When minutes went by and no head pain or nausea came along, I silently thanked the universe. Especially since I really didn’t want to hurl in front of Dane. I had my pride.
The familiar sound of his thumbs tapping on a cell phone screen told me he was probably working in some capacity. Typical.
I kept thinking he would get up and leave at some point, but he stayed. And although it really wasn’t necessary for him to be there, it … well, it was touching that he’d chosen to stay. He’d no doubt leave when he was satisfied that I was sleeping. Now that the pills had really started to kick in, it wouldn’t be long before I dozed off.
Fingers slid through my hair and gently glided along my scalp, but not even the pleasure of Dane’s touch was enough to hold off the tug of sleep. It soon swept me under.
When I next opened my eyes, the room was lightish, courtesy of my sunrise alarm clock. I snuggled beneath the bedcovers and inwardly groaned. I felt groggy as all shit. Migraine pills, I thought as the fog of sleep began to dissipate. They always had this effect on me. Well, at least the unnatural fatigue and boat-rocking sensation had faded.
I rolled over … and stilled. Because I wasn’t alone. He’s still here. He hadn’t left me.
He was also asleep.
I doubted he’d meant to stay the whole night, or he’d surely have laid down. Instead, he’d placed his pillows behind him so that he could lounge more comfortably in a half-sitting position. His phone was still in his hand, as if he’d dozed off while … doing whatever he was doing.
My heart squeezed. See, he wasn’t a stone-cold, selfish bastard. If he was as bad as many believed, he’d have simply helped me to bed and then left without giving it a second thought. Hell, he wouldn’t have joined me in the media room.
It was no doubt creepy that I just lay there watching him sleep, but whatever. The line between his brows didn’t surprise me. I couldn’t imagine Dane ever looking peaceful, not even in sleep. My fingertips tingled with the temptation to smooth away his frown … or maybe to trace the strong line of his jaw. But I kept my hands where they were.
He allegedly had an issue with sleeping in the same room as others, and yet here he was. I didn’t really know what to make of that. Maybe he just didn’t like having other people in his bed with him. Maybe he was fine sharing a bed if said bed wasn’t his own. Maybe he simply had bad nightmares and didn’t want anyone to witness them.
My alarm soon went off. His eyelids flipped open. Didn’t flutter, didn’t weakly lift. They shot open like he’d been whacked across the head.
I licked my lips. “Morning.” The word came out husky with sleep. “Any chance you could switch that alarm off?”
Dane did as I asked and then studied me with slumberous dark eyes. “How’re you feeling?” he asked, his voice thick.
“Better.”
“Migraine’s gone?”
“Yes.” I bit my lip. “Thanks for staying with me. If it happens again, though, you really can just leave me here. I’ll be okay.”
“Hmm.”
I yawned. “I’m guessing you didn’t mean to fall asleep.”
“I was going to leave after a few hours, but then your muscles started spasming. It mostly happened in your hands and feet, but I was worried you were going to have a seizure.”
I winced. “Forgot to warn you about the spasms, sorry.”
“I didn’t know you had migraines. You’ve never had any at work.”
“They usually happen in the evenings. I only have them, like, every six months or so.” Anyone who suffered them on a daily basis had my total admiration, because I’d never cope.
“Have you had them since you were a child?”
“No.” Feeling a little stiff, I forced myself to sit up. “I had my first when I was nineteen.” Melinda had shit herself when my speech went slurry. She’d thought I was having a stroke.
“I’ve never had a migraine.”
“Never? Really? Not even a teeny, tiny one?”
He shook his head.
“The devil’s luck,” I mumbled.
He slid off the bed and pocketed his phone. “You going to be okay to go to work?”
“Of course. But it’s sweet that you’d ask.” I flicked back the covers. “As is the way you softly snore.”
“I don’t snore.”
Probably not, but it was fun to poke at him. “I heard you with my own ears.”
“You heard wrong.” He turned and strode toward the door. “Now get ready and meet me downstairs. We’ve got a hectic day ahead of us.”
“Don’t I know it,” I grumbled. It was the story of my life.
Chapter Fifteen
Slotting a book back into its place on the sturdy bookshelf the next day, I did a long stretch. I’d been holed up in the library for hours, unwinding in my favorite way ever. I’d mentally jotted down several of the books here that I intended to read before my inevitable divorce. I was determined to get through them all.
I’d miss this little haven when I left. No matter how hectic my day was, all my tension fell away whenever I walked into the library. Partly because I just loved the woody, earthy scents of old books and leather. I honestly didn’t get why Dane never made any use of the space. What a weirdo.
Said weirdo was currently in his home office. Big surprise there. He’d earlier popped his head through the door to inform me that he was back from his dinner meeting with colleagues, but he’d disappeared before I could say anything more than “hi.”
I’d almost laughed when Melinda once commented on how “social” Dane was. Social my ass. He could certainly feign the fuck out of it when it suited him, though. Just as he feigned the fuck out of being head over heels for me.
Grabbing another book I’d mentally marked as to-be-read, I crossed to what had become my favorite plush chair within the library. I was just about to sit when Dane strolled inside, his eyes hard, his mouth tight.
I lifted my brows. “Something wrong?”
He halted a few feet away and casually slipped his hands into his pockets, but he looked far from at ease. “I just received an email from Heather.”
Uh-oh. I should have figured she’d send him another. Or maybe she’d just re-sent the first. “Heather?” I echoed. “What did she want?”
“Firstly, to apologize for that scene she caused at the barbecue. She claims to be ashamed of her behavior and is mortified that she let her family down so badly. She went on to tell me how it saddens her that you two have never been close, and that she regrets never forming a sisterly bond with you.”
She’d typed all that in the other email.
“She also apparently feels the need to warn me that you’ve never gotten over Owen, and she worries that you might just be using me to get his attention, now that he’s divorcing his wife. She’s quite sure you’d leave me for him if he gave you the slightest indication that he’d be willing to give things with you another try, and apparently her conscience wouldn’t let her keep quiet about it.”
Yep, she’d said that lump of shit in the original email, too, so it was looking like she had indeed simply re-sent it. The woman didn’t know when to stop, did she? “I can see you’re pissed, but just ignore her. I’ll deal with it, Dane.”