The Cabin (3 page)

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Authors: Natasha Preston

BOOK: The Cabin
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Chapter Three

Two hours later, Blake and I were back at the cabin and indulging in drinking games with my friends. It didn't take long for me to get tipsy again…and then go straight to being drunk. I still knew my name and the prime minister's, but I'd definitely had one too many.

Tipping my head back, I laughed hysterically until my stomach muscles screamed in protest. Everything that was only remotely amusing when you were sober was heightened when you were drunk—so Kyle falling over was hilarious. He didn't even go all the way down—it was more like a stumble—but I was drunk, so it didn't matter. He stood up and looked around as if hoping no one had seen.

I giggled uncontrollably.

“Piss off,” he snapped, narrowing his eyes at Courtney as she laughed too.

“Touchy,” she muttered, leaning into Josh's chest as he put his arm around her.

Kyle folded his arms. “
Touchy?
Really, Court?”

If Courtney had tripped, she wouldn't have found it funny.

“Back off,” Josh barked.

Could we not go an hour without someone arguing anymore? Pre-Josh we rarely bickered. I groaned and held my full stomach. It was full from stuffing my face with enchiladas, and it was probably the only reason I could hold all of the alcohol I'd drunk.

Blake kicked his feet up on the coffee table and threw his arm over the back of the sofa behind me. Aaron's baby blues turned suspicious as he watched us. I refused to meet his eye and wrapped my arms around myself, not liking being the center of anyone's attention.

My walk with Blake had caused a few raised eyebrows. My friends—minus Court and definitely excluding Josh—seemed to think he was bad news, but that was probably because he was related to Josh and they hadn't really spoken to him yet. If they were giving Josh a second—or tenth—chance, they could certainly well give Blake a first one. Aaron was stubborn and protective though, so I knew he'd be the hardest to convince.

“Oh my God, we're gonna be so hungover tomorrow,” Megan whined. She wasn't as drunk as she acted, but she had always been like that. She'd perfected her look-at-me wobble, blatantly tripping over her own feet. She didn't like being drunk and losing control, but she didn't like to be the odd one out, so she pretended. Everyone knew she pretended. I think she knew we knew, but we all went along with it and laughed at silly, drunk Megan wobbling. It was kind of ridiculous.

“More shots!” Aaron announced, pointing to the empty shot glasses on the table. I had lost count of how many we had done so far. But as much as we had already drunk, we were going pretty slow compared to
that
night.

Blake was surprisingly sober for the amount he'd put away. I suspected he drank quite a bit at home to have that kind of tolerance. He walked in a straight line when he got up for more beer.

As the shots kept coming, I started to feel sick. My stomach turned, and every time I swallowed, I felt like my throat was pinching shut. Megan had brought some Italian liquor with her and made us finish the bottle because, as she put it, “If I take that crap back with me, my mother will disown me.” I could see why. It tasted of lemon and burned on the way down. It was probably what toilet cleaner tasted like. We also polished off Aaron's bottle of spiced rum.

I groaned and craned my neck. My body felt heavy and weak. I was getting to the sleepy part of being drunk. Everything was swimming and spinning.

“Does anyone else feel weird?” I asked.

God, I'll be lucky if I'm not sick tonight.

Megan giggled. “What, drunk?”

“Sort of. I guess,” I replied, pressing my hands to my face. I was too hot.
Please don't throw up.
The taste and feel of it rushing up my throat made me panic.

“Mackenzie, you look green,” Blake said, brushing my long hair over my shoulder. If I hadn't been too ill, I would've swooned at the feel of his hand grazing my neck.

My head spun.

“Oh crap!” I leaped up, slapping my hand to my mouth as I hightailed it to the bathroom. Thankfully, I made it to the toilet before bringing up half the booze I'd consumed. I braced my palms against the wall beside the toilet as I finished puking.

Groaning, I slowly pushed myself to my feet, flushed the toilet, and brushed my teeth. I stumbled back into the living room feeling no more sober but way better now that my stomach wasn't so queasy.

“Are you OK?” Courtney asked when I returned.

Josh snorted. “Does she look it?”

I didn't have the energy for a sarcastic comeback, so I flashed him the middle finger and sat back down.

Blake gave me a small, genuine smile that melted me. “You good?”

“Mmm. I'm just gonna rest my eyes for a minute.”
Keep still and don't move a muscle.
If I could be a statue, the waves of nausea would go away. Closing my eyes, I felt sleep dragging me under.

“I'm going up to bed,” Megan announced. “I'm tired and probably going to have a hangover from hell tomorrow.” I nodded against the sofa cushion with my eyes still shut and mentally punched myself.
Do not move, Mackenzie.

“Err, Megan, down here tonight,” Josh reminded. It was Courtney's idea that we should all sleep downstairs like it was a big slumber party. Why it mattered where we were when we were unconscious, I did not know. Of course Josh would back her up. Not because she was his girlfriend, but because it would make him look like a good boyfriend. He wouldn't care if Megan slept outside.

“Shut up, Josh,” she said, forcing her words to slur.

“Come on, Megan, you agreed,” Courtney whined.

Josh put his arm on Court's thigh and leaned toward Megan. “This isn't your house, in case you forgot.”

Aaron scoffed. “How could she forget? You remind us every five minutes!”

“You're a guest, Aaron, so you do what I say, when I say!”

“Bloody hell, Josh, why does it bloody matter where everyone sleeps?” Blake snapped.

Thank you!
I thought. At least someone was reasonable.

“Just go upstairs if you want, Megan,” Blake said.

I flicked my eyes open in time to see Megan stick out her tongue at Josh and stumble up the stairs. Blake was quiet but smirking at the scene.

You so like Blake.
I did—much more than I should.

“What's your problem?” Aaron asked Josh, slumping back against the end of the sofa from his place on the floor. “Ever since Tilly and Gigi died, you've been a complete dick.”

Before that too.

I curled up, not wanting to talk about my dead friends with Josh. It made me violently angry when I thought about the things he's said and what he was doing. You can be glad you didn't die, but it's unacceptable to be glad someone else did. I gritted my teeth.

“What's
your
problem?” Josh sneered. “You dumped Tilly just before, remember?”

Aaron's eyes darkened. “You know what, Josh? Drop dead! I swear if you ever say her name again, I'll kill you.” I expected Aaron to get up and lunge for Josh. But he just sat there. Was he too drunk to move as well? That didn't usually stop him.

Sighing, I scrubbed my face with my hands. Nights always ended in arguments now and I was tired of it.

“Stop!” Courtney shouted. “End it now.”

I clenched my fists. How could she not see who Josh really was? That he was the instigator? Aaron shook his head and took another swig from his bottle of vodka, finishing the last drop. I wanted to get up and leave the room, but I couldn't even raise my arm. My eyes suddenly weighed a ton again. I was so over this. I felt horrible. I probably looked it too. The room spun, and I my limbs got lighter and lighter, like they were going to lift and I'd float off. Snuggling into the sofa with a throw pillow, I drifted.

It only felt like minutes later when I was woken up by the bravest human on earth. I don't come out of sleep gracefully.
This had better be good.
“What?” I growled. Blake's very amused expression was the first thing I saw when I reluctantly opened my eyes.

His eyes lit up and he grinned. “Your shirt.”

I propped myself up on one elbow and looked down. My shirt was still on, so I didn't know what he was going on about. “What? My what, Blake?”

“It's…” He traced his finger along my hip bone, where my shirt had ridden up an inch or two, showing a small slice of skin.
Oh.
I tried to breathe normally, but my senses were on overload. His intense gaze was all I could see, and that woody, masculine aftershave was all I could smell. His fingertip trailing over my skin tickled and left me breathless.

I looked around to see if anyone else was awake. Kyle and Aaron were sprawled and snoring on the floor. Courtney and Josh were nowhere to be seen, probably upstairs. Hypocrites. “You woke me up to touch my stomach?” I asked as calmly as I could.

“No, I woke you up to see if you've known me long enough to let me take you to bed yet.”

No, he hasn't, but I can feel all logic jumping right out of the window. I've never wanted someone I barely knew before, but Blake is different.

My eyebrows shot up in shock, but my heart raced with excitement. I didn't know Blake, not really, but I couldn't get my brain to function well enough to convince me of that. Before I could reply, Blake's lips touched mine, and that was when logical thought ended. I let him take me upstairs.

• • •

Saturday, August 8

I cracked my eyes open and they were immediately stung by the evil morning light. It didn't help that the room was a bright yellow. Groaning, I ran my hands over my face. I felt like I'd been hit by a bus. My head throbbed, and every time I swallowed, I felt as if I were downing sawdust. To make matters worse, this time Blake wasn't waking me up. My hangovers weren't usually this bad. Last night, I had drunk a lot, but nowhere near enough to feel as awful as I did. When had I become such a humongous lightweight? Blake lay on his side, with one arm and one leg thrown over me. He looked peaceful. Whatever weighed on his mind during the day didn't trouble him while he slept.

Biting my lip, I watched him sleep, feeling a bit like a creeper. I had never had a one-night stand, so my experience with the morning after was nonexistent. I knew the general idea was to leave ASAP, but in this situation, that was impossible. We were spending the weekend in the same secluded place, and it's not like I had my own car.

Oh God.
I had a one-night stand!
I tried to calm myself.
It's fine. You're an adult, remember? Adults do this all the time.
But I didn't. Why had I allowed myself to sleep with Blake when I hadn't even known him twenty-four hours?

Shut up, it's fine. You're allowed to be into a guy, to have a good time.

I had to get a grip. There was nothing I could do to change what had happened. But neither of us needed to freak out or make this awkward—and by neither of us, I meant me. We were attracted to each other and acted on it. We were both into it, both consenting adults. It'd be fine. Besides, I felt too ill to worry much anyway.

Pushing myself up, I flopped and fell back against the mattress. My heavy stomach rolled. Oh God. I had no energy. I needed water, aspirin, and to throw up the remaining alcohol that was still sloshing around in my system.

Never again. Never ever, ever, ever again.

My movements woke Blake. He removed his hand from my stomach and rubbed his face. “I feel like death,” he groaned.

Blushing because of the situation we were in, I replied, “Join the club.”

He smiled at me. “How do you not look like hell in the morning? I mean, you've got that stunning, post-sex glow that's turning me on.”

Seriously? “How can you feel like crap and still want sex?”

He replied, “Have you ever seen yourself, Mackenzie?”

His comment made me bite my lip. I didn't think I was that pretty, but I kind of loved how he saw me. Everyone wanted someone to think they were special, and my ex never had. Blake made me feel sexy and appreciated, which was nice, even if I broke my own rules.

“I…” I what? What did I want to say?

Chuckling quietly, he shoved himself up and reached for his jeans. “I need food and strong coffee. Do you know what everyone has planned for today?”

Following his lead, I grabbed my clothes and started to get dressed. I flicked my gaze at him to make sure he wasn't looking at me. He was. “We're going down to the lake to swim. Aaron wants to feed everyone barbecue food all day; then we're making a bonfire in the evening.”

Blake stilled. “You're making a fire in the middle of the forest?”

“A small bonfire. We're not setting trees alight.”

“At least not purposefully,” he muttered. “I'm overseeing that.”

“Oversee away. I'm sure Aaron would love the help.”

“It's not Aaron I want to hang out with.”

Holy…

I bit my lip. “Well, good.”

He lifted an eyebrow while staring into my eyes. “Yes, it is.”

If he kept looking at me like that, I was going to explode. I already felt too hot.

“So you'll be down at the river all day?” he asked, bending over to pick up his T-shirt and pull it over his head. His muscular back was just as painfully perfect as the front. He must work out because there was no way that body just happened.

“Yeah. You'll come too, right?” I blushed again, hoping I didn't sound desperate, but I wanted to spend the day with him.

He wasn't exactly one of us, but there was an opportunity for us all to be friends if he'd give it a chance. I'd already taken that chance and ran with it. Last night was proof. Blake was confident and caring, a combination I found really attractive. And he wanted to hang out with me as much as I did with him, it seemed.

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