Page 42 of False Confidence

With a backward glance to make sure Jasmine was still sleeping, he clutched the phone to his chest to muffle the vibrations as he walked into the living room to answer the call.

“Hey.”

“Good morning.” Maggie sounded as awake as she always did. Liam was a morning person, but normal morning people weren’t Maggie.

Liam stopped in the kitchen and sandwiched the phone between his ear and shoulder so he could fill the electric kettle for tea. Though he would be climbing back into bed with Jasmine the second he was off the phone, to keep a closer eye on her, there was no way he’d be able to fall back asleep. “Why are you awake so early?” he asked, stifling a yawn.

“We have a cat,” Maggie said by way of explanation. “We’re lucky if she lets us sleep past four. She’ll be napping on your dad as soon as we’re actually ready to get up, but it is what it is. What’s up?”

“Jazz is sick.”

He heard a rustle of covers, as if Maggie had sat up suddenly. “Shit. Is she okay? What’s wrong?”

Liam explained how he’d woken up to find her throwing up and in pain, trying his best to keep the panic from his voice. “She says this is normal, but it can’t be, right? Tell me she’s not dealing with this every fucking month?”

Maggie sighed down the phone. “Not every month. It used to be, but with her birth control, she only gets her period every few months. But it’s always this bad. And her doctor is useless, but she won’t find another one. She’ll be—” She cut off just in time for Liam to hear his dad shouting in the background:

“Stop biting my toes, you feral little monster. You’re going to make me spill your mom’s coffee. Here you go, love. Who’s on the phone?”

“Thanks. It’s Liam. He has… a friend staying over who’s sick. Do you want me to pick stuff up so you don’t have to leave her?” she asked, speaking to Liam again, and Liam breathed a sigh of relief. He could’ve called his moms or asked his dad if Maggie was busy, but that would have required substantially more explanation. Liam had no problem with any of them knowing there was something between him and Jasmine, but that was probably a conversation he should have with her before his dad—her boss—found out.

“That would be amazing, thank you. I have zero idea what she needs, and she’s fast asleep again.”

“It’s cool. This won’t be my first emergency Target run. I’ll probably be there about ten. I’ll bring breakfast.”

“You’re a lifesaver. I owe you.”

“Not this time. Just look after her, okay?”

Liam poured himself a strong cup of tea and grabbed his Kindle from the coffee table, then settled in beside Jasmine, watching the rise and fall of her chest. The pained expression never left her face, and Liam’s Kindle stayed untouched on the nightstand.

It was like someone was stabbing her in the uterus with a blunt axe, repeatedly. Jazz groaned, burrowing into the pillow. The very, very soft pillow… Oh shit, she was at Liam’s place.

She forced herself to sit up through the pain. How long had she been asleep? She bled through her pads like crazy on the first day of her period. She was going to ruin his bedding. Fuck, fuck, fuck?—

“Hey, it’s okay. Breathe, darling.”

Jazz jumped, clapping a hand to her chest and immediately wincing at the movement. How had she missed him sitting beside her?

“What do you need?”

“Bathroom,” Jazz croaked. Liam jumped over the bed—slowly, as if trying not to shake the mattress too much. Her throat was like sandpaper. Bathroom, water, and, depending on how she felt after that, maybe food.

Liam took her arm and helped her off the bed. She felt steadier than she had when she’d woken up and had to run to the bathroom to throw up. The pain was there, but she wasn’t as at risk of doubling over.

“Do you need me to come in?” Liam asked as they paused at the threshold of the bathroom, not a shred of embarrassment on his face. Shit, he’d helped her put her fucking pad on, hadn’t he? Jazz’s own dad had refused to buy pads or tampons for her and Rose when she lived at home.

“I think I’m okay,” she managed, holding onto the wall.

Liam nodded, but didn’t look entirely convinced. “Shout if you need me, okay? I’ll be right here. I set everything on the counter for you.”

Jazz mustered up a grateful smile and hobbled into the bathroom. When Liam said everything, he really meant everything. There were several packages of pads on the counter, in her preferred brand, the tampons she favored when she wasn’t bleeding as heavily, wet wipes, and a pack of her favorite comfy underwear from Target in black.

He’d called Maggie, clearly.

Jazz grabbed a pad, a clean pair of underwear, and the wet wipes before all but collapsing on the toilet. She would kill for a bath, but she was definitely too weak. Maybe after some food.

She changed her pad and underwear, thankful she’d only bled through a little. And even more thankful she’d taken her favorite turquoise thong off before bed. It wouldn’t be as bad if she knew when to expect her period. But it just showed up every few months like a clingy, unwanted ex who couldn’t take a hint. At least it followed the same pattern when she did get it, and it didn’t last too long:

---