Page 83 of Rough Ride with the Grumpy Cowboy
The sun rays streaming through the curtain let me know that it’s been morning for a while, and the alarm clock confirms it. No wonder she’s gone—it’s ten AM.
I can’t remember the last time I slept in like this, but I blame the pain medication given to me at the hospital—they’re equal to tranquilizers. I took some after dinner with Ava yesterday, and I don’t remember much after that. I do remember the incredible sex we had in the bathroom though.
A jab of pain sears through me when I try to get out of bed. I knew this leg injury was going to be a hindrance. I wasn’t in this much pain yesterday, and I know I did this to myself. I shouldn’t have tried to be macho and have sex in that position after leg surgery, but it was so worth it. I’d do it again in a heartbeat—hell, I’ll be doing it again soon.
Recalling that the bottle of pills is in the kitchen, I drag myself out of bed, limping all the way to the other room. My breakfast is in the microwave as always, so I decide to eat first before I take the painkillers.
My cabin door slams open just as I’m swallowing my pills, startling me, and they nearly go down the wrong pipe. Ella storms in, completely ignoring me as she rushes to the bedroom. I hear multiple doors open and close as if she’s on a treasure hunt.
“I miss the days when you were too scared to come in here,” I call out.
She walks back into the kitchen, out of breath, her eyes wide and red as if she’s been crying.
“Is everything okay? If you tell me what you’re looking for, I’ll help you search or just tell you where it is,” I offer.
“Is she here?” she asks, her voice cracking.
“Who? If you’re playing hide and seek with Daisy again, this is the last place she would hide,” I answer, wondering why that would make her cry.
“Not Daisy, you fool—Ava. Is Ava here?!” she repeats, a bit louder and more terrified.
I set the glass of water down when I realize that she’s not playing around.
“No, I thought she was with you,” I reply.
Ella gets even more hysterical. “Oh God! She’s really gone.”
“What are you talking about?” I ask, but she’s too busy freaking out to answer me. I approach her and grab her arms, shaking some sense into her. “What do you mean she’s gone?”
“Ava’s bedroom is empty. I thought she moved her stuff here to be closer to you, but it seems not,” she explains, more tears falling down her cheeks.
No! This cannot be. Ava wouldn’t just leave like that, not without telling me.
“Call her,” I demand, trying to think where my phone is.
“You don’t think that was the first thing I tried? Her phone is off,” she replies, then turns to me with an accusing gaze. “What did you do?”
Her allegations don’t sit right with me. “What do you mean, what did I do? Nothing.”
“You must have done something—she wouldn’t leave without telling me unless you did something to upset her,” she insists.
“I didn’t do shit,” I yell, hating that I have to defend myself in the first place.
Or did I?
“What did you guys do last night when she brought you the fruit bowl?”
I think back to how wonderful yesterday was. “We had sex in the shower—“
She holds her hand up to stop me. “TMI.”
“You asked.”
She rolls her eyes at me and urges me to go on. “After that?”
“We cuddled in bed watching a movie, had dinner, and slept,” I summarize before she accuses me of saying too much.
“And?”
