Page 62 of I Blame the Alcohol

Cody

I wake up to the sound of someone choking.

The second I realize Stella’s warm body is no longer against me, I’m on my feet in an instant. My eyes take a moment to adjust to the darkness as they do a sweep of the room, coming to a stop on a form huddled on the far edge of the bed.

“Stella?” My feet get tangled in discarded clothes as I make my way over. The frantic breathing starts to slow as I draw closer, a pale and shaky hand waving me away.

“Go back to sleep. It’s… it’s almost done.” Stella’s eyes are closed, her voice weak and trembling. Even in the darkness, I can make out the dark groves underneath her eyes.

“Can I do anything to help?”

The mattress dips with my weight as I sit beside her, staying close enough to comfort but far enough that we aren’t touching.

Stella shakes her head, “I feel better now. Sorry for waking you.”

Pushing off the bed, she walks over to her closet and starts pulling out clothes. I frown, glancing at the time blinking on Stella’s alarm clock.

“It’s not even 4:30, Stel. Where do you think you’re going?”

“The gym.”

“We went to bed two hours ago.” The furrow between my brow deepens, “And are we not going to talk about the panic attack that just happened?”

Stella smirks from across the room, “Pretty sure we were in bed for a lot longer than two hours, Ellsworth.”

“That’s not the point, O’Brien.” I scrub a hand down my face, wishing my brain cells were more awake for this conversation. “You are deflecting again and that’s fine. But you are not going to work out with only two hours of sleep. That’s how you get hurt.”

Ignoring me, Stella makes a beeline for the bathroom. I race over and plant myself in front of the door.

“If I want to go to the gym, I can go to the gym. It’s my life and this is my house.” She goes to step around me, but I deflect it with a small shift to the left.

“Stel, listen to me. You are exhausted. You are in no shape to push yourself right now.”

Stella shoots me a glare that would have lesser men aborting mission.

“Get. Out. Of. My. Way.”

I lean down until we’re nose-to-nose.

“No.”

Her nostrils flare, an angry flush spreading over her features. I watch the frustration make its way down Stella’s naked body, her peaked nipples and clenching abdominal muscles momentarily distracting me.

“Come back to bed with me.”

My request startles her, so I take the opportunity to press further.

“We’ll hit the gym later. Come back to bed, Stel.”

Her eyes squeeze shut as she shakes her head, “O’Brien’s don’t go back to bed. We push through. With no pain there is no improvement.”

It sounds as if she’s quoting White Goodman fromDodgeball, but I know she’s just echoing one of the many lessons her father ingrained in her. It wasn’t until I met Jonathan that I realized that’s where Mo gets it from as well.

“There is no improvement to be made right now. You’re not taking the easy way out. You’re taking the smart one.” I keep my voice soft and gentle, hoping it will soothe the edges of her internal war.

“If I take this morning off, who is to say I won’t do it again?”

I smile, leaning forward to brush my lips softly against her forehead.

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