Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 46412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 232(@200wpm)___ 186(@250wpm)___ 155(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 232(@200wpm)___ 186(@250wpm)___ 155(@300wpm)
I frown as she looks around outside before closing the door and securing the deadbolt. When she turns around, I pick her up gently, carrying her down the hall, as I try to figure out which is her room. There are only a few doors, and all are open so it’s relatively easy to find.
“What are you doing?” she asks, snuggling her head against my chest. The need to make this better and take care of her burns inside of me.
Fuck.
“You need to be laying down,” I grumble, using my hand to turn off the lights in her room. I settle her onto the bed, touching her face gently. “Have you eaten today?”
“Food would be a bad choice right now.”
She lies back, her arm draped across her eyes as I pull the blankets up around her body. “I’ll get you something to drink so you can stay hydrated,” I murmur, walking out to the kitchen and grabbing a glass of water. I take it back to her and assist as she gingerly sips it. It’s not much help, but it’s something.
“There’s my girl,” I murmur. “Getting dehydrated right now won’t do you any favors.”
I set the glass on her nightstand as she settles back down into her pillow. She looks so miserable lying there that I can’t stand it. I go across the hall into the bathroom. I find a small hand towel on a hanger and then throw it in the dryer that is set in a small closet in the hallway. “One thing about it, I’ll know where everything is in this place is before I’m done,” I grumble. I put the button on high heat, and push start before heading back to Shelby. I sit gingerly on the bed, not wanting to disturb her.
“Do you need another drink?” I ask, reaching for the glass.
“It makes me feel like I want to hurl,” she mumbles, and I hastily set it back down.
“Maybe we will just leave that on your nightstand.”
“Good idea.”
“Do you have medication for migraines?”
“I already took it.”
That makes me feel marginally better. I don’t like seeing her like this.
“Where’s the pain radiating from?” I ask, needing to help her.
“Behind my eyes.”
“I’ll be right back.” I get only a grunt in response as I leave.
When I bring the warm towel back, I fold it before climbing onto the bed next to her. I place the warm towel on her forehead. She pulls on it until it’s over her eyes. She lets out a heavy sigh that is mixed with pain, but somehow encouraging at the same time. I feel useless, but I need to touch her. I gently start to play with her hair, breathing her in.
“Why are you here?” Shelby croaks out.
“I missed you. I tried to call, but you didn’t answer.”
“My phone is broken.”
“How did your phone break?” I ask, immediately disliking the idea of her being without a phone.
“It pissed me off, so I took a hammer to it.”
“How did your phone piss you off that much?”
“Because it didn’t break when I threw it against the wall.”
“I see,” I murmur, fighting my laughter as I hear pain in her voice. “Alright beautiful, just rest easy. I’ll be right here with you.” I want to press the issue of why she destroyed her cell phone, but with how miserable she is in her current state, I decide to save it for a later conversation.
She grunts as I continue combing carefully through her hair with my fingers. Eventually, her body shifts and curls into mine. I hold her close, listening as her breathing evens out.
I want to stay here, next to her, but I have to get this club shit over with. Once I’ve done that, I can concentrate on her. Shelby needs me and I don’t want to let her down. For the first time in my life, I need someone too.
I need her.
Chapter 15
Shelby
I crack my eyes open slowly, relieved when I can tell most of the headache is gone. There’s just a small residual pain behind my eyes. My bedroom is dark, darker than normal and I sit up carefully trying to get my bearings. I smile when I see my windows have quilts hanging over the curtain rods, haphazardly. King had to be the one to do that, and knowing that he cared that much shifts inside of me and takes root. That’s something a man like Mason would never do. Heck, most men would just close the door and let you hurt and sleep it off. I know because I had a great father, and an amazing grandfather and both men were that type. My mother liked to say her father would close the door and be like out of sight and out of mind.
I glance over at my clock, its only eight. I lay back down wishing I could go back to sleep, but I’m wide awake. I hug my pillow to me as a trace of King’s cologne hits me. I breathe it in deeply. It’s masculine reminding me of being in the mountains. It’s not strong or overwhelming—it makes me feel at ease. I suppose that’s a silly way of putting it, but it’s true.