2) - Rebecca Zanetti Page 0,22

overlooking Bear Bay. A warning ticked in the back of my head, but it didn’t make sense, so I ignored it.

Then I strode up the stairs and knocked on the first door.

The door opened almost instantly, and Nick Basanelli stood there in a tank top with jogging shorts. A military tattoo spread across his left bicep. His chest was broad, his muscles corded, and his legs very nice for a man.

So I leaned up right into him and pressed my lips to his. The world spun. Gasping, I stumbled back, turned, and puked right into his potted hydrangeas by the door.

To his credit, Nick tangled his hand in my hair and held it back from the flowing chocolate. No hesitation, no surprise—just full on helping me out like he’d been expecting me to show up, try to kiss him, and throw up. When I was finished, he lifted me, turning and kicking the door shut behind us.

His hold was solid as he moved into the living room and then the kitchen to place me on his cool marble island. “How much chocolate did you eat?”

“A lot,” I gasped, trying to lean away from him because no doubt I smelled horrible.

“I’ve never seen that much chocolate come back up from anybody, and we had a dog that got into my mom’s Valentine’s stash one time.” He stepped back as if sensing I needed some space.

The room spun around me, and I dug my hands into my bare thighs. Embarrassment competed with a light-headedness. “I am so sorry about this.”

His upper lip quirked. “About killing that nice pot of flowers my neighbor gave me or about trying to kiss me first?”

Oh God. “Both. Definitely both.” Aiden’s face swam across my mind, and I pushed thoughts of him ruthlessly away. Whatever we’d had was now over. “I may not have thought all of this through.”

“Maybe not.” Nick leaned in again and then paused. His brows drew down, and he stepped closer to me. “What’s going on with your eyes?”

“My eyes?” I blinked, and my stomach rolled over. What was happening?

“Yeah.” He leaned in. “They’re bloodshot, glassy, and dilated. Did you hit your head?”

Just then, my phone buzzed, and I jumped.

In one smooth and rather cool motion, Nick reached behind me and drew my cellphone from the back pocket of my cutoff shorts. He clicked the speaker button to answer, sliding the phone onto the marble. “Anna’s phone.”

“Oh my. Oh my goodness.” Thelma’s voice came over high and panicked. “Oh my. Who is this? Is Anna okay? Oh no.”

Nick’s eyes had turned a deeper brown and sharpened instantly. “Who is this?”

“It’s Thelma,” I explained, trying not to sway on the marble. The world fuzzed around me, and all of the hurt from earlier dissipated. I sniffed the air. “Hey. Smells like pizza. Do you have pizza? I could use a slice.” Wait. What were we talking about? The counter swayed beneath me.

Nick instantly caged me on the counter, one hand on either side of my hips. “What’s going on?” He had his grumpy boss voice back, and I missed his sweet and humorous one already.

Thelma sighed. “Georgiana gave you the wrong brownies,” she whispered.

“Ah shit,” Nick muttered, leaning back. “How much did you eat?”

I bit the inside of my cheek. “Of pizza? None. Where is it?”

His face morphed just a bit, and it wasn’t pretty. “Thelma? Talk now, please.”

Thelma rushed on using a bunch of letters and abbreviations that didn’t make a lick of sense, and all I could think about was pizza. Finally, Nick ended the call and promised everything would be okay.

I blinked up at him, my mind so calm I wouldn’t be surprised if I were emitting Theta waves. It felt like the calm before the hurricane. “Bye, Thelma.” She may have been gone for a few minutes at that point.

Nick leaned in, looking at my eyes. “Have you been high before? Eaten edibles?”

“Nope.” I liked his place now that the moving boxes were gone. It suited him. Long lines, awesome view of the lake, sleek furniture. “Why? Are you putting edibles in the pizza?”

“No.” He rubbed his chin. “Let’s get some water in you.”

My stomach lurched again. I clapped a hand over my mouth. “Um.”

He lifted me fast and jogged to the guest bath, setting me down on a deep grey mat and flipping the toilet lid up. “Hold on a—”

But I was already heaving liquid brownie mix into the bowl. I levered up on my knees and ralphed, my