CHAPTER 9
Sadie stumbled a bit, caught her hand on the wall of the table. Shouts surrounded themfor her? for him? for someone else?but she just fought to stay upright, fought not to pass out from the recipe of lust, alcohol, noise and his thumb.
She shivered. God, his thumb felt good, right there on her bottom lip like that, tracing lines back and forth; her lips were sensitive, as sensitive as any erogenous zone on her body, and she often complained to Liz that guys didnt pay enough attention to the lips. They kissed, sure, which was nice, but they never really caressed lips, the way they would her breast or neck.
But this. This thumb, stroking long lines back and forth, backed up by the swimming vision of smoky blue eyes and those cheekbones
She hiccupped a small breath, and, against her will, closed her eyes and leaned closer to his thumb.
Hey, chickie! a shout sliced into her reverie. You gonna throw those or suck your boyfriends thumb all night?
Sadies eyes snapped open, and heat colored her cheeks as she saw the laugh in JCs eyes. His thumb still on her lip, she lifted the dice to her face, snaked out her tongue to push his thumb aside, and blew on them.
Here you go, she said. Luck be a lady.
He swallowed, took her hand in his, the dice still locked in her fingers, and turned to the table. Just a sec, he called to the three or four old men who made up their audience. He turned back to her. Lets do it together.
And before her mouth could snap shut from hearing him say those words, he closed his hand over hers, counted to three, and shook the dice free of their hands. They rolled across the table, making muffled bumps against the felt, and JC slipped one arm around her waist, pulling her close to his hip, and one die stopped rollingthreeand the other stoppedfourand he shouted, Seven! and the old men clapped and hooted for Sadie, and suddenly Sadie wasnt feeling so hot, surrounded by smoke and colors and lights, and JC was jostling her with his jumping, and as the dealer passed a stack of chips to him, Sadie felt cold sweat break out on her forehead, and she squeezed his hand, and as he turned to her, delight on his face again, shouting something about her being his Lady Luck, she squeaked out a moan, then gripped his sweater, and his eyebrows furrowed, and she mumbled, Im not feeling so
And then she ran for the bathroom, barely making it into the stall before a waterfall of orange-y liquor came cascading out of her mouth.
Sometime later, she lifted her cheek from the cool porcelain of the toilet seat, humiliation burning her cheeks. Shed just spent several hours with the most amazing guy shed ever metwho, in addendum, happened to be JC fucking Chasezand then she puked in the bathroom like a sixteen-year-old on wine coolers.
She smacked her lips together. Kind of tasted like wine coolers. What the hell did they drink, anyway?
The bathroom door creaked open, and she scrambled up to hold the door shut. Broken lock. She was sure she wasnt the first woman to lose her liquor in the casinos bathroom, but she didnt want to advertise it. So she gripped the handle and prayed the woman would get the fuck out as soon as possible.
Someone tapped on her door.
Hey, a voice said. You OK?
Sadie leaned her forehead against the cold metal of the stall door and closed her eyes. Luck was not being a very nice lady tonight.
Sadie?
Go away, she croaked. Silence.
Do you want some water? he asked, and she could hear the smile in his voice. He was laughing at her.
But he had water.
Yes, she said, and cringed at the pouty sound in her voice. His elegant hand placed a bottle of water under the door, and she watched as his knees appeared. He crouched outside her door, patient and kind, and all she could think was that he needed to get as fucking far away as possible.
Do you want me to leave?
Yes.
Are you sure?
Sadie thought for a moment. The loss of about a fifth of liquor in her stomach increased her comprehension considerably, and to tell the truth, she didnt want to be alone.
No, she said, and sipped the water. It tasted like heaven.
A moment later, though, the heaven hit her stomach, and then her head was in the toilet again, and a hand was gripping her hair, and another hand was wiping her mouth, and when she leaned back, she fell against shins.
Feeling better?
She arched her head up, looked into his upside-down face, the fluorescent lights of the bathroom shining around his head and ridiculous Gucci hat like a goddamn halo, and burst into tears.
Gentle hands lifted her up and set her on the toilet seat; she felt her forehead pressed into soft sweater and hard chest, hot tears streaming down her face, her empty stomach still quivering, and cried her eyes out.
Whats all this? said the angels voice, and strong hands smoothed her hair away from her face, produced toilet paper to wipe away her tears, let her blow her nose. We made back the cash you lost at roulette with the seven you rolled.
Silence. She would not talk. She would not talk. If she talked, she would cry again.
You OK?
Sadie stared at her shoes. She would not, could not, Sam-I-Am, show her face like this. Nor would she empty out her box of woes to JC fucking Chasez.
But then she whispered, No.
Its not just the liquor, is it? I mean, we drank a lot, and Im really, really sorry
No, I just feel so stupid, I mean, youre so nice and funny and charming and god youre so fucking sexy I could die, and here I am with vomit on my shoe crying in the bathroom like a kid and Im in Tahoe all alone for New Years and my boyfriend broke up with me this morning
What? he said.
Yeah, she said, sniffling. I mean, I guess I wasnt that crazy about him anyway, but Jesus, over the holidays? This was supposed to be a big weekend for all of us, my friends and him and me, and he was so stable and stuff, thought he might be the one maybe, but he called me this morning, and
Im sorry for dumping all this on you.
Come on, he said, and stood, offering his hand out to her. He opened the stall door, led her like a child to the sinks, and turned on the cold water. He ran a paper towel under the faucet, gripped her chin in his hand, and began washing her face. She stared at him, knowing her eyes were fire-engine red, her nose was running and she looked like hell, but all she could think of was how gentle his hand felt, how beautiful his eyes looked, how kind he seemed.
Why are you being so nice to me? she asked, hearing the wonder in her own voice.
Because youre letting me, he said, grinning, and then she laughed; theyd talked about The Breakfast Club earlier.
Are you going to put eyeliner on me next?
I suppose I could, he said. But I think you look fine without it.
Coming from anyone else, at any other time, from any man who wasnt so gorgeous and so tender with a paper towel and cold water, she wouldve thought that was a line.
But it wasnt. Her heart jumped, and she gazed at his eyes, how they followed his hands as he cleansed her face, searching for any missed tears. After a moment, he met her gaze, and his hand paused on her cheek.
Sadies breath caught for the thousandth time that evening, but not because of lust of desire. He held her gaze for a moment, and like their slow, comfortable screw, this moment stretched on for decades, centuries, millennia, and she thought for a moment shed faint from lack of oxygen if she didnt breathe soon. She wondered if he felt it, too, this moment they just had, but then he blinked, and shook his head, and tossed the paper towel into the trash.
Up for pancakes? he asked. IHOPs right down the road.
She stared at him a moment longer, hiccupped, and smiled. My stomach is kind of empty.
Blueberry syrup it is.