Page 56 of Capri

I stare at her from my position on the bathroom floor. “Ever thrown up medicine before, Cols? Ten out of ten, do not recommend.”

Nothing like tasting bitter acid.

“Okay, drama. This is supposed to stop the vomiting. It’s either you take a chance on the pill and possibly throw it up or stay sick for the rest of our trip.”

I know she means well, but my head is throbbing and my stomach is churning. The thought of even swallowing water sounds like too much of an ask.

I rock back and forth with my head between my knees. “Fine. But if I puke up acid, I’m leaving it for you to clean up.”

She grins and hands me the capsule. “Deal.”

This sucks. There’s no nice way to put it. Food poisoning on vacation in Italy is in the top ten worst predicaments to be in. However, food poisoning on vacation in Italy while having the hottest sex of your life is the topfiveworst predicaments to be in.

I finally let myself be an Italian free bird and wind up with diarrhea of the mouth.

Everything hurts and my stomach wants to die.

I swallow the pill and lift myself to stand, ushering Collie to hand me my ‘just in case’ bowl.

“You should go lay down,” my know-it-all, beautiful sister tells me.

I turn and cut her a sharp look. “Gee, I never thought of that.”

She shrugs, laughing me off and heading back into the hotel kitchen.

I feel disgusting. I’m pretty sure I smell like sewer water. I haven’t brushed my teeth, and my hair looks like a dog took a shit and rolled in it.

Maybe I should shower? It might make me feel better.

Before I can make it to the bathroom, a knock echoes from the living area, pausing my steps.

I hear Collie’s voice in the distance, but I can’t quite make out the one on the receiving end.

I poke my head around the corner at the same time Collie calls, “She’s back here.”

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Sickness be damned, I haul myself into the bathroom and lock the door, bracing myself for embarrassment.

“Capri, you have a visitor!”

Panic invades. “I’m indisposed. Sorry! Tell them to check back later.” I couldn’t think of anything else to say. I saw the man who spent this past week buried inside of me, and I reacted.

He can’t see me like this.

Sick with food poisoning and vulnerability.

Nothing says ‘wanna fuck’ like vomit breath and a homeless aesthetic.

“Capri.”It’s him.

I scan the bathroom, realizing quickly it’s Collie’s bathroom I fled to, not mine. Nothing can save me from this now.

Taking a deep breath, I open the door and come face-to-face with brown locks and eyes like cypress, filled to the brim with concern.

“Oh, sweetheart.” Jones sighs.

I can’t help it, I could cry. I’m the worst sick person ever. “Hi.”

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