Reign A Romance Anthology - Nina Levine Page 0,203

to see me there?”

He begins to pull me through the crowd until the cold air hits my face, and we’re standing outside on the pavement.

“For God’s sake, Amelia, do you not have any regard for your safety? I’m taking you home.”

“In case you’ve forgotten,” I say, a small hiccup escaping. “My home is in New Haven, not Manhattan.”

“I’m taking you back to my place.”

He doesn’t say another word, hailing a cab and shoving me inside. I begin to argue, though the more I argue, the more my head spins.

“Give me your phone?” Will demands without reason.

“Wh… why?”

“So I can text your friend to let her know you came home with me and you’re okay. What’s her name?”

“Liesel,” I mumble beneath my breath. “And it’s yet to be decided if I’m okay. I don’t know you anymore. What if you’re a knife-wielding murderer?”

“Trust me, sweetheart, the last person I’d want to deal with if that were true is you.”

Will yells to the cab driver to stop at the posh building. Pushing me out the door, he wraps his arm around my waist to carry me since, for some reason, everything begins to spin.

Somehow, we ride the elevator up and to God knows what floor until we’re standing inside a penthouse apartment.

“So, this is your place.” I look around at the bachelor pad, noting the leather furniture which appears untouched. “Such a man’s place.”

“I highly doubt you’ve been in many men’s places to make that judgment.”

The heat rises in my cheeks—what a dick. “I’ve watched movies. It’s as stereotypical as you can get.”

Suddenly, the room begins to spin, and bile rises in my throat. “Where’s your… your…” He points to the bathroom, and with only seconds to spare, I say goodbye to the multiple Cosmos I drank—the vile taste lingering in my mouth. Cradling the toilet, I beg for this to be over until it becomes evident that my hair and dress have been caught in the aftermath.

Stripping my clothes off, disgusted at the thought of my own vomit, I grab a towel and wrap it around me. Opening the door slowly, I call his name but beg him not to come over.

“Can I please borrow a shirt, and can you leave it at the door?”

I close the door again, my head spinning from the small movements. There’s a gentle knock on the door. “It’s here, and yes, you can use my shower.”

Relieved, I retrieve the shirt, then hop into the shower, desperate to wash my hair. After using whatever products he has, all smelling very masculine, I finish up, drying myself, and placing his shirt on. Using my fingers, I comb my hair out.

The shirt is long enough to appear like a dress. I place my heels on, wondering if cabs will take me all the way back to New Haven at this hour.

Exiting the bathroom, Will’s eyes fall onto my legs.

“You plan to do what exactly in my shirt and your heels?”

“I don’t know, take a cab,” I mumble, wincing my eyes to ignore the pulse inside my head.

“I’m taking you to bed.”

“I don’t want to have sex with you,” I say, defeated. “Besides, you’re old.”

“I’m not suggesting we have sex. I’m ordering you to sleep in my bed because you’ll thank me in the morning when hopefully, your hangover is less than vile. And besides, you’re too young.”

“You’re not my dad.”

“If I were your dad, knowing Lex, you’d be shipped back to LA and confined to a nunnery. Stop being so stubborn.”

He orders me to follow him to his bedroom. Opening the door, the lights turn on yet not so bright. There’s a king-size bed with black satin sheets, which looks so good right about now, and nothing else besides a large glass window overlooking the Hudson River.

Will leaves the room but returns moments later with Advil and a glass of water.

“Drink this, take this, and go to sleep.”

“Where are you sleeping?”

“On the couch. Why? I can sleep next to you, but sweetheart, just letting you know that sleeping with you will cause you more problems than for me.”

“You’re a jerk,” I mutter.

I climb into bed and throw the covers over me, watching him continue to stare at me. “Is there something wrong? Has my dad ordered you to sit and watch me all night?”

“Happy birthday, Amelia, and good luck tomorrow morning.”

I close my eyes, ignoring his scent splashed all over the pillows and how, even in my intoxicated state, I wonder what it would be like to smell