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“I’ll unpack it tomorrow.”
He comes out into the bedroom and puts his arms around me. “Can I see you tomorrow?”
I nod. “Yep, I’d love that.”
Linc kisses my forehead. “I’ll call you.”
I walk him to the door, then watch as he gets into his car and rides off.
After changing into my nightgown, I trudge to my kitchen and open the pantry and fix myself a bowl of Cheerios one-handed, taking it to the living room where I turn on the television. I’m exhausted. Flying always wears me out. Plus, my shoulder hurts—bad. I look at my watch and see I have another hour before I can take medication.
Then, I remember something. Setting my bowl down, I wander into my bathroom and open the medicine cabinet. I find a bottle of Percocet with Garrett’s name on it. He’d gotten it when he had some dental work done, and it somehow ended up here when I moved. I really should throw it out, as it’s expired, but I bet it would really help me sleep tonight. I shake one into my hand and pop it into my mouth, filling a cup with water from the bathroom sink to swallow it down.
I finish my cereal and the show I’m watching isn’t holding my interest, so I turn the TV off. After loading the bowl and spoon into the dishwasher, I go into my room and just want to crawl under the covers, but my big-ass suitcase is on the bed and now I’m going to have to drag it off one-handed. Guess we didn’t think that through. I could unpack it first…
I quickly throw all the clothes into the hamper, my shoes into the closet, and drag the thing, still open, onto the floor so I can slide into bed.
My thoughts, of course, drift to Lincoln and the amazing weekend we had. I saw a side to him I didn’t think he had, and I think back to the sex. I really want to do it again, but I need to let go of control. He said he wanted to see me tomorrow. For sex? I don’t mind. I think about how he said he has toys and other stuff at his house. Why? Did he bring women over all the time? Using vibrators and stuff on them? Maybe I’m not the only one who has trouble doing that. I’d come so close with him. He definitely knew what he was doing.
My eyes flutter shut, and my whole body relaxes as the medicine makes every pain in my body disappear. I can see how people can quickly become addicted to this and vow to flush the rest down the toilet tomorrow.
***
“Stairway to Heaven” plays, waking me out of my sleep. I blink against the sunlight streaming into my room, pick up my phone to see Lincoln calling, and quickly check the time in the upper corner of the screen: 10:02 a.m.
Did I really sleep that late?
“Hello?” I answer.
“Good morning. How did you sleep?”
I gingerly sit up, careful of my shoulder, and reply, “I slept great. How about you?”
“You sound like you just woke up.”
“You caught me. I did. I must have been more tired than I thought,” I say, yawning.
“Did you stay up late?” he asks.
“I think I went to bed around eleven.”
“That’s eleven hours of sleep,” he says, chuckling. “You must have been wiped out.”
I consider telling him about what I took. “I found some old Percocet in my medicine cabinet and took that. I’m pretty sensitive to drugs, so I think it knocked me clean out.”
He’s quiet for a minute before he says, “Narcotics are highly addictive. Please don’t take that again unless you need surgery or something.”
I smile at his protectiveness. “I won’t. I’m gonna flush the rest today. They’re expired anyway.”
“Expiration dates on narcotics are always premature. The medication doesn’t necessarily go bad, but the FDA wants to discourage continuous use of it due to its addictive nature.”
“Well, aren’t you a walkin’ encyclopedia.” I chuckle.
“Photographic memory. My head is full of useless information.”
“I see that,” I reply, slogging out of bed and into my bathroom. “So, did you sleep well?”
“Not without you next to me,” he says sweetly, and I want to melt into a big ol’ pile of gooey chocolate.
