Page 81 of Dr. Single Dad

But it’s not okay. I feel like my insides are on the most terrifying roller coaster ever and I’m standing, naked, having to endure a death-ride inside my own body. Everywhere hurts. Everything churns. I can’t remember ever feeling this cold.

“Water,” I reply.

Someone holds a cup to my mouth. I try to rinse the foul taste away.

And then black.

I’m vaguelyaware of a bright light being turned on and then off again. I groan. This is the worst hangover of all time. Where am I? I might remember being bundled into the back of a car. Have I been kidnapped? What’s the last thing I remember?

I must be dreaming. Or maybe I fell asleep in front of the TV and this is all a weirdly vivid dream?

“I’m just taking your temperature,” a voice that sounds a lot like Dax says.

Yes, definitely dreaming.

“Dream Dax,” I say, smiling as I feel the warmth of his fingers on my face. I try to open my eyes, but they seem sealed shut. “You’re so dreamy, Dream Dax.”

I feel something in my ear. It’s cold and hard and hurts deep in my head. “Ow,” I cry out.

“Sorry, baby. Just keeping an eye on how hot you are.”

“Dax is hot,” I say. “Sooo hot. And his bum…” I sigh at the thought of Dax’s bum. “And I think he loves his daughter now. Which is…” I bring my bunched fingers to my lips and make a chef’s kiss.

Back to black.

I wake up inside an aviary.All I can hear is tweeting. Why on earth did I sleep with birds? I open my eyes and it’s bright white and I don’t know where I am. Is this a hospital? It’s not Eddie’s dorm. I start to push myself up on the bed, but arms encourage me back down.

“Just rest.”

I turn my head and scream when I come face-to-face with Dax.

He smiles at me like I just kissed him on the mouth. “Hey. She’s back.”

I glance around and realize I’m back in my room in Dax’s flat. Not in Exeter. Not in an aviary. I’m in London.

“What happened?” I shift on the mattress, trying to sit up.

“A vomiting bug?” he suggests. “The flu?” Then he shrugs, like he has no clue.

“Did you actually graduate from medical school?” I ask.

He chuckles, and I almost smile until the movement threatens to split my head in two.

“You need to drink water. You’ve been out of it for thirty-six hours, but?—”

“Wait, how did I get here? I was in Exeter.”

He laughs again. “You really don’t remember any of that?”

I squint, trying to squeeze the memory from my mind.

“Eddie answered your phone when I called to check the train was on time. I was going to pick you up from the station, since Mum and Dad came over to see Guinevere and could watch her. Eddie explained you were sick. She sounded worried. Said you weren’t making sense and she was considering calling an ambulance.”

I shake my head. I don’t remember any of this.

“I drove down to check on you.”

I push up on the mattress, headache be damned. “You drove down? To Exeter? In the middle of the night?”

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