Page 116 of Twisted Collide

“You don’t feel good, so I’m tucking you in.” He moves to the cabinet and opens it, rummaging through the drawer until he pulls a T-shirt out. “But first, put this on and get comfy.”

I reach out and grab the soft cotton from him before slipping my sweater and leggings off.

Once I’m in his shirt, I slip under the sheets, and Dane then tucks me into his bed, taking great care to make sure I’m fully covered and comfy.

A feeling of comfort washes over me, and although my stomach hurts, I feel happy and at peace.

“What can I get for you?”

“I’m PMSing.”

“Okay, well, I have plenty of experience with this. So let me handle it.”

“Um—”

“Molly,” he tells me.

“Oh, got it.”

“Yeah, she’s always had bad periods, so I’m an expert. I’ll be back. Just close your eyes and rest.”

I try to do what he says, but my mind is spinning a million miles per minute.

Is this really happening?

Here I am, a miserable wreck, and the man I’m supposed to be casual with is tucking me into his bed to make me more comfortable.

Shouldn’t he be telling me to leave?

Isn’t that what men do?

I wouldn’t know. I’ve never had a boyfriend before. Obviously, I was no virgin when I met Dane. I’ve never had anything serious other than a college boyfriend, but he never would have tucked me into his bed when I was ill.

I close my eyes again, but my bone-tired body is not able to stay awake.

I’m not sure how long I’ve slept, but the sound of footsteps and rustling of plastic has me opening my eyes.

I blink a few times to clear the haze and find Dane standing beside where I’m sleeping.

“I brought you some necessities.” His hands reach out, and he pulls back the duvet, slipping a heating pad over my stomach. It’s already turned on and feels amazing.

“I also brought you some medicine and things.”

“Things?” I smile.

He works his jaw as he hands me the bag, and I look inside. “I didn’t know if you needed pads or whatnot or which you liked, so I brought—”

“The entire CVS store?”

“Hey, I stayed away from the nail polish and makeup section. It is a big black hole I never venture into unless Molly is really depressed.” He grins. “I also made you hot chocolate with marshmallow inside, as advertised at my front door. Secret recipe.”

Right on the nightstand, I find a huge, goofy ladybug mug with steaming hot chocolate and marshmallows. The man didn’t leave anything up to chance. I take a sip and close my eyes. It’s heaven. And he’s right. It doesn’t taste like a regular hot chocolate.

My brows knit as I try to figure out the secret ingredient. Cinnamon? No. No. It tastes like . . .

“Melted caramel candy.” He helps me out, his voice hovering close by, his addicting male scent mixing with the cocoa smell. “Don’t tell anyone. As I said, secret recipe.”

“Now you’ll have to kill me.” I open my eyes, smiling.

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