Page 105 of Necessary Time

Colin’s bodywas warm as an electric blanket and it made me want to throw up. I tried to kick out from underneath him, but moving made my head throb and a groan tumbled out of my mouth loud enough to wake the dead.

Instead I just woke Colin.

“You’re alive,” he mumbled, rolling over to let me out of bed.

“Is that what this is?”

Forcing my eyes open, I found a glass of water and some pills on the nightstand.

“Are these for me?” I closed my eyes because the sun was brighter than a thousand watt light.

What time was it?

“They are.”

I blindly reached for the tablets and swallowed them down, taking half the water with them. My mouth tasted like acid and the Sahara desert, and I wouldn’t have minded crawling into a cave and never coming out.

“Everything hurts,” I whined, falling back into bed and pulling the sheets over my head. They helped shield the light, but it was hot so I shoved them off again, kicking my feet like a toddler.

“Is this your first hangover?”

I made a displeased noise.

Colin patted my shoulder, then the bed shifted as he sat up. “Consider this a lesson in not mixing your drinks, Wesley.”

“I don’t even like whiskey,” I groaned.

“No one likes it.” Colin stood up, and I listened to him rustle around his clothes. “I’ll go make you some eggs. You have to eat something.”

“Shouldn’t I have another drink?” I asked, rolling toward him and reaching out without opening my eyes.

“Normally, no.”

I pried an eye open, getting a good look at his bare torso and the waistband of his underwear. He’d put on a pair of sweats that hung a little low, showcasing that soft swell of his hips which was one of my absolute favorite parts of him.

“Please.”

“Just finish your water,” he said. “I’ll be back.”

He was back, almost immediately, which felt wrong. I must have fallen back asleep as soon as he’d left which, honestly, was a welcome relief from the jackhammer in my head. The pills had started to work, and the throbbing had eased enough for me to sit up without wanting to hurl.

Colin set a plate down beside me on the bed with bacon and eggs and a plain slice of toast, then he handled me what I hoped was a Bloody Mary.

“You think vodka is better than whiskey?” I asked, taking a tentative sip. I’d seen Bloody Marys before, but I’d never had one. I was pleased to find I didn’t hate it, so I took a bit of a bigger drink before setting it on the nightstand so I could eat.

“It’s not enough to do anything.” He sat down beside me on the bed.

“Nothing for you?”

“There were only four eggs left in the fridge,” Colin said. “Two for you and two for Grayson.”

“Did you cook him breakfast?”

“Yeah.” He stretched his legs out, arranging himself with his back to the headboard. “I had some toast while I was cooking, don’t worry. Just eat.”

That was easy enough.

I polished off the eggs and bacon in record time, taking the toast and the whole drink with it. Colin read something on his phone while I ate, a tense expression on his face that I’d have to ask about. But before I could, he dropped the phone into his lap, screen down.