The mattress dips as he sits near the end, leaving a safe amount of space between us.
“How are you feeling this morning?”
I press my palms against my forehead before running my fingers through my hair.
“Honestly?” I wince. “Like hell. That Tylenol you brought is definitely going to come in handy. My head ispounding.”
His brows pinch together, like he hates the thought of me being in pain.
“Damn,” he sighs, sympathy filling his tone. “I’m sorry.”
He leans forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees.
“I don’t really get headaches when I’m hungover,” he continues. “I just get sick to my stomach. Thankfully, I emptied my guts out this morning, and now I feel a million times better.”
Hold on… What?
“Wait… you got sick this morning?”
“Yup,” he says, tone casual.
“What?” I sit up a little straighter. “I didn’t even hear you.”
“I didn’t come in here,” he clarifies. “Didn’t want to wake you.”
My jaw hangs open as I stare at him.
The same man who had me pinned up against the wall last night didn’t want to bother waking me… How is it possible for him to be so dominant, then heart-achingly tender, all within twelve hours?
“Oh my God, Owen,” I mutter, feeling terrible. “Where did you go?”
“It’s no big deal,” he continues with a shrug. “I threw up in the trash a couple times, took it out so the suite wouldn’t smell like death, then jumped in the pool and went for a swim in place of my morning shower. The water was surprisingly cold—it was nice.”
I blink in shock, my brows lifted as I listen to the eventful play-by-play of his morning.
“And then I went to grab food,” he finishes with a handsome grin. “And now I’m here.”
I can’t help the laugh that slips past my mouth.
“Wow,” I finally respond, shaking my head. “Sounds like you’ve had a very productive morning.”
He chuckles and nods.
“I guess you're feeling better now, though?”
“Oh yeah,” he replies with a smirk. “I feel like a brand new person.”
Trust me, I can tell.
You look even better than you feel right now.
“Must be nice,” I mutter, instead of telling him how hot he looks right now.
He flashes me a reassuring smile. “I’m sure you’ll start feeling better once you drink some water and eat.”
“God, I hope so,” I groan, glancing down at the white comforter.
A heavy, unavoidable silence falls between us as I pick at a loose thread on the blanket, my heart beating faster by the second.
