Chapter 13
Josephine
A familiar sense of unease greets me the moment I open my eyes. It’s not panic, exactly, but something’s not right.
I’m in my own bed, alone. It feels too big, and the room feels too empty without at least one of my guys here with me.
I reach out and search my nightstand for my phone. Squinting at the too-bright screen, I blink away the sleep and register the time.
4:31 am.
It’s too damn early. With a yawn, I climb out of bed, but every move makes my body ache.
A few days have passed, but it’s possible that I’m still sore from all the escapades of Kendrick’s homecoming.
Thankfully, I don’t have to leave for class until midmorning, so after I empty my bladder, I’ll crawl back into bed and get a few more hours of sleep. Maybe I’ll feel better once I’m rested.
Wincing, I shuffle into the bathroom and turn on just one light.
The second I sit down to pee, I know.
The burn grows in intensity the longer I urinate. Dammit. I groan, recognizing the telltale signs.
I’ve got a fucking UTI. Ouch. And ugh.
I sit on the toilet longer than necessary, desperate for any measure of relief from the burning urges. Eventually, though, I force myself up, wash my hands, and splash cold water on my face.
Once I’ve dragged myself back to bed, I pick up my phone, considering my options.
I don’t want to panic Kylian. Because he will panic.
I refuse to wake up Nicky. He’s still recharging, and in an effort to encourage him to rest, we’re each in our own room tonight.
He’s really struggling—with the pain, with the aftermath of the run-in with the photographer, and with the guilt and trauma of Kendrick taking the fall for him.
The last thing I want is to keep him up late or leave him feeling isolated while I’m snuggled up with the other guys.
So separate beds for a night or two is our best option.
Decker’s a nonstarter. Despite all the progress we’ve made, I would rather ride a bike in a wet bathing suit with a UTI all the way to the drugstore than ask Decker for help. Probably more of a me problem, but still.
That leaves one person.
Jojo: Are you up? It’s not an emergency, but I need help.
The knock on my door comes less than sixty seconds later.
“Jojo? You in here?”
The door opens silently, and Kendrick peeks in. When he finds me buried beneath the covers, he quickly enters the room and shuts the door behind him. The second he turns and really looks at me, he falters.
“What’s wrong?” he demands, striding to the bed like he’s running the ball down the field.
He’s shirtless, which is a sight to fucking behold. His silky athletic shorts rest low on his hips, putting his expanse of hard, defined muscles on full display. Even in my current state, I can appreciate the beauty.
Weakly, I hold out one hand. “I think I have a UTI.”
“Shit,” he murmurs, coming to stand beside the bed. “Does it hurt? What do you need?”
My heart flips in my chest at the care and adoration in his voice. This man. This beautiful, kind, sweet grump of a man.
“I love you,” I whisper when he takes my hand and sits on the edge of the bed.
“I love you, too. Now tell me what you need.” He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “Would pain meds help?”
I nod, dropping an elbow to the mattress so I can sit up.
“Stay down,” he murmurs, gently pressing on my shoulder while simultaneously whipping out his phone. He combs his fingers through my hair as he scrolls.
“The Internet says you’ll need an antibiotic. Do you have any allergies?”
I try to sit up again—the keyword being try.
“Woman, I swear to God,” he snaps. “Lay down and let me take care of you.”
Ugh. My heart.
And ouch. My urethra.
Curling up on my side, I close my eyes and blow out a slow breath. “No allergies. A week of antibiotics and a few days of pain meds usually does the trick. Lots of water and a heating pad will help, too.”
“Kyl’s probably got some antibiotics on hand. He keeps us well stocked. Do you want me to see what I can find, or do you want to talk to a doctor?”
I sigh. “Of course Kylian would have drugs on hand. But I should probably talk to a doctor just to make sure I get the dosage right.”
Kendrick rises to his feet, keeping his attention fixed on me.
For a long moment, he hovers, one brow raised like he knows I’m tempted to sit up again or challenge him.
Finally satisfied that I’ll stay down, he nods.
“Good girl. Do not move from that bed. I’ll sort out an appointment, and I’ll round up a heating pad and pain meds.
You need food, too. You can’t take them on an empty stomach. ”
He kisses the top of my head and strides to the door as urgently as he strode in.
“Wait. K?” I call after him.
He pauses with his hand on the knob, his eyes still fixed on his phone.
“Don’t wake the others. Locke needs sleep…” I trail off with a yawn.
“I got you, Mama.” He nods and peers up at me. “Hang tight while I get what you need.”