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“What are you referring to; the migraine or the attitude?”
“Both.”
“Then you’re shit out of luck with the attitude, because this is who I am. Better get used to it because I’m not changing for anyone, especially not you.” A sudden sharp stabbing pain has me groaning and clutching my head. “Anything else?” I ask, wanting him to leave so I can get undressed and dive under my covers. Of course, Camden being Camden just sits back down and makes himself comfortable on my bed. With his back against the wall and his legs stretched out, he looks at me.
“Put your head on my lap, Asia.”
Squinting in the semi-darkness, I scowl at him. “I’m not giving you a blowjob, Camden!”
He laughs again, a deep chuckle that shakes the bedframe with his mirth. “When you wrap your mouth around my cock, I want you to be fully into it, Asia. Not about ready to throw up the contents of your stomach.”
“Oh, shut-up.” It’s a lame comeback, but seriously my head’s about to explode. I’m sure if I really concentrated I could come up with a cuss about how small his dick is, but I have the feeling he’s the type of guy to prove me wrong by stripping off. I really don’t want to see his dick. Nope. Not on my list of wishes today.
“Just lie down, rest your head on my lap. I’m not going to make you do anything but be still.”
“No! You can’t come in here after goading my best friend and then expect me to curl up in your lap like some… somelap dog.” God, I’m on fire today. I’d roll my eyes if it didn’t hurt.
He sighs. “If it’s any consolation, he got a good left hook in. Fucking hurt actually. Didn’t know he had it in him, but I’ll allow that one. Next time I won’t be so lenient.”
“And now you’re threatening him…Jesus. Can you not drop the gang leader act for one minute? I’m tired and my head hurts and I’m done for today, okay?”
“Just lie the hell down and let me help.”
“You don’t help anyone,” I mumble, groaning as my head bangs painfully.
“Asia!”
“Fine.” If this is what it takes to get him to shut up so I can deal with this goddamn migraine then so be it. I can feel guilty tomorrow.
Scooting further back on the bed, I curl my legs up onto the mattress and turn on my side then gingerly rest my head on his lap. His thigh muscles are firm, warm, but not very comfortable. I groan.
“What’s up now?”
“Hard,” is all I can manage to utter. My fucking head is about to explode like some zombie’s brain in a bad 80’s B-Movie.
“Yep, definitely hard,” Camden grinds out under his breath, but I’m in too much pain to come back with anything remotely funny. He leans over, bringing his chest nearer to my head as he reaches for a pillow. He smells good. Not of the cloying cologne that he usually douses himself in but of soap and freshly laundered clothes.
“Here,” he says, gently cupping my head with his hand and placing my pillow beneath it. “Better?”
“Better.” I shift slightly to get more comfortable and find my hand sliding towards his leg. Thinking better of it, I move to pull it away, but Camden’s hand lands on my shoulder.
“It’s okay, Asia. I’m not worried about you trying to jump me. Just be comfortable.” His voice is low, soothing, and a small part of me is wondering what the fuck is going on. Is he here being…nice? Or am I having some twisted, fucked up hallucination because my brain is fried by the migraine. When his fingers slide up and down my bare arm, I know this isn’t an hallucination. This is fucking happening.
“Rest. I can stay until curfew.”
“You’ll miss dinner…” I mumble. Frankly, I’m not sure why I care that he’s not going to get any food, but the words slip out anyway.
“I’ll survive.”
“That’s what we do isn’t it, survive?”
“Yeah, that’s what we do…”
Camden runs his fingers lightly up my arm, gliding them across my shoulder blade leaving a trail of fire over my skin. He begins to gently massage my temple, pressing lightly before stroking his fingers through my hair.
“Camden, what are you doing?” My voice is soft, low, uncertain. I’m so tired. Fucking exhausted, but also weirdly alert. It’s a strange feeling. Mix that with a‘I don’t know what the fuck is going on’vibe and we’re in unchartered territory.
“When my mum’s migraines were so bad that she could barely see straight, I used to do this for her too. It helped a bit… I can stop if it’s annoying?” he asks me. His hand stilling.
“I don’t understand you,” I mutter, turning over onto my back so that I can look up at him. He’s swathed in semi-darkness, his expression unclear. “One minute you’re acting like the biggest arsehole on the planet and the next like someone who is, well,alright. I feel like I’m on a fucking rollercoaster with you not knowing whether I’m going to plummet to my death, or coast along. Either way the ride is rocky and makes my head spin.”
“What can I say? I like to keep you on your toes.”
“Can you just go back to being a tosser, so I can hate you easier?”
Camden chuckles softly. “Tomorrow. Right now, I’ll stick to being alright.”
We don’t speak again, and after a few minutes of his gentle caresses, I find myself drifting off into sleep. Maybe it’s a combination of feeling so shit that my brain has forced my body to shut down, or perhaps it’s the soothing feeling of Camden’s fingers stroking my hair combined with the painkillers I took. Either way when I wake up a few hours later, Camden has gone and so has my migraine.
