Oracle: A Paranormal Women's Fiction Series (A Diana Hawthorne Supernatural Mystery Book 1), Carissa Andrews [read my book .txt] 📗

“Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“Well, you are on your fifth drink,” Blake says, his eyes twinkling.

“This is my fourth, thank you very much,” I say, holding my chin up higher. “I still know how to count.”

Blake squints, shaking his head and pursing his lips.

My mouth drops open.

“Five? Really?”

“Yup.”

“Oh, well. Bottoms up,” I say, downing the contents.

“Wake up, sleeping beauty. Time to get off the plane.”

My eyes fly open and I instinctively wipe at my mouth.

“Holy shit. Where are we?” I say, shaking away the cobwebs. Instantly, I regret it. My brain thuds against my skull, making the world spin.

“Ugh.”

I close my eyes, raising my hands to either side of my head.

Blake chuckles, patting me on the shoulder.

“We landed a couple of minutes ago and we’re just waiting for the seatbelt light to turn off,” Blake says.

“Oh my god, why did you let me drink so much?” I mumble.

“I don’t think it was a matter of ‘let,’ Diana. You’re a big girl,” he casts a knowing look, “who apparently can’t handle her alcohol.”

I groan.

“I don’t remember the last time I had a drink. It’s been … years.”

“Well, that would explain the lack of control.”

I pop one eye open and glare at him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

The seatbelt light clicks off and a loud dinging broadcasts over the speakers.

“Welcome to Rome. The weather outside is 46 degrees and sunny. You’re now free to unbuckle your seatbelts and make your way to the front exit,” the perky flight attendant announces.

“Saved by the bell,” I say shooting Blake a sideways glance.

He quickly unbuckles his seatbelt and leans over me to open the overhead compartment. I shift back in my seat, all too aware how close his torso and nether regions are to my face. The thought makes me squirm in my seat.

“You know—I could have gotten our stuff,” I say, clearing my throat.

Blake looks down with a crooked eyebrow.

“Have you stood up yet?” he asks, sarcasm dripping from his words.

“Don’t be a dumbass. You know I haven’t.”

“Well, I figured I’d save you the uncoordinated attempt as you try to get your land legs back.”

He drops my carry-on in my lap and throws his over his shoulder.

“Thanks,” I mumble.

I feel like I’m swimming in space and time. Light from the cabin meshes around me in strange swirls and I close my eyes again.

It was a bad idea to drink.

After a few minutes, the doors open and a mad dash exodus occurs. I stay in my seat, refusing to budge until the last person has been herded from the innards.

“I think it’s safe to go now,” Blake says, gently reaching under my arm and lifting me to stand.

He’s right—standing is worse than sitting and I rock slightly from side to side, trying to awkwardly stay vertical.

I hate that he’s right—this whole standing thing sucks.

Stumbling down the aisle with Blake dragging me along, I can’t help but long for somewhere flat to rest.

“She’ll be okay. She’s with me,” I hear him say.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Hate flying,” I say, trying to sound more aware than I feel.

“Welcome to Rome,” the flight attendant says, shaking her head.

A coffee pot whirrs to life as it grinds beans somewhere nearby.

My eyes fly open and I bolt upright.

The blankets fall to my lap, revealing my torso in all its undergarmented glory.

“Why am I in my underwear? Where are the rest of my clothes?” I screech, clutching the blankets and pulling them close to my chest.

“The maid service has them,” Blake says unfazed, stirring sugar into a coffee cup.

“Why—?”

“Because you threw up on them in the Taxi and I figured you wouldn’t appreciate sleeping in regurgitated stomach acid.”

My eyebrows tug in and I make a face.

Great impression, Diana.

“Oh,” I sigh. “Well—ah—thanks.”

“Don’t worry—I didn’t look. Much,” he grins, walking to me and handing the cup over.

“Wonderful,” I glare back, taking the offering.

“They should be back here soon,” he says.

“Where’s our luggage? I could just change—”

Blake shakes his head.

“It didn’t make it. The airline’s looking for our stuff. Guess you had the right idea.”

“See? See—this is why I pack light,” I say, flipping my hand up.

“Just as well, anyway. Once we got threw Customs—thanks for holding it together until then at least—you pretty much turned into a jellyfish. I didn’t know how the hell I was gonna get you back here—and have to deal with the luggage on top of it.”

I clutch the hair on the side of my head, “God, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I just—I don’t do well with flying, or cars— It all makes me really anxious.”

“Funnily enough, I did catch onto that.”

I run my hand over my face.

What a mess.

“How long was I out?” I ask.

“Not super long—long enough to sleep it off, though, I’m hoping.”

“Okay, Mr. Cryptic. Wanna be more specific?”

“Well, it took some time to finagle you to a taxi… You weren’t entirely with it. You know? So, I suppose, thirteen hours. Give or take.”

“Holy shit—what? First of all, why the hell would you let me sleep that long? Second of all, how freaking slow are the maids at this place?”

“It took us a couple hours to get here. I had to get you…ah, situated—then checked in with Aiden. I slept for about five hours and now, here we are. Aiden’s just gotten a lead, so I figured it was time to get you up and moving.”

“Shit,” I mutter, sipping my coffee tentatively to test its temperature. The sugar content and milk are almost perfect.

I blink up at him, surprised he can make a cup of coffee this good.

“Don’t worry—it’s not as bad as it sounds.”

“I’m such a dunce. I’m so sorry, Blake. I never should have put you in that position,” I say, biting my lip.

“It’s no big. Really. We’d just be getting going now, anyway.”

I close my eyes and ignore the thumping at the back of my head.

“You said—you mentioned Aiden has a lead?”

“Yeah, if