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“No.” Thank the Gods for that—but I did feel raw inside.
“Good,” he said. “Because we’re still training today. You thought drinking would get you out of it?”
“Drinking got me out of an insufferable Council dinner at Cresthaven,” I muttered. “I assumed you canceling again would get me out of training.”
“I see. So, because I had to cancel one time, despite the fact I’ve been training with you every day for a month, you went ahead and decided to establish a pattern?”
“Rhyan,” I said, voice scratchy.
“Lyr?”
“Just…don’t talk to me. For, like, ten more minutes. Should be easy for you.”
He huffed in annoyance, rising from the couch. “You’re dehydrated. Drink your water. I’ll make tea.”
“I want coffee,” I said with a groan.
“Oh, I know you do,” Rhyan called from the kitchen. Water ran as he rummaged around my cupboards, moving around glass bottles of spices and metal boxes full of assorted teas I never bothered to make. “I’ve seen you in the mornings.”
I groaned again in annoyance.
“If this is going to work, partner, you need to listen to me. Chain of command is in effect—even in your apartment, even hungover. First, you’re going to drink your tea. Settle your stomach and rehydrate your body. And then we’re training. And then, if I think you do a good job, you can have coffee.”
“First coffee, then soturion training,” I whined.
“Let’s start with how well you handle your tea.”
“Fine,” I said, closing my eyes.
When I opened them after possibly falling back asleep, Rhyan was sitting next to me on the couch, one arm around my shoulders helping me sit forward, his free hand holding a steaming hot mug of tea under my nose. I glared at the offending drink.
“It doesn’t smell like coffee.”
“That’s because it’s tea,” he said slowly, like he was speaking to a child.
I grimaced. “I ordered coffee.”
Rhyan laughed.
“You’re a terrible server.”
He laughed harder. “You’re fun when you’re hungover.”
I responded with a moan of pain.
“Come on, partner,” he said, voice gentle now. “Be a good girl and drink up. That’s an order. I put ginger in there for you and some moonleaves. I promise, it will settle your stomach and make that headache go away.”
“Fuck,” I muttered as my head pounded. “Fine.” I put my hands around the mug, feeling its soothing warmth rush over me as I took a small sip.
Rhyan smoothed my hair back behind my shoulders, his calloused fingers brushing the loose strands sticking to my neck from my morning sweat or from throwing up or…who knew at this point. I stilled as his fingers brushed against my neck again. He froze, our eyes meeting, like he only then realized what he was doing, and he pulled his hand back to his lap.
“Tea helping?” he asked.
I narrowed my eyes at him but nodded, starting to take bigger sips. “What time is it?”
“Eight.”
I wrinkled my nose. “So early.”
