"Heiress?" I called, raising my voice as I cautiously slipped into Avery's bedroom. It was practically mine too, although on occasion she still wanted her privacy.
This morning, however, Avery wasn't even awake.
As I crept inside, a smell prickled my nose. A smell so familiar I questioned whether I was in her bedroom, or my own.
Alcohol.
One look at a shattered bottle on the carpet confirmed my suspicion.
Avery had been drinking.
Although she was dating an alcoholic, my girlfriend wasn't one to drink herself. Coffee was more her thing.
As I headed toward Avery's bed, I dodged a few slivers of glass hidden within the carpet.
Did she drink that whole bottle last night?
Since Avery was laying in a fetal position, her head tucked under her arms, I laid a hand on her leg. Her tank top was wrinkled, and her little pajama shorts were even worse condition.
"Heiress," I murmured, nudging an arm away from her face.
A little whimper escaped her lips, confirming my suspicion. I was well acquainted with hangovers, although I couldn't imagine experiencing one to this extent. Drinking that much alcohol in one night? For someone as small as her?
"How's your head?" I asked, laying beside her.
"It hurts," she said weakly.
"Getting drunk does that to you," I murmured, before lowering my lips to the crease of her neck and kissing her collarbone. "What were you thinking, Heiress? Your body can't take that."
"Yours can," she argued.
"I'm used to it," I reminded her. "And even I don't drink that much."
"Debatable," she slurred, hiding her face again.
"Don't curl up like that," I advised. "It'll make it worse."
"I don't care."
"Too bad, Heiress — I do." Pulling her against my chest, I murmured, "Have you had any water today?"
"No." As the word left her mouth, Avery's eyes started to roll back.
Eyes rabid, I searched the nightstands on either side of her bed for a water bottle. When one couldn't be found, a growl tore loose of my throat. Avery looked ready to fall asleep or pass out — and I doubted either would be beneficial in her condition.
What she really needed was a comprehension of why she would never be drinking again.
Running a hand down the length of her body, I murmured, "Don't move, Heiress. I'll be right back."
As I stumbled from her bedroom and into my own, I ran a hand through my messy hair. I couldn't believe this.
Avery? Drinking?
How much time had she been spending with me?
My teeth ground together as a snatched a glass of water atop my bedside table — the rich rosewood had been one of the few gifts from the old man. Though considering everything, I didn't know why I hadn't gotten rid of it. My fingers still felt the abrasive wood on my fingers as I exchanged bedrooms and crawled into Avery's bed with her.
"Open your mouth," I murmured, my left hand supporting her shaking head as she slowly downed the water. Near the bottom, she stopped swallowing, so I nudged her arm. "All of it, Heiress."
She fought a whimper.
I knew, from experience, that drinking that much after waking up wasn't pleasant. But it would be best to flush out the alcohol as quickly as possible.
When Avery finished the glass, I rewarded her with a couple kisses on her neck. Her head lolled against my shoulder, her body still fighting to regain its regular strength and agility.
"You'll feel better tomorrow," I murmured in her ear, brushing aside a curtain of unruly hair.
All Avery said in response was, "I knew it was a bad idea."
"Then why did you do it?"
Her eyes squeezed shut. "I wanted the pain to go away — I wanted to feel numb."
The confession made my eyebrows lift in unison. It was unlike Avery to be this reckless — another reason she was spending too much time with me.
But the ache in her eyes had me pressing my forehead against hers. "Alcohol won't take away the pain, Heiress. I learned that the hard way."
"Then what will?"
"Nothing," I admitted. "Sometimes you have to feel it."
"I can't handle it."
I lifted her chin with both thumbs, my worried gaze fading into one of determination. "Yes you can. Because I'm going to be here." A crooked grin spread over my lips as I added, "And we make a wicked good team, don't we?"
