Jon's Crazy Head-Boppin' Mystery by A J Sherwood

Author:A J Sherwood [Sherwood, A J]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-06-04T22:00:00+00:00

11

I woke up feeling like someone had put me through the meat grinder. Every nerve in my body was overly sensitive from being so open yesterday. It honestly felt like someone had taken sandpaper to every inch of my skin, leaving me raw and sensitive in the worst ways. That didn’t even take into account my head, which throbbed with pain. Just trying to lift my head from the pillow nearly set a migraine off. I whimpered and stopped trying to move.

The bed dipped next to me, a warm hip pressing in against my own. “Jon? Babe, you awake?”

“Did someone get the number of the bus that hit me?” I rasped plaintively.

He chuckled, although it sounded strained. “You’ve been out eighteen hours. I’ve got magnesium, Advil, Gatorade, and Mom’s coconut chicken soup. Any of that sound good?”

“I want to have your babies,” I managed, doing my best to turn over so I could at least inhale the painkillers.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he drawled, the relief obvious in his voice. “And if you’re joking with me, I probably don’t have to worry about calling an ambulance. Alright, easy does it. I’m going to put another pillow behind you, prop you up, yeah?”

He was gentle, I gave him that, but moving still equated torture. It took a good minute to prop me up so I could drink something without choking on it. I downed all the pills together, getting it over with in one shot, because any real movement of my jaw set the pain off in my head all over again.

Donovan only left long enough to go downstairs and microwave some of the soup before coming back up with a tray. It smelled divine, like it normally did. I wasn’t a particular fan of coconut as a whole, but I could eat my weight in this soup.

The tray settled on my lap and I gamely lifted a small spoonful to my mouth. It agitated my head a little to eat, but my stomach clamored for sustenance. In between bites, I looked at my boyfriend, still sitting patiently next to me on the bed. He looked…not as fantastically bright as he had before. A good sign; that meant the thrice-cursed drug had finally worn off and I was back to normal levels. Praise heaven.

Donovan was still worried, angry, but also strangely happy? Why would he be—oh. Dammit. I had not planned to tell him I loved him while drugged to the eyeballs.

“That’s a pretty blush you got going there, babe,” Donovan observed, eyes crinkling up with wicked amusement. “How much of last night do you remember?”

“All of it. It’s not like I was drunk. Just, uh, without my usual inhibitions.” I paused in eating, suddenly feeling shy. It went without saying, but I knew without a shadow of a doubt Donovan would never hold anything I’d said or done against me. That wasn’t what made me hesitate. It was the crap-tastic timing of all of this. Surely me sitting here with an impending migraine wasn’t the best time for a romantic declaration.

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