My stomach drops, and I squeeze my eyes tighter. Why do I have to be so fucked in the head when a fantastic guy is mumbling his heart out to me? I should say something,anything, but I just come up empty. Is that saying something in itself?!Fuck, act asleep. My brain screams at me that that is avoidance and quite immature. Hell, I know it is, but I just have absolutely nothing,NOTHING, that I can say right now that won’t sound as absurd as the intrusive thoughts running rampant through my brain.
Jaxon sighs, scooting from beneath me to lie on his side as he scoots down the pillow to come face to face with me. I feel his eyes on me as I concentrate on appearing as serene as possible. His fingers tuck a fallen hair behind my ear.
“Give it up, Sweetheart. I know you’re not asleep yet. You’re not snoring.”
I crack a scowl and squint through one eye at him to show him my disdain for that statement, catching his amused expression as he nibbles on his bottom lip and holds back a snicker.
“I do not snore.”
“Only lightly when you are really, really tired. It’s breathy and cute.”
Shit.
“Cute, huh?”
“Super cute. It’s also how I know I did a good job.”
“So it doesn’t happen often then.”
Jaxon guffaws, and a bubbly laugh erupts from my chest, lightening the mood. His fingers trail across my jawline as he watches me closely, a light in his eyes that quells so many of my fears.
“You sure do keep me on my toes, Cupcake.”
I poke his chest.
“Uh-uh, don’t you ‘Cupcake’ me and get any ideas. I am all ‘Cupcaked’ out for the night. I close my eyes and nuzzle my face into the pillow while enjoying the sound of his deep chuckle. I nailed that on the head becausethatsounded full of ideas.
“Alright. I’ll put those to bed too. Can’t help that your sass piques my interest.”
“Too many words…”
Another deep chuckle tickles my cheek as his soft lips press gently against it.
“Sleep tight.”
“Mmmm…” I hum in agreement, soaking in the feeling of his knuckles gently brushing back and forth in a languid pace along my jaw.
“So pretty.”
???
Mid-morning, I’m in the middle of the History lesson about World War II when the sudden urge to toss my cookies hits, and I break out in a sweat.No, no, no!I cannot be getting sick!
“Gabby, can you take over reading? I need to step out for a minute. Finish the chapter, then Aiden, you lead the end of chapter questions. Okay?” I look at two of my very responsible students with hope, and they nod back enthusiastically. I nod and slip from the room, practically running for the bathroom at the end of the hallway. Summer’s door is open, and I notice her head fly up from her paperwork as I run by. I barely make it to the first stall before my breakfast decides to make its appearance.
“Good gracious, Holly! I haven’t seen you peel by my room like that, like ever. I knew something wasn’t right.” I hear Summer pulling paper towels and running water from one of the sinks.
A cold, damp towel is thrust in front of me as the last heave finishes. Hopefully, it’s all out. I reach to grab it and say thanks when another wave of nausea has me bending back over the rim and emptying my gut again. Hell, are my intestines coming up with it?
“I can’t think of any students out with a nasty virus. What’d you eat?”
I grab the cold paper towel and press it to my forehead, dabbing and not caring if I screw up my foundation. Glancing down, I check to make sure I’m not wearing puke.
“Graham crackers. I thankfully wasn’t in the mood for much else.”
“That sounded like you threw up breakfast burritos.”
“Ewww… Don’t talk about food right now.”
