Oh, Dakota.

Chapter Thirty Five.

Dakota Aniston

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The alcohol came back to haunt me. At around two in the morning, I jolted from sleep, my stomach clenching painfully. I only had one word out of my mouth, and that was, “Oh,” before, I leaped from the bed and ran to the bathroom; I only had one second to peel open the toilet seat, before I was hunched over and throwing up.

Elijah walked over slowly, rubbing his left eye with his knuckle. He was shirtless, and I only had time to glance at his stomach muscles, before my head was back in the toilet seat.

“Are you alright?” Elijah murmured, his voice drowsy and deep from sleep. I would have melted at the sound, if it wasn’t for I was throwing up again.

I felt Elijah behind me. His warm hands ran up my back and into my hair, scooping it into his palms and moving it away from my face. I shivered, and I wasn’t sure if it was from Elijah’s fingers skimming over my neck, or the fact that my stomach was still rolling and my temples have begun to pound irregularly.

“Elijah.” I crocked, my voice scratchy from how dry my throat had become. I rolled to my side, facing away from him. “Get out, I’m a mess.”

“Dakota, don’t be stupid.” He sighed, the sound slightly annoyed and slightly worried, but the only thing I could focus on was the feeling of his breath sliding delicately over the back of my neck. Would it be wrong to feel turned on right now?

“I’m sorry.” I cried, wiping the sleeve of the hoodie I’m wearing across my forehead, since I have begun to sweat. “I’m sick.”

I’m not sure if I’m still drunk, but I sure as hell don’t feel sober. Usually I’m not this bad at holding my alcohol, but considering I’m more of a rum type of girl, all the Jell-O and tequila shots mixed with the beer didn’t settle well with my stomach.

“I know you are.” He said softly, his big arms slipping between my own to wrap around my stomach. He pulled me into his chest, burying my head under his chin. He began to slowly rock us back and forth, his hands sneaking under the fabric of his sweatshirt to slip over my thighs soothingly.

I moaned softly despite my state. “You don’t have to do this.”

He chuckled, the sound vibrating his bare chest. “You didn’t let me do it the last time.”

“I’m such a bitch.” I cried, and like the pathetic, drunk asshole I am, a tear ran down my cheek, running into the bridge of my nose.

“No, you’re not.” One of his hands came up to cup my chin, and he forced me to look at him. “Don’t cry.”

I shook my head erratically. “Yes I am. That’s why you wouldn’t sleep with me, isn’t it?”

He sighed again. “Blondie, you know that’s not the reason.”

“Then, what is? Am I not pretty enough for you?” I turned away from him, looking at the tiled wall in front of me. I think I’m going to be sick again.

“You’re beautiful.” His head dunk into my neck, and I felt his cool lips against my skin. It wasn’t a kiss, but the intention of one.

“Then, why did you go out with Stacey?” I wailed, but didn’t have time to wait for his answer. Before I knew what was happening, I gagged, my stomach churning, and Elijah led me back over the toilet.

When I was done, Elijah left me. He came back two minutes later and handed me a toothbrush that hadn’t been open yet. I mumbled thanks, and with shaky legs, I stood up. My hands were also shaking, and I brushed my teeth slowly.