Comeback (Sequel to 'Before the Storm')

Chapter 30: What's Going On?

Ally's POV

Joe’s family had invited us to celebrate his latest releases. But tonight, something is off.

I stood in the corner, my high heels clicking softly against the marble floor, as my eyes scanned the room.

The room was alive with chatter, laughter, and the clink of champagne glasses, but I felt as if I were in a fog.

I tried to focus on the conversation we were having with Dani and Kevin, but my mind kept drifting, and the room seemed to spin a little.

"Are you ok?" Joe’s voice suddenly pulled me from my thoughts.

"I'm fine," I lied, placing a hand on my stomach.

My lips forced themselves into a smile, but the sensation in my gut was anything but fine.

"You're not fine. You've barely touched your drink, and you look pale," Joe pressed as he reached for my hand.

"I’ll be ok. It’s probably just a sudden anxiety attack."

Joe frowned, not buying it for a second.

"You’re sure? Because if you need to leave, we can—"

"I’m not leaving," I interrupted, my voice a little sharper than I intended it to be.

Joe opened his mouth to protest, but I quickly excused myself from the conversation, stepping away from the crowd.

I'm not going to ruin this for him. I just need a moment to gather myself.

I made my way toward the bar, hoping a drink would calm my nerves, ease the strange discomfort twisting in my gut.

The cool, sharp taste of the alcohol seemed to dull the edge of the nausea. It wasn’t exactly a cure, but it was enough to momentarily push it away.

Before I knew it, I had finished another drink, my mind foggy and buzzing in a way I hadn’t expected. The dizziness I felt earlier seemed to vanish with the alcohol, replaced by a sense of warmth and calm that spread through my body.

The nausea didn’t seem so urgent now. It was still there, but somehow it felt.. manageable. Not a big deal. Not something I needed to focus on.

“You feeling better?” Joe asked, his voice gentle as he watched me closely.

“Much better,” I replied, my words slow but smooth, a small smile playing on my lips.

I turned toward him, studying the way his features caught in the soft glow of the lights.

The sharpness of his jaw, the glint of mischief in his eyes, the way his outfit fit just perfectly against his body—it all made something stir deep inside me.

“You look good,” I said suddenly, my voice lowering a little, almost in a purr.

Joe raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by the shift in my tone.

He leaned in slightly, his smile teasing. “I look good?”

“Mm-hmm,” I confirmed, my fingers running absentmindedly through his hair as I looked up at him, my gaze lingering.

Joe chuckled, his gaze softening but still sharp with awareness. “Thank you, baby. I didn't realize.”

“I think you do,” I said, my voice dipping even lower as I reached up to trace my finger along the collar of his jacket.

“You always do. But tonight… I don’t know. You’re irresistible.”

Joe froze, just for a moment, his eyes flicking down to my lips and then back to my eyes.

His expression softened, but there was a hint of confusion there too, a slight hesitation that I didn’t quite catch on.

I had no idea why I was suddenly flirting like this—perhaps it was the drinks, perhaps it was the closeness between us, but whatever it was, it felt good.

"Are you trying to get me into bed, Allysa Jade Deleasa?" Joe asked, his voice barely above a whisper now, his gaze lingering on my lips.

My breath caught in my throat, and I instinctively stepped a little closer, my body inching toward his, my lips curling into a playful, yet slightly mischievous smile.

“Maybe I am, Joseph Adam Jonas” I whispered, my voice breathy.

I suddenly saw the shift in him—the way his jaw tightened, how his eyes darkened in that way he did when he was about to act on something, when he was no longer holding back.

But before either of us could take the next step, a loud voice called out from behind us, shattering the moment.

"Joe! Ally! There you are!" shouted Frankie.

--

As the evening went on, my earlier lightheartedness began to fade and the nausea was growing stronger.

Joe, who had been watching me closely all night, noticed the shift immediately.

My face, once flushed with playful energy, now looked pale, and my movements were slower, more deliberate.

Concern furrowed his brow as he wrapped his arms around my waist, holding me steady, his voice gentle but filled with worry.

"We're going home."

I protested weakly, but Joe was already pulling me toward the door.

"You need to rest," he insisted, as he guided me to the car.

By the time we reached the apartment, Joe had checked up on me about a thousand times to make sure I was alright. 

"Come on," he said gently, "Rest, baby. I’ll be right next to you if you need anything."

As I finally closed my eyes, the weight of the night caught up and only one thought seemed to linger..

What's going on with me?