“I’m in the middle of a thought, just a second,” she snaps.
Teagan never snaps. Apart from at the beginning, when I was being a donkey and hurt her feelings. I stand there for a few seconds, debating my options. I won’t have a problem going back to sleep, so I could literally stand here for an hour while she clacks away on her keyboard—and possibly fall asleep while remaining upright—but I’m thinking that’s not going to go over well.
So I do something I’m not proud of but will likely get the result I want, which is Teagan in bed beside me. Not burning the candle at both ends. I take a seat beside her on the couch.
“I swear, Aaron, I’ll be in bed in two minutes. You don’t need to monitor me.”
“I know. I just . . . I need you.”
That gets her to stop with the typing. She glances over at me. “Are you okay?”
“I had a dream about my brother.” It’s not entirely untrue. I did have a dream about my brother, but it wasn’t tonight. Occasionally I dream about him after I see Jamie or talk about Devon. But that was weeks ago.
“Oh, baby.” She closes her laptop and sets it on the coffee table, then shifts so she’s facing me. She runs her fingers through my hair. “Do you need to talk about it?”
I shake my head, feeling like an asshole for manipulating her. “I need you beside me so I know you’re safe.” I send an apology up to heaven, where I’m sure Devon is, looking down on me with judgment over using his death to coerce my girlfriend not to pull an all-nighter.
“Of course. Let’s go to bed.”
She takes my hand, and we head back to bed. She rummages around in her purse in the dark, and I hear the tinkle of pills being shaken out of a bottle. She takes a sip from the glass on the nightstand and slips under the sheets. I slide my arm under her and pull her against me.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you woke up.”
“It’s okay.”
“I promise I’ll be right here beside you the next time you wake up.” She settles her palm on my chest, and I cover her hand with mine.
I fight to stay awake long enough to make sure she does go to sleep, but I suck at staying conscious when I’m lying down. In the morning she’s still tucked into my side. She doesn’t move at all when I get out of bed, and I stand there staring down at her sleeping form.
I want to think this is a onetime thing, but I don’t know if it is.
I glance at the nightstand, where her glass of water sits. And two different prescription bottles. I pick them up and read the names. I have no idea what one is, but it says she’s supposed to take it at night. The other is a name I recognize. Adderall. There were always kids in college looking for this kind of thing to help them focus better. I didn’t know Teagan had any issues with attention, although that probably makes sense if she’s taking these every day.
The bottle is mostly empty, and there are refills on the prescription. I can’t see a doctor prescribing something she doesn’t need. But I’m also the type of guy who doesn’t take Tylenol unless absolutely necessary, so I generally avoid prescription medication whenever possible.
Teagan is still out cold by the time I’m ready to leave for work. Her shift at the Town Pub doesn’t start until later in the afternoon, so I press a kiss to her temple and leave her to get what I’m expecting is some much-needed sleep.
I stop at Boones on the way to the office. I hadn’t wanted to make a lot of noise and risk disturbing Teagan’s sleep, so I skipped out on breakfast and coffee at home. I grab fritters and coffee for everyone and head for Footprint Construction.
I dole out coffees and fritters, and we go over the schedule for the week. We’re working on two different McMansion renos at the same time, and we’ve had to hire a few local guys to help. While Jack doesn’t do much of the grunt work anymore, he does spend a lot of time going between the projects, making sure things are running smoothly, and helping where he’s needed. It means that I’ve stepped into a foreman-type role when it’s me and a few of the younger, less experienced guys.
John, Jack, and Billy take their coffees and fritters to go, leaving me and Dillion in the office. We need to go over one of the plans for an addition, which is perfect because it means I can ask her a couple of questions in private.
“How many projects do you have Teagan working on right now?”
“A few. I can’t even tell you how awesome it’s been having her help. With all these huge renos, we needed someone with an eye for design, and it’s not something anyone local has a lot of experience with.”
“Yeah, she really does have an eye for design.” She rearranged my living room, and now the space looks twice as big. “Can I ask you something?”
“Yeah, sure. What’s up?”
“It’s about Teagan, and it’s kind of personal.”
“Is everything okay with you two?” Dillion’s expression shifts to concern.
“Yeah. We’re good.” I flip a pencil between my fingers, needing to do something with my hands.
The tension in her shoulders eases slightly. “Okay. That’s good. You two seem like a bit of an unlikely pair, but I’m glad you work together.”
“Me too.” I nod a couple of times. “I’m worried about her.”
She stops leafing through her day planner and gives me her full attention. “Worried how?”
I bite the inside of my cheek. I don’t know how much I should or shouldn’t say, but any kind of advice I can get is better than nothing. I tell Dillion about what happened last night and how I have a feeling it’s not the first time.
“She told me she has insomnia sometimes, but I don’t know. I worry that she’s bitten off more than she can chew. She’s working five different jobs, she’s putting together all these design plans, and she’s taken on the entire fall farmers’ market on her own. The last two on their own would be a lot, but with everything else . . . I don’t know. I’m concerned she’s overwhelmed but she doesn’t want to disappoint anyone?” It’s framed like a question, because that seems to be something Teagan might do.
Dillion leans back in her chair, realization dawning. “Oh shit, Van warned me that she’s terrible at saying no, and I’ve been handing her new projects, thinking he was joking.”
“I don’t know if she recognizes that she’s taking on too much. I keep finding her in the living room working on emails first thing in the morning or the middle of the night.” I scrub a hand over my face. “She has a bunch of prescriptions; one is for attention issues.” I don’t want to talk about her behind her back, but I want to see what Dillion knows.