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Not your business, Will.
She smacks her lips together, peels her tongue from the roof of her mouth and cringes as she swallows.
“Here, drink this.”
I hand her the glass, and she gives me a grateful smile.
“Thank you.” She swallows half the contents and sets the glass on the nightstand. “You didn’t happen to get the license plate of the truck that ran me over, did you?”
“Afraid not.” I lean into her and place my hand on her forehead. “How are you feeling?”
“Like the walking dead.” Her eyes narrow. “How long have I been asleep?”
I give a low, slow whistle. “You’ve had one hell of a night, Khloe. Tossing and turning and moaning for hours on end.”
“Hours?” Her gaze goes to the closed curtains, a hint of morning sun peeking in through the cracks.
“It’s eight in the morning,” I say.
She presses the heels of her hands into her eyes and rubs. “My God, the last thing I remember was lying down on the plane. I have no idea how I got here.”
I sit down next to her on the edge of the bed, and she sways toward me as the mattress dips. “I brought you here, put you to bed and have been waking you every four hours to give you ibuprofen.”
“You have?” she asks, her eyes big.
I rake my hands through my hair. “Is that so hard to believe?”
“What I can’t believe is that I threw up in front of you.”
“Again, you mean?” I say, hoping to coax a laugh out of her. I don’t.
“Yeah, again,” she groans. “I haven’t been sick like that since I was—”
“In the back seat of Granddad’s car?”
“Ugh.”
“Projectile vomiting. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Yeah, it’s quite the gift.” She covers her face, hides behind her hands. Suddenly she pulls them away and her gaze flies to her chest. Her shoulders drop from her ears when she finds herself still in my button-down. At least it was dry when I put her to bed, and I didn’t have to suffer the visual of her gorgeous full tits, nipples poking through the dampness.
Oh, the hardship.
Seriously though, her body is, to sum it up with one word...banging.
As my blood starts to leave my brain, she tugs the sheet up to her chin.
“Ugh, I need to change into some clean clothes.”
“I didn’t want to put you to bed in a dirty shirt, but I wasn’t about to undress you.” I put my hand over my crotch. “You know...with me being fond of my nuts and all.”
That brings a smile to her face, for about two seconds. “Did you get any sleep at all?”
I give a casual s
hrug, but her concern for me is appreciated. “I dozed.”
“I...feel horrible,” she says her voice so soft and sincere it tugs at something inside me. “I hope you don’t get it.”
