You’ve Been There How Long?
Dahlia
Why can’t I hear the fan? I always need it on in order to sleep…
My eyes pop open. “It wasn’t a dream.”
“No Dahlia. It wasn’t a dream.” Vex is still sitting in the chair next to the bed, only instead of a baseball game, there’s football on.
“How long have you been sitting there?” The bowl of popcorn is empty and so is his glass.
“A couple of hours.”
Hours. I fell asleep for hours! And he’s been there the entire time, watching over me.
“Are you ready to eat a little something?”
Am I? My mind feels a bit more stable than before, even if last night is still missing. The nausea has abated, but there’s a vast crater in my stomach. “I think so.” But an urgent need makes itself known.
What am I going to do? Will my legs even hold me up as I walk over there? The blanket has thwarted me every time I’ve tried to move it .
What am I going to do? Ask for help. Every part of my body blushes. There’s no way I’m asking the sexiest and scariest man I’ve ever met to help me to the bathroom. Nope. I’ll die first.
That sentiment doesn’t have quite the same effect now that it almost happened to me.
What am I going to do?
“Are you feeling worse? Your face is all flushed.”
You could say that, but it’s not what you think.
“I should check your temperature, but Barb didn’t leave a thermometer.”
He’s going to make me say it. Seriously. Out loud.
Vex reaches into his pocket.
“No.”
He freezes.
“Ijustneedtogotothebathroom,” I mutter as quietly as humanly possible.
The phone slips back into his pocket.
Shouldn’t he be almost deaf from working at a club and listening to insanely loud music all the time?
“The bathroom is through there.” He points to a door a few feet from where the bed is.
Those few feet could be a dozen miles as tired as I am. Can I do it? What do I do if my body is incapable of taking me where I need to go?
Baby steps.
Just take it one step at a time and see what you can do.
The first challenge is this lovely, warm but exceptionally heavy blanket. Will my jelly arms work this time? It’s been hours. How long does it take for this drug to get out of my system?
My bladder screams, leaving me no time to think about the problem. I reach for the blanket and hope for the best. “Why is this so heavy?” My hands work, but it’s a challenge lifting what should be easy.
“It’s a weighted blanket.” He reaches out and helps me lift it away, careful not to touch a single part of me. How can anyone think this man is bad ?
The t-shirt is twisted all around my legs, exposing way more pasty white thigh than I’ve shown in years.
“Do you need me to carry you?”
I hope not. That would just be the icing on the cake. “I don’t think so.”
He stands up and steps back, giving me space, but close enough to reach me if I should fall.
Scooching over in a shirt without showing anything more than too much thigh—which is already too much thigh when standing next to a man who probably lives in the gym—is the first challenge. My body wobbles a bit, but it’s easy enough once my legs slip over the side of the bed and my toes touch the smooth, dark floor.
You’ve got this.
All you need to do is push up off the incredibly comfortable bed and stand up. You do this every single day.
One.
Two.
Three… The world spins and my head throbs.
“Got you.” Vex’s hands grip my shoulders. “You’re okay.”
“I’m not okay. This isn’t okay. This will never be okay.” Why did I just shout in the face of a man that’s trying to help me? “Sorry.”
“No. You’re right. Everything about this is wrong. The—”
“But I shouldn’t take my anger out on the person who’s trying to be kind to me. I’m sorry.”
Vex doesn’t respond.
Did I really expect him to? “Thank you. I think I can make it now.”
His hands slip away, and I feel their loss. Not because I waver on my feet, but because they settle something in me.
“Holler if you need help.”
That’s not going to happen. I’ll crawl out of the bathroom rather than have him come in .
Impossible. His bathroom is slicker than the bedroom. There’s a blend of glass, stone, and metal all in various shades of gray, so dark it’s almost black. The metallic tiles in his shower set the mood for the entire room.
It’s hard to believe someone actually lives in this space. It should be on the cover of some magazine.
Though beautiful, who would want to live in such a cold, hard place?
A man that crushes bones with his bare hands…
“I got you some more water.” Vex stands up as I step out of the bathroom a few minutes later.
There’s a closed bottle sitting on the nightstand. “Thank you.”
“Are you ready to try out some food?”
My stomach gurgles for the first time without the rolling pain of nausea. “Food sounds wonderful.” I slowly make my way back to the bed. A sigh almost escapes as my muscles relax into the comfortable bed.
“What would you like?”
That’s a good question. What does one eat after they’ve been drugged and had their entire reality turned upside down? How am I supposed to pick something when I don’t know what’s going on—
“I’m in the mood for a steak and baked potato. Does that sound good to you?”
Steak? “I like steak.” It’s not something I bother with often.
“Good. I’ll order some.”
“You’re not going to ask me how I like mine cooked?”
“There’s only one way to cook a steak.” He lifts up the tablet on the bedside table after cracking open the water and handing it to me.
“Oh really?”
“If you’re not eating it medium rare, you’re eating it wrong.”
He has a point.
The little smirk on his face tells me he knows it.
Men. I lean back and close my eyes to rest a little after all that activity.
“Drink your water first, and then you can rest until food arrives. ”
My eyes want to shut more than I want to drink, but I lift the bottle to my lips. Does anyone actually say no to Vex?