Page 69 of Hot Damn
“Hmm…” I can’t form words, my brain is too busy trying to work out where I am and why I hurt so badly.
“Cam? Are you okay?”
Beckett.
Memories come rushing in.
We’re at his house.
In his bed.
My eyes pop open only to find the room dark. “What time is it?”
“Just after five. Do you need more pain meds?”
“Yeah, I think so.” The throbbing in my hip matches the one in my head. “I’ve got a headache now too,” I murmur.
“You haven’t had enough fluids. Your body is trying to repair itself. You’ll need to stay hydrated to make that easier.”
“Can I have a glass of water?”
“Hang on, there’s one on the bedside but don’t move. I’ll get it.”
The bed dips when Beckett gets out and I wonder when we ended up in bed together. I’m still groggy from sleep and pain and while I can remember where I am, what happened, the finer details are hazy.
“Here. Let me help you sit up and hold the glass.”
“I’m not a child,” I mutter.
“No, you’re definitely not. But you are injured and sore and you’ve been moaning in your sleep for the last couple of hours.”
“Oh.”
I feel chastised when I’ve done nothing wrong. Although his reasons for helping make sense and I let him guide me upright.
The water isn’t cold, but it’s cool enough to soothe my dry throat. When I’ve had my fill I lean back against the hand cradling the back of my head. “Thanks. I’m good now.”
“Not quite.” I hear a pop and then he says, “Hold out your hand.”
When I do he shakes two pills into my palm then quick as I can blink, he puts the bottle of pills on the side table and picks up the glass of water again, pressing it against my lips, urging me to drink.
“I need to put the pills in my mouth first.”
“Oh, sorry. Whit has problems taking meds so I taught her to take a mouthful of water first, then tip her head back and drop them to the back of her throat. Makes swallowing them easier when they’re right where they need to go.”
I’m not sure I’m following what he says but I take a drink then tip my head back.
“Now open your mouth and drop the pills in,” Beckett instructs while placing his fingers beneath my chin to keep my head back.
Doing as I’m told I’m surprised at how easy it is to take the meds. Not that I have trouble doing it the usual way, but still, his trick is ingenious.
“Want more water before you go back to sleep? You’ve only had half a glass.”
My stomach feels rumbly. I know it’s because I didn’t eat much dinner at Nat and Chase’s, and I’ve been popping pills like candy since we left Whitney’s school.
What I want, although not comfortable asking for, is toast. If I’d gone home with Mom and Dad, it wouldn’t be an issue. I’d just get up and go make myself some but I’m in Beckett’s house, under his care, and I don’t want to be more of a burden than I already am.
“What?” He points a finger at my face and circles it around. “What’s that look?”
