Page 65 of Have To Be Mine

“I’m aware.”

“And you look like you’re about to pass out.”

“I’m not going to pass out. I just need a minute.”

“Krista, you don’t look good.”

“Thank you. Be a gentleman and get me a cab please.”

I pressed my fingers to my temples, trying to will away the pounding headache.

He had his phone out. I hoped like hell he was getting me a ride. I was suddenly ready to drop. The dehydration was making my head spin. The exhaustion was making my legs shake. I closed my eyes and counted to ten.

I opened my eyes to find him standing in front of me holding two bottles of water. He twisted the cap off one and held it out to me.

“Drink,” he said.

“Did you get me a ride?”

“Yes. Drink the damn water.”

He sounded angry. I brought it to my lips and drank. I downed half the bottle in one go.

“Slow down,” Dash said, his hand coming up to gently push the bottle away from my lips. “Sip it.”

I wanted to argue and tell him I knew how to hydrate myself. I’d survived worse conditions than this. I didn’t need him playing nursemaid. But the truth was, I did need it. I was suddenly very aware I was not in a good way.

21

DASH

Iwas exercising every ounce of willpower by not saying a single word about the fact that Krista Hedley looked like a tomato. A pretty tomato, but damn, she was the kind of red that made you wince just looking at it. The kind of red that radiated heat from three feet away.

Her red cheeks and shoulders made my skin hurt. The look on her face told me she was about thirty seconds from either passing out or emptying the contents of her stomach onto the street. She was severely dehydrated.

She’d been running on empty for hours and had been too stubborn to acknowledge it. I should have said something earlier, but she wouldn’t have listened to me. I assumed with all of her military training she would recognize the signs and take care of herself.

I was wrong.

She lowered the water bottle and took a shaky breath. “Thanks.”

“How long have you been feeling sick?”

“I’m fine.”

“That wasn’t what I asked.”

She pressed her lips together, which told me the answer was probably since this afternoon and she was not going to say it out loud. She took another, slower sip of water.

“The car’s coming,” I said.

She nodded and didn’t yell at me, which told me more about how she was feeling. The fact that she just nodded meant the stubbornness had been temporarily overridden by survival instinct. And that meant things were dire. I needed to get her hydrated. And fed.

The car pulled up. I put my hand on her back, barely touching, just enough to guide her toward the door. She didn’t swat my hand away, which was another clue.

The ride back was quiet. She drank the second water bottle slowly with her gaze out the window.

“You were about to hurl,” I said.