Chapter Twenty-Six
A BRIGHT LIGHT BULB GOING on and shining through my eyelids brings me back to the land of the living and forces me awake. I squeeze my lids shut tighter, trying to block it out.
“What the fudge …,” I say, my voice sleep-rough and barely there.
“You awake?” Ian asks.
I crack one eye open. He’s wearing a t-shirt and shorts. It’s dark outside.
“I am now, fool.” I close my eye and try to fall back to sleep. My head is killing me.
“The discharge instructions say you need to take these pills every six hours.”
I open an eye again and find him standing there with his palm up and a glass of water in the other hand. There are three pills waiting for me.
Sitting up gradually, I wince at the pain in my skull and the burning in my arm. Youch. Fighting cougars is painful. “What are they?” I ask.
Ian sits down on the edge of the bed and hands the pills to me. “Antibiotics and pain meds, I think.”
“You trying to slip me something so you can take advantage of me?” I ask before throwing them into my mouth and chasing them down with the water.
He grins. “I notice you didn’t wait for my answer before you took ‘em.”
I shrug and hand him back the glass. “Whatever. Take advantage of me if you want. I’m too tired to fight you off.” I close my eyes and try not to scowl too hard over the pain the lump gives me when I’m lying down again. Turning my head to face the wall only partially relieves my misery.
“You in pain?”
“What do you think?” I ask.
“I feel bad.”
That makes me open my eyes. I flip my head over to the other side so I can look at him. “Why would you feel bad?”
“Because this is my fault, and I apologize for that.”
I reach up and slap his arm. It’s not a very powerful slap, but it’s the best I can manage right now. “Shut up. Don’t you dare apologize.”
“Why not? If it weren’t for me, you’d be your regular self and not sporting a scarred up arm and a lumpy head.”
I blink slowly a few times, letting that image settle into my brain. “Thanks for that description.”
“You’re welcome.”
“But even though I’m now hideously ugly, I’m still not accepting your apology.”
“Why not?” He sounds cranky.
“Because you never should have given me one in the first place. This wasn’t your fault. Plus, I have no regrets, so … yeah. Keep your apology. Use it on someone else.”
“You have no regrets.”
“That’s what I said.” I close my eyes and roll over onto my side, facing away from him. “I’m going to sleep, so unless you’re here to rub my back, you can leave.”
There’s silence for so long I think he’s left me and I begin to drift off. But then I feel his hands on me.
“You’re pretty cool, you know that?” He’s rubbing my shoulder. It makes me tingle.
“Yeah, I’ve heard that about me before.” My words come out all mumbled. I sound like I’m drunk.
“When I first met you, I thought you were a pain in the ass. All high maintenance and shit … stuff, I mean.”
“That’s nice.” My mind is spinning very slowly, slowly, slowly. His words and his hands are working some kind of magic on me. Maybe the pills too. I feel like I’m falling into a dream world.
“But you’re really not. You’re actually smart and funny and someone a person can count on when stuff gets real.”
“Thasss meee,” I say lazily. “Fugging superhero. They call me Wonder Bitch.” I giggle at my new name. I could totally see me in spandex with a cape and a big letter B on the front of my chest. I’d be in a bustier, à la Wonder Woman, naturally.
“You’re not a bitch. I think you’re actually kind of a marshmallow under all that noise.”
I lift my arm as high as I can and wave it in his direction. “Go ‘way. I’m sleeping.”
His hands leave my back, and the bed shifts. Something heavy and warm is behind me now. I realize just as I’m drifting off again into la-la land that it’s Ian. He’s lying beside me and his arm is over my hips.
Or maybe I’m just dreaming.