Page 19 of Claiming What's His

I need Shelby.

I drive straight to her house when I don’t find her at work. It takes longer than I like for her to answer the door and when she does, she looks like hell. She’s squinting and her beautiful face is pinched with bags under her eyes. Her robe is tied haphazardly, barely covering her silk pajamas and her hair is a tangled mess of waves.

“What’s wrong, baby?” I ask, tilting my head to the side to look at her through the crack in the door.

“I have a migraine,” she says, her voice sounding tired. “I’m not up for company, King.”

“That’s good because I’m not company,” I tell her softly, gently pushing the door as she steps to the side.

“Come on in,” Shelby says snidely as she closes and locks the door.

I frown as she looks around outside before closing the door and securing the deadbolt. When she turns around, I pick her up gently, carrying her down the hall, as I try to figure out which is her room. There are only a few doors, and all are open so it’s relatively easy to find.

“What are you doing?” she asks, snuggling her head against my chest. The need to make this better and take care of her burns inside of me.

Fuck.

“You need to be laying down,” I grumble, using my hand to turn off the lights in her room. I settle her onto the bed, touching her face gently. “Have you eaten today?”

“Food would be a bad choice right now.”

She lies back, her arm draped across her eyes as I pull the blankets up around her body. “I’ll get you something to drink so you can stay hydrated,” I murmur, walking out to the kitchen and grabbing a glass of water. I take it back to her and assist as she gingerly sips it. It’s not much help, but it’s something.

“There’s my girl,” I murmur. “Getting dehydrated right now won’t do you any favors.”

I set the glass on her nightstand as she settles back down into her pillow. She looks so miserable lying there that I can’t stand it. I go across the hall into the bathroom. I find a small hand towel on a hanger and then throw it in the dryer that is set in a small closet in the hallway. “One thing about it, I’ll know where everything is in this place is before I’m done,” I grumble. I put the button on high heat, and push start before heading back to Shelby. I sit gingerly on the bed, not wanting to disturb her.

“Do you need another drink?” I ask, reaching for the glass.

“It makes me feel like I want to hurl,” she mumbles, and I hastily set it back down.

“Maybe we will just leave that on your nightstand.”

“Good idea.”

“Do you have medication for migraines?”

“I already took it.”

That makes me feel marginally better. I don’t like seeing her like this.

“Where’s the pain radiating from?” I ask, needing to help her.

“Behind my eyes.”

“I’ll be right back.” I get only a grunt in response as I leave.

When I bring the warm towel back, I fold it before climbing onto the bed next to her. I place the warm towel on her forehead. She pulls on it until it’s over her eyes. She lets out a heavy sigh that is mixed with pain, but somehow encouraging at the same time. I feel useless, but I need to touch her. I gently start to play with her hair, breathing her in.

“Why are you here?” Shelby croaks out.

“I missed you. I tried to call, but you didn’t answer.”

“My phone is broken.”

“How did your phone break?” I ask, immediately disliking the idea of her being without a phone.

“It pissed me off, so I took a hammer to it.”

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