Addiction

Chapter 6

Chapter 6

“Ready?” he asked gruffly, taking her arm in a tight grip.

“Ow!”

He immediately loosened his fingers. “Sorry. Let's go.”

“What is up with you and your dad?” She swung her head in his direction, trying to see through his set expression.

“There's nothing up with me and Harry.” He helped her traverse the gravel filled driveway in her heels, clicking his tongue every so often when her ankle would twist and he'd have to grab at her to make sure she stayed upright. “What made you think it was such a good idea to drink so much champagne?”

“It seemed like – hic – a good idea – hic – at the time.”

He took off his jacket and draped it around her shoulders, pulling her closer to stop the shivering that had set in. “You know that guy only wants to get into your pants, don't you?”

She laughed, a heaving hiccup-infused whoop of laughter. “That's the first brotherly thing you've – hic – said to me all night!”

He swooped into a low bow. “I aim to please.”

“Well in that case, it would please – hic – me very much to sleep this booze off.”

“Come on,” he told her, once more wrapping his arms around her shoulders to keep her warm and upright. “Where do you live, by the way?”

“Oh, that's right!” she exclaimed. “You haven't been to the house yet. Your room is all ready and everything.” She was very proud of that fact. “Complete – hic – with a study desk and lamp. You don't have to stay at the hotel, you know. You never did.” Her mom had done a great job getting his room ready for him – using Sophie's design ideas, naturally – even though they'd hardly see him when college started next week.

“I know,” he replied, slowly. He seemed to be avoiding the topic of his moving in.

“So that's settled then.” She hiccuped again. “You'll stay at the house tonight and fetch the rest of your stuff from the hotel in the morning.”

“I don't think so.”

“What if I vomit in my sleep? Who'll be there to save me? You're supposed to be my new brother,” she told him, smirking. “You're not doing such a good job, are you? Already abandoning me to death by vomit.” She tried to laugh, but the hiccups came back with a vengeance, and she blew her cheeks out in an expression of queasiness.

“I'll stay, then.”

She swayed along the pavement. “Good. This way.” The house wasn't too far ahead, and she felt guilty for taking him from the party. “If you want to go back it's okay. I'll be fine. I doubt I'll die in my sleep.”

He laughed, the sound setting her nerves on edge. It was a deep, rough, masculine laugh, that pulled at things she didn't understand, low in her belly. “I'll stay,” he repeated. “It's getting late anyway, and I have orientation in the afternoon.”

“Oh,” the disappointment she felt surprised her. What was it about this guy? “I didn't think you started until next week.”

“I don't. But the student council has arranged for a tour of campus and all the buildings especially for students new to the area. I can't pass that up.”

With a wild and panicked shriek, she stumbled over a crack in the pavement, flopping into a bush headfirst, her dress flying over her head in the process. “Oh sweet God,” she groaned. “I cannot catch a – hic – break.” Thank God she was wearing full panties and not a thong as she sometimes thought about wearing.

Logan's riotous laughter echoed through the deserted street as he helped her into a standing position. “Talk about falling head over heels,” he joked, the amusement in his voice bringing the flames of mortification to her cheeks anew. “Come on, greedy. Let's get you home.”

She had rather over-indulged, hadn't she? With a small nod and a wobbly gait, she clutched his arm and allowed him to lead her home, where she fell into bed with an awkward goodnight of some description.

Sleep was a long time coming, and his laughter chased her into dreams. She was pretty sure she'd called him hot-boy by mistake, too. Crap.

*

“OH, MY GOD. MY HEAD feels like it's gonna explode.” The smell of fresh coffee brought her down the stairs the next morning, but the smell of cooked bacon made her hesitate on the threshold of the kitchen.

Her mom gave her a stern look. “You deserve every miserable moment, Sophie Ellis.”

“Mo-om.” Why couldn't she be loving and gentle in her daughter's time of need, rather than irritated, vengeful and slightly amused?

“That's what you get for sneaking more champagne than was good for you. I did warn you.”

“Really? 'I told you so' is all I'm getting from this?” With a groan, she folded her arms on the island and bent over to rest her head. “No sympathy at all?”

“Nope. I did tell you so. And you didn't listen. So enjoy your first hangover, sweetie, and let's hope it encourages you to be a non-drinker. In fact, I could think of worse things than you being tee-total from here on in.” Her mom flipped the bacon and sipped from her coffee cup.

“Where's Harry?” Sophie asked, feeling the house's strange emptiness.

“He's gone with Logan to visit the college. Says he wants to see what his money is paying for.” Her lips twisted in an expression of distaste. “I suggested that Logan was big and bad enough to see to himself in that regard, but you know Harry. He always wants to see where the bucks go.”

“Mmm, yeah.” She considered a half-remembered scene from the night before, and Harry's pointing finger. “Mom, do you think Harry and Logan will get on?”

“I don't know, sweetie. But something tells me that Logan has had more than his fair share of issues with his dad.” She offered Sophie a slice of bacon, laughing when Sophie mimed sticking her fingers down her throat. “Let's hope they do, honey.”

She wondered for the first time, if perhaps Harry had told a few white lies concerning his estrangement from his son. It was plain for any fool to see that he loved him – he'd offered to pay Logan's way through college just for the chance to get to know him again, after all – but she began to that think it was less to do with Logan being a s**t, and more to do with Harry being a s**t dad. She hoped they could work things through and grow close again. If she had the chance to get to know her own dad all over again, she'd snatch at it with both hands.

*