Page 103 of The Art of Almost Losing It
Graham shoves me against the wall. “You need to get it together.”
“I’m not gonna survive this. You can’t make me go hiking.” I start to sob. “I’m not built for stressful outdoor situations. You can’t treat me like your prisoner. I am a human being, and I need to be inside.”
“For god—”
“Graham,” his mom says from behind him in the dim hallway. “Could you help monitor the twins? They’re going to burn something down. They’re roasting marshmallows.”
“Sure,” he says, his eyes not leaving mine.
“I’m sober,” I tell his mom when Graham’s gone.
“Look, Dani…” She hesitates and looks over her shoulder, worried. She drops her voice. “Is everything… okay?”
“No, it’s not—I mean…”Be a good guest,I hear my mom chastising me. “Of course it’s fine. I can hike. I walk all over New York City. Sure, it’s on concrete, and I can stop for a latte whenever I need one, but I’ll survive.”
“No, I mean… with Graham. Is he treating you well?” she asks softly. I can barely hear her, she’s talking so softly.
“Yeah. I mean, he’s Graham, so he’s not going to, you know, be that nice. No billionaire is.”
His mom looks worried.
I’m not sober enough to do this.
“My parents really like him. My mom worships him. Gran is still waiting for a—” I clear my throat. “Never mind. Graham’s a good sport, though. He’s the first guy I’ve dated that I was like, ‘Huh, he’s actually not a serial killer.’”
“Okay,” his mom says, sounding concerned. “As long as he’s being nice.” She hugs me, suddenly. “Thanks for bringing Graham here.”
The party is winding down when I get back into the great room. Claire is half asleep on Ryan. Frank reaches for Graham’s mom’s hand.
I plop down next to Graham, wrap my arms around his shoulders, and nuzzle his neck.
“Paris, Paris, Paris,” I hiss in his ear, pretending like I’m play-kissing him.
“I think Dani’s tired.” He stands up, dragging me with him. “I’ll show her to one of the guest rooms.”
Hannah looks up at him blearily. “You don’t want your hot girlfriend in your bedroom?”
Frank’s eyes narrow.
Graham is tense. “I thought you didn’t want people sharing a room unless they were engaged.”
“Well, yes—” Frank and his mom look at each other. “But I think it’s a little different with you…”
“That’s not really fair to Ryan. Don’t bend the rules for me,” Graham argues.
“It’s because you’re old,” Bridget jokes.
“Also, you bought this house, G-dogg,” Sean adds. “So I think you and your girlfriend can share a room.”
It takes a minute to work its way through my rum-punched brain. Share a room? With my kidnapper? What if he wants to have sex? I haven’t shaved. Anything. At all. Anywhere.
This is a disaster.
“No, really, it’s fine.” I try to struggle away from him. “I can sleep on the floor. I’m used to it, actually.”
“You sleep on your floor?”
“At Svensson Investment.” I hastily correct myself. “Those all-nighters, you know.”
