Page 50 of Kill Your Darlings

“Okay.So, then the stuff you take so you can keep the meds down?”

It was beyond me to explain.“It’s all in my rescue bag on the dresser.”I closed my eyes, surrendered to the monster.I wondered if Finn could see my head pounding from across the room.

He retrieved the bag, disappeared into the master bath, and returned with a glass of water and a pill.“Anti-nausea first.”

I shoved up on elbow and he pressed the pill, warm from his hand, into my fingers.I put the pill under my tongue.“It’ll dissolve.I don’t need the water.”My stomach quivered at the very idea and dropped back to the pillows.

“Okay, once that kicks in, you can take your pain meds.What else?”

I swallowed dryly, praying the Zofran wasn’t coming right back up.“Nothing.Really.Thank you.You should get back.You’ll be missed.”

His tall shadow stood over me, motionless as he thought.“You want to get under the blankets?”

I did.I was cold.But the logistics of completely undressing were impossible.

“No.I have to take my contacts out.”I added wearily, “As soon as I can sit without throwing up.”

Finn turned without a word and disappeared into the master bath again.The light came on through the partially open door.I heard his washing up.He returned with a bottle of saline, a clean contact case from my travel kit, and tissues.

I pushed up again, wearily.“It’s a full-service rescue mission.”

“This is what we train for.”

I took saline and tissues with shaking hands.

He must have felt the tremor, because he said, “Did you want some help?”

That woke me a little.“Help?No offense, but—”

“Byron’s worn contacts since he was eight, so I actually do have some experience here.I have to turn the light back on, though.”

“I’m relieved that you recognize that fact.”

He breathed a quiet laugh, the mattress dipped as he sat beside me on the bed.“I’m turning the lamp on now.”

He reached over, the click was loud between us, golden radiance spilled into the gloom.I grimaced, closed my eyes.

“Sorry.It’s just for a sec.”His breath was light and cool on my face, his fingers warm as he tilted my chin up, palm steady beneath my jaw, guiding me toward him.

He said, and there was the faintest thread of humor in his voice.“You have to open your eyes.”

I lifted my lashes.Our gazes were level.There were tiny gold flecks around the irises of his eyes.I’d never noticed before.

“Look straight ahead.”

It was hard not to flinch—that’s the instinct when someone’s reaching toward your eye.

I swallowed hard, held very still.My head shook a little.

“You’re okay,” he murmured.

“That’s not what you said this morning.”

He didn’t move and then his thumb very gently brushed my lower lid down, coaxing the lens out with a rinse of saline and edge of folded tissue.It helped that the tears were back.Jesus.It was like I was melting from the inside out.Wet drizzled silently down my cheeks.

Left eye.Then right.

“Got them,” he murmured.He looked away as I hastily brushed my damp face.He sealed the case and clicked the lamp back off.Darkness fell like the softest of blankets.

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