Joint Business by Megan Matthews

Author:Megan Matthews
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Megan Matthews

CHAPTER 14

CYRUS

I raised my bowling ball of a head higher, trying to get it stationary on top of my neck as it followed gravity and continued to drop. The black spots were cloudy as my vision slowly dissipated, and I blinked, helping the gorgeous face in front of me to come into focus.

Imogen wore a tight frown as she watched me warily. A second passed and then another and then a third before she nodded once and lifted a small water bottle to my lips.

“Take sips of this if you can,” she said, trying to tip the bottle back to make it easier.

My head tumbled like I tried to hit a split at the bowling alley.

“Whoa, don’t go too fast,” she said, sounding like she was talking to a child. Memories of her cleaning my wound and then using a long needle to stitch it closed resurfaced.

I groaned, taking the water from her, but rather than using it to drink, I rolled it across my forehead for coolness. Except the water wasn’t cold. It was barely room temperature, and the surrounding air was muggy and humid. “Did I pass out?” I asked, my throat sick and dry.

She pinched her lips together, and I saw my answer, but it didn’t make the words any less embarrassing. “Yes, right at the end as I was tying up the last suture, but only for like twenty seconds.”

I groaned again, but this one sounded more like a moan as a deep headache set in. Probably from the bowling pins crashing together every time a car drove by where we were sat in the park.

She motioned to the water bottle, and I managed the hand-eye coordination to bring the bottle to my lips and slowly pushed it back so a few drops of warm water hit my tongue. They were the most glorious warm water I’d ever drunk, and if I had better control of my muscles, I would’ve finished the bottle.

“Well, that’s embarrassing,” I said as soon as I moved the bottle from my lips. “I swear stitches have never made me pass out before.” I never had stitches at any point in my life, but I wasn’t a wimp ass, so it was safe to say that if I had, I would never have passed out.

No way would I be able to look Imogen in the eyes again.

Rather than laugh, she splayed her hand on my knee and then tipped the bottle closer, reminding to take another drink. “Cyrus, you’re dehydrated and have had significant blood loss. You’re excused for this one incident.”

Fire burned my arm, and I ignored the shooting pain as I adjusted to get a look at the work Imogen did. There were so many stitches I didn’t stop to count them, but they all lined up in a neat row. When I finish looking, she rubbed a cream over top and slapped a bandage as gently as possible against the three-inch line.

“You did a great job. These have to

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