Page 84 of Something Good
I’ve had better days but I’ll be alright
Why don’t you come over tonight and I’ll cook dinner?
You can cook?
Come over tonight and find out
A home-cooked meal and a night in with Sammy actually sounded pretty damn good.
I have to run home and feed Goldie first
You can bring her over if you want
I smiled. The man was in love with my dog, and I had to admit, that was a pretty serious turn-on. Dmitri had done nothing but complain about her shedding.
I’m in. I’ll text when I’m on my way
See you tonight
By the timeI arrived at Sammy’s loft, the small ache at the back of my eyes had grown into a full-blown migraine, complete with nausea and light sensitivity. Goldie had ridden with her head in my lap all the way to Sammy’s condo as the headache progressed from mildly annoying to an absolute monster in just the twenty minutes it had taken to get there.
I found a spot on the curb down the block and sat in my truck for a moment, contemplating sending him a text and headinghome, but I really did want to see him. Maybe if I took some ibuprofen and ate something, I’d feel better.
Goldie and I made our way into his building and up to his third-floor condo, my head pounding and my stomach churning with each step. I winced as I knocked, then leaned into the door frame, trying to keep myself upright.
He opened the door with a grin that immediately transformed into an expression of concern as he caught sight of me. “Baby, what’s wrong?”
“Migraine,” I mumbled, trying to keep it together. He gestured me inside the condo, but I didn’t take time to look around, instead keeping my eyes on the floor, avoiding the light.
“What can I do?”
My nose caught the scent of something cooking—something Italian, I thought—and my already churning stomach protested in earnest. “Bathroom. Bathroom now!”
“First door on the right.” I took off down the hall, barely getting the lid up before emptying the contents of my stomach into the toilet. I heaved a few more times until there wasn’t anything left, then flushed and lowered the lid, squeezing my eyes shut and resting my sweaty brow on the cool surface. Sammy gently placed his hand on my shoulder. “I brought you some water.”
I held up my hand but kept my eyes closed against the light, and he got the hint, nudging the glass into my hand. I took a couple of small sips, knowing from experience that gulping water right now would only result in another round of puking. I held it out for him to take, then laid my head back down.
“Tell me what else you need. What can I do?”
“Lights off,” I mumbled and relaxed slightly when I sensed the room darken. Cautiously, I opened my eyes to find him sitting on the floor in front of me. With the little bit of light coming in from the hall, I could see his eyes were wide withconcern. “Sorry,” I muttered, feeling wretched for ruining our date.
“You have nothing to be sorry for. Do you want to lie down? Would that help?”
“Yeah. And maybe some ibuprofen.”
He helped me up, and we made our way across the hall into what I assumed was his bedroom, with Goldie following close behind. He left the light off, so I didn’t get a chance to see anything, but I was beyond caring about anything other than finding relief from the pounding in my head. He pulled the covers back, and I climbed in, fully clothed, only stopping to remove my shoes. Puking always made me feel overly hot, and the cool sheets against my skin provided relief.
I heard steps retreating and returning before I felt the bed dip as Sammy sat on the edge next to me. “I have ibuprofen for you.”
I sat up, groaning as my head protested the change in position and my stomach threatened to revolt again. When it felt like it was settled enough to proceed, I took the pills he offered and swallowed them with some water. I handed the glass back to him, then laid down gingerly.
“Sorry,” I mumbled again.
“Shh. Stop apologizing. I just wish you’d called. We could have rescheduled.”
“Wanted to see you. Got worse on my way over.”
I felt the bed shift and put my hand out, trying to find him in the dark. “Don’t go.”
