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“I have clothes you can borrow, Ant.”
August shook his head. “I have pills for my headaches.”
Micah stiffened. “How long have you had these headaches?”
“They started a couple of years ago, I guess.”
“How often do you get them?” Micah’s arms constricted, and tension bled into the air around them. “Are they always this bad?”
“Micah, please, can we just go?” He could feel Micah’s stress, and the more tightly wound his mate became, the harder August’s temples throbbed. “Please?”
“Okay, sweetheart, I’ve got you.” Lifting August as easily as if he weighed nothing at all, Micah cradled him like a child and stalked toward the front door. “Keys?”
“You left them in the truck,” Ian called over his shoulder, his eyes still glued to the screen. “Feel better, August.” He lifted a hand in the air and waved it back and forth. “Thanks for the pie.”
“Dick,” Micah growled under his breath as he carried August out to the pickup. “And you seriously thought I loved that bastard?”
Neither of them spoke after that, and Micah didn’t even bother to turn on the radio as he pulled out onto the main highway. Thankful for the silence, August leaned his forehead against the cool glass of the passenger side window and dozed.
When Micah turned into Meredith’s driveway a half hour later and killed the engine, August didn’t even try to move. His stomach cramped, his muscles ached, and his head pounded to the rhythmic drum of his pulse.
“Ant,” Micah coaxed. “C’mon, sweetheart, let’s get you inside.”
“Can’t. I’m dying.”
“I thought it was just a headache.”
“I lied. I’m dying.” Shifting in his seat, he pulled a single gold key from his pocket and passed it to Micah. “My pill are upstairs in my backpack. Second door on the right.”
“Knock it off.” Exiting the cab, Micah hurried around the vehicle, pulled August’s door open, and unlatched his seatbelt. “Hold on to me,” he instructed as he lifted him into his arms once again. “I see you’re still just as stubborn.”
“Not stubborn,” August argued, but he did as instructed, wrapping his arms around Micah’s neck. “Is Mer here? What time is it?”
“It’s almost eleven, and I don’t see another car.” Moving in long, fluid strides, Micah carried him across the lawn and up the steps to the front door. “Should I call her?”
August thought it over while Micah unlocked the door and set him on his feet in the foyer. “No. She must really like this guy.”
“Go grab some couch, and I’ll get your meds. Do you need anything else?”
Gods, Micah was being so good to him, just like old times, and August was too exhausted to fight against it. “Just some water.”
Cupping the back of August’s neck, Micah leaned down and placed a chaste kiss on his forehead. “Be right back.”
Trusting the guy to take care of him, August kicked his shoes off by the front closet and padded into the dark living room. Then he curled into a fetal position at the end of the sofa and buried his face in a throw pillow.
Logically, he knew a headache, no matter how painful, wouldn’t kill him. When the pressure in his head started creeping past his pain threshold, however, it was hard to remember why he wanted to live.
He didn’t know how long he waited, but he’d almost fallen asleep when Micah whispered his name and prodded his shoulder. “Ant, sweetheart, sit up.”
August groaned in response.
“I know, baby. Here, just take this.” He crouched down beside the sofa and dropped a white tablet into August’s palm. “Just take this, and you can go back to sleep.”
Obediently, August popped the pill into his mouth and took the bottle of water Micah handed him. Once he’d swallowed the caplet, he passed the water back and dropped his face into the pillow again.
“Do you need anything else?”
It sounded like the beginnings of a goodbye to August, but he didn’t want to be alone yet. “Stay.”
