“Jesus, Poppy. What happened?” Evin’s concerned voice sounds from behind me.
“Go away.” I flush the toilet, falling to my butt.
“Not a chance in hell.” He gathers my hair and rubs my back soothingly.
I’m too sick to argue how disgusting it is that he’s witnessing this. My torso convulses as my stomach empties until I’m ready to pass out, laying my head on my forearm, and flushing the toilet again.
“We’re going to the ER.”
“No, the nausea is passing.”
“Baby, something is very wrong here.”
“It’s probably a bug.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, a slicing pain tears through my abdomen and I realize my stomach isn’t empty. Round two isn’t as bad but racks through me until I’m left heaving.
“You’re covered in sweat.”
“Hmmm,” is all that comes out, my eyes falling shut.
No telling how much times passes before a wet cloth is on the back of my neck and Evin’s hovering. “Can I help you up?”
“No.” The simple word stings my throat.
He sits, his long legs trapping my body as his hand runs up and down my back.
“Seriously, go away. This is gross,” I rasp.
“I’m not leaving.”
Another wave of queasiness strikes, but thankfully it fades quickly. Evin continues to rub my back and exhaustion takes over.
“Poppy, you’re not falling asleep on the toilet.”
“What if I get sick again?”
“Do you feel sick now?”
“No.”
“Baby, I’m pretty sure you expelled everything your little body has. In the off chance you get sick again, we’ll get a bucket.”
I scrunch my nose at the thought but have no energy to argue. He gets off the floor and gently raises me. My legs are like jelly, wobbling as dizziness hits and I clutch to his biceps.
“Shit, will it hurt to lift you?”
I shake my head, and he carries me to the vanity. “Be right back.”
He disappears and comes back with a t-shirt. Tenderly, he removes my dress and bra, slipping me into the oversized shirt. The scent of fresh laundry detergent and the softness of the material instantly comfort me. I swallow a few times to help clear my head.
“I’m okay. It’s all passed. I need to clean up.”
His eyes flash with concern, but he helps me down, making sure I’m steady before stepping back.
“You want to set up camp on the sofa or the bed?”
Runner trots in, coming straight to us and circling our legs. Like everyone else in the family, I fell instantly for Darby’s dog. He seemed to feel the same, although he was affectionate with everyone, so maybe he was just an overly friendly dog. It was my idea to bring him home today and give Darby and Pierce more room in their vehicle for the kids.
“Where is Runner most comfortable?”
“He’s a dog, he’ll adapt.”
Everything in Evin’s house is top of the line and the highest quality. His sofa is big, soft, comfortable, and inviting. But since he recently redid his bed with the intent to sleep like heaven, that’s where I want to be.
“Bed, but I need my toiletries first.”
“You okay for me to leave?”
I nod, and he pats his thigh for Runner to follow. Once he’s gone, I grab a hand towel and go to the sink, catching my reflection.
“You are beyond a hot mess,” I huff out, turning on the water.
Evin brings me my travel case, kissing my head softly. “Call if you need me,” he says, leaving me alone
I whip my hair into a sloppy bun and get to work on washing the remnants of my makeup off and brushing the horrid taste away. When I’m done, my color has mostly returned and my stomach is completely settled.
The sheets are turned back and Runner is sitting expectantly, waiting for me by the bed. I climb in and his big brown eyes follow my movements.
“Are you allowed in the bed?” I whisper and he wags his tail, leaping up and nudging in my face excitedly.
Evin comes in with a glass of water and stops dead, scowling. “The beast is smart, he played you. Pierce broke him of the bed habit a while ago.”
I giggle, scrubbing Runner’s neck. “I’m a sucker.”
He sets the water on the nightstand and nudges my hip over to sit. Runner takes a hint and lies down against my other side. Evin’s hand goes to my forehead and then rounds my cheek. “You don’t have a fever and you look better.”
“One-hundred percent better.”
“What happened?”
“We were on the road and my eyes felt heavy. Next thing I knew, we were here. As soon as you put me on the bed, it hit out of nowhere.”
“Does that happen often?”
“Never before. As I said, it’s probably a bug.”
His face is etched with worry. “I’ve been with you ten days straight. We’ve traveled together, been around the same people, and eaten the same food. I’m perfectly fine. I called Darby. Her family is fine, as are Mom and Dad.”
I chew on the corner of my lips and think about the last few days. “Then it was my fault. If this isn’t a stomach bug, then it’s a case of overindulgence.”
“Explain that.”
“The food, breads, desserts—I indulged in everything to the extreme. This morning, the eggs benedict was the tipping point. My body couldn’t process all the richness. Think about it, you know my regimen. I train a lot. My work schedule keeps me dancing. The only exercise we’ve gotten were our walks on the beach each day. My system runs on adrenaline a lot. Moderation is key, and this weekend there was no moderation. That episode was my body purging my bad choices.”
He stares at me, processing my explanation, and nods. “That makes sense.”
“We’ll test the theory. If I get sick again, we’ll assume it’s a bug. If not, and I continue this well, it was careless diet.”
“Sounds like a plan. But you’re wrong, our walks are not the only exercise we’ve gotten.” His eyebrows arch playfully.
“Hmmm,” I press my finger to my mouth and pretend to think hard. “I must have missed the other.”
“Getting sick must have wiped your memory. I specifically remember you riding me so hard you were begging for God.”
“I did that? Must have forgotten.”
“I had to carry you to the shower.”
My legs rustle reflexively thinking about this morning.
He picks up on it, his eyes dancing as he brings his mouth to mine, kissing softly. “You get some rest and give me the green light that you will not puke on us and I’ll give you a replay you’ll never forget.”
My stomach pitches for a different reason. “Watch for that green light soon.”
“I love you, Poppy.”
“Love you.”
He stands, shooting Runner an exasperated look. “Today’s your lucky day, beast. Don’t get comfortable.”
I smile, situating the pillows, and curling into the soft body of fur. Runner sighs his approval, probably equally exhausted from a weekend of exciting adventures.
My mind wanders back to growing up and our family dog. Years of bittersweet memories roll through my head. The way our family once was, my grandparents, my adolescent years of dance—all of them making me smile. It has been a long time since I’ve allowed myself sentimental reminisces.