Page 76 of Swim To Me

“Thank you,” I whisper, feeling my bed jostle, the duvet being pulled back and a solid, warm body press against mine.

“You’re welcome,” Grey whispers back just as softly, placing a kiss to the smooth ball of my shoulder.

When a wave of fatigue threatens to pull me under, I’m unable to fight it. My migraine is slowly subsiding with the help of the cool gel strip and painkiller, but I still feel ridiculously weak, my body heavy.

Slinging my arm over Grey’s trim waist, I turn into the safety of his body, breathing in his signature mint and chlorine scent.

“Thank you for coming to my rescue,” I breathe, already slipping into the clouds before I can listen for his reply.

When I awake, it’s to a flip in my stomach and bile in my mouth.

I rip off the duvet, sprint to the bathroom and empty more of my stomach. I didn’t even think that was possible with my previous bout of vomit, but water and spit fill the basin at a rapid rate.

Hands gently pull the strands of my hair into a makeshift ponytail, keeping it out of my face while I groan, shivering all over.

“Get it all out.”

I shiver again, burying my head in my hands at the knowledge Grey has just watched me vomit my insides out… Not attractive in the slightest.

“Can you stand?”

Nodding, I wipe my mouth and flush, pushing myself up onto my wobbly legs.

“Do you want a shower running?”

Through watery eyes, I peer up at Grey. “Do I smell?”

“No, gorgeous.” He rubs his hands up and down my arms soothingly. “Just thought it might make you feel a bit better.”

“I don’t think I can stand for that long. I just want to lie back down.”

“Come on then.”

“Let me brush my teeth first.”

Grey chuckles softly behind me, hands clamping over my satin encased hips to keep me steady, while I vigorously scrub at my tongue. I glance back at him in the water spotted mirror, noticing his bed hair, his lack of shirt and…

“Oh my god,” I moan around my toothbrush, swiping at the dark racoon style eyes staring back at me. “Look at me!”

“Look at what?” Grey pinches my wrist, stopping me from rubbing my eyelids too hard.

I spit, gesturing wildly to my reflection. “That!”

“All I see is my gorgeous girl.”

I harrumph, but really my heart is stuttering, suddenly warm all over.

Reaching with shaky hands off to the side, I grab my bottle of makeup remover, dousing a couple of cotton rounds and begin to wipe away the mascara flecks buried deep within the depths of my tired eyebags.

“Here. Let me.”

I spin slowly in Grey’s hold, shutting my eyes and lips when he gently glides the cotton pad over my face reverently. It feels so domestic, and I wait for the feelings of doubt to creep in, for my brain to start spiralling, shit scared.

But nothing except contentment and happiness comes bubbling to the surface.

Once my face is bare, I drag Grey back to bed, half-heartedly fluffing my pillow so I can sit up.

“Feeling any better?”

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