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Hm, maybe sun and sand could wait for an hour or two. I still kind of wanted to sink my teeth into his ass because, my oh my, it was edible.
Ash was already waiting for me in the shower.
Round two it was.
I was glowing like a freaking Greek goddess. I didn’t normally sunbathe because the sun in Vegas was just too strong, but here, with a cool breeze, I could lay out in the sand forever. Unfortunately we only had two days before my designated sick days were over, and we’d already spent them walking or laying on the sand, exploring new restaurants, and enjoying the lux bed and bath in our hotel room. We were now packing our few new things to head back to Vegas, and I was almost scared to do so.
We’d reached a new level in our relationship, and God it felt good to just be with him while nobody was judging. Now we were heading back to the town where there was baggage and history that put a stain on things. We’d have to get over it eventually though.
When we got all our stuff in the car, I saw him rubbing at his head, fingers digging into the spot of his forehead above his eyebrows.
“You ok?” I asked, looking at him over the car.
He dropped his hands as if it had never happened.
“Yep,” was all he said.
Ash got into the car and dug his headache medication out of his pocket, popping the top before he dropped it in his mouth and swallowed it dry.
“Headache again?”
“I’ll be fine.” He brushed it off, as if I didn’t know that he got migraines from hell.
“Why don’t I drive?” I offered. “That way you can sleep off the worst of it.”
“I’m fucking fine, ok?” he barked back, which had my eyebrows rising in jarred surprise.
“Excuse me for caring,” I grouched back.
He just sighed and put the car in reverse as I got buckled.
We sat for more than an hour like that, both stubbornly silent because that was a total douche canoe move he’d just pulled. After that first hour though, he pulled over and we sat on the side of the freeway like that for another minute.
“Things are starting to get foggy and black around the edges,” he admitted, his voice resigned and angry.
“Oh, so now you’ll let me drive?”
He just scowled at me and got out of his seat, slamming the door behind him. I didn’t miss the way he swayed, though, gripping the car so he didn’t fall over.
Shit, it must have been bad if he was willing to admit any kind of weakness.
Swallowing my pride down, I got out of my seat and worked my way around the back where he had both palms resting against the top of the car and his eyes closed, eyebrows pinched in pain.
“Ash, I want to help you,” I murmured, pressing my hand against his back.
He growled, smashing his hand against the roof.
“This isn’t how I wanted this to go,” he whispered, voice so soft and pained in juxtaposition to how angry his body language was.
“Ash, babe, I don’t mind driving. I really don’t.”
“But that’s not how this is supposed to be. I don’t need a caretaker. I’m not some invalid that needs someone to take care of me. I’m supposed to take care of you.”
I snorted.
“Give me a break! As if I’m some girl who wants to be taken care of. That’s not how partnerships work. In your team, there was a chain of command, but this, between us…you are not my boss.”
He sighed, hands going back to his head to try and rub away the pain there.
