Fate (Steel Brothers Saga #13) - Helen Hardt Page 0,13

my doctor’s bills and now additional expenses associated with my college.

My first day at college…and here I was, drunk and alone in a shower stall, having ruined my favorite blouse.

Nice job, Daphne. Nice job.

I exited the stall and found a towel and my burgundy robe sitting by one of the sinks. Thank God for Ennis Ainsley. I dried off and put the robe on, wishing I had a brush to run through the tangled mess of my hair.

But I didn’t, so I left the bathroom.

Ennis stood outside. “Feeling better, love?”

I smiled…or at least tried to. “A little.”

“Here.” He handed me a toothbrush and toothpaste. “I found it in your room. Get the taste out of your mouth.”

I nodded, walked back into the bathroom, and brushed the heck out of my teeth.

Ennis was still in the hallway when I returned. “I’m sorry. I tried to warn you to go slowly with that drink.”

“You did. It’s my own fault.”

Take responsibility for your actions, Dr. Payne always said. No one controls you but you.

“You’ll be fine by morning. There’s a big day planned with orientation festivities.”

“Ugh,” I said. “The thought of orientation festivities makes me want to get sick all over again.”

“It’ll be fun. You’ll see.”

We stopped at the door to my room.

“Get to bed, now. A good night of sleep is all you need.”

“My head hurts.”

“Do you have anything for a headache?”

“In one of my boxes somewhere.”

“I’ve got some in my room. Go ahead in. I’ll bring it to you with a large glass of water. You’ll be good as new come morning.”

I nodded and let myself into my room. Thank God for the bottom bunk. I couldn’t handle climbing at the moment.

A few minutes later, a knock sounded on the door. I hoped it was Ennis, because I was too exhausted to get up and look.

“Come in,” I said.

The door opened.

But it wasn’t Ennis.

“Hi, Daphne,” came the deep voice of Brad Steel.

Oh, God. I knew I looked like hell. My long hair was tangled and plastered to my neck and chest. I wore nothing but the burgundy robe.

“Shit, are you all right?” he asked, walking in.

No, I was so not all right. I was embarrassed beyond all get-out. The most amazing guy I’d ever met, who’d given me such a tender kiss earlier tonight, was seeing me at my worst.

“What happened?” he asked again.

“Nothing. I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine. You’ve been drinking.”

“So? You and Sean drank at dinner.”

“Sean and I are used to alcohol. What were you drinking?”

“I don’t know. Some pinkish punch someone made.”

“Most likely Everclear. That shit’s a hundred and twenty proof at minimum.”

“What’s that mean?”

“It means you were drinking sixty percent alcohol. It’s banned in some states.”

“But not here?”

“Nope. Oh, man. Who gave you that stuff? I’m going to kick the shit out of him.”

“Ennis.”

“Who’s Ennis?”

“My friend Ennis.”

“Did I hear my name?” Ennis walked in the door, carrying the promised glass of water.

“You Ennis?” Brad asked.

“Yeah, who are you?”

Brad didn’t answer.

Instead, he punched Ennis in the jaw.

Chapter Ten

Brad

The glass of water the guy carried fell from his hand and shattered on the tile floor of the hallway when he toppled against the wall. I raised my fists, ready to pounce—

“Brad, no!”

I turned.

Daphne stood right outside her door, her robe falling precariously and baring one milky shoulder.

“Please,” she said. “It’s not his fault. I drank it.”

“He gave it to you.”

“He simply brought me a drink,” she said, her eyes glistening.

God, please don’t cry. Please don’t cry.

Daphne didn’t cry.

The guy stood, rubbing his jaw. “Mate, I didn’t do anything to her.”

British, apparently. Great. I should apologize. That was what a gentleman would do. But the words didn’t come.

“Did she get sick?” I asked him.

“She did. I took care of her. I was bringing her some aspirin and water.”

I regarded Daphne Wade, and an overwhelming desire to protect her from every evil in the world surged through me. Maybe she reminded me of my mother. Her coloring was similar. I hadn’t been able to protect my mother from everything. But I sure as hell wanted to protect this woman in front of me—this woman I hardly knew, but who had the softest lips I’d ever kissed.

“You owe Ennis an apology,” Daphne said softly.

I did, but he wasn’t going to get one. My old man had taught me never to apologize. It was weak.

Of course my old man was a Grade A asshole, too.

“Not necessary,” Ennis said.

Good. I was off the hook, until Daphne’s eyes darkened with anger.

“Say you’re sorry, Brad. He deserves