“Yeah,” I said, although my voice was off. It had nothing to do with my subsiding migraine. Once again, it was Silas’s effect on me. “I’ll be fine. I’m sorry tonight didn’t go how we wanted it to.”
He grinned, and the blue light made it look indecent. “True. There was a lot less mouth-raping than I thought there’d be. But I’m sure you’ll be back at it in no time. I believe in you.”
“Shut the fuck up.”
“Okay.”
He sealed his lips over mine, drowning out all thought but him.
Chapter
SIXTEEN
I’d failed all of my objectives when it came to Silas. I hadn’t figured out how close he was with his sister, and I hadn’t outlined any ground rules about keeping things between us casual.
Last Sunday had been anything but casual. Every day since, my confusing feelings for him had grown.
Now it was Thursday and I sat in the exam room of my doctor’s office, determined to overcome the childish fear. If Silas could lie with me in complete silence for hours, I could get over the needle phobia. He’d texted earlier today and asked if we could meet for lunch, but I’d told him I was following his advice and getting the prescription for injections.
He reminded me again of his offer to stick it in me, and I’d grinned to myself.
The pain relief drugs worked fairly well, but keeping them down during the onslaught of a migraine was difficult. The injections would solve the issue. I watched my doctor’s stylus pen stroke on the tablet as she finished filling out the script, and just that action made my palms sweaty.
I went to the gym and worked out, and ran the rest of my errands, avoiding picking the prescription up, but finally forced myself to go to the pharmacy where the bored-looking pharmacist walked me through the entire process of loading the injector pen, how to change syringe cartridges, and of course, how to knowingly puncture my skin with a needle.
“Make sure you hold it against you for at least five seconds,” the guy said. “Otherwise you won’t get all the medicine.” He demonstrated by pushing the blue plunger, and the sharp needle gleamed.
“Oh, Christ,” I muttered. Maybe seeing the needle was enough of a warning to my body. You see that? You give me another fucking migraine and I’m sticking that in my arm.
I read the patient instructions for use two more times on the train ride back to my place, because my memory of the demonstration went hazy once the needle had come out. As I walked into my apartment building, my phone rang. Payton?
“Hey, what’s up?” Usually I called her since I was the one who needed her to fill in for me.
“What’s the story between you and the tattoo artist?”
She was Joseph’s best friend, but I didn’t think he was much of a gossip. Apparently I’d been wrong. Had she found out Joseph covered Silas’s evening at the club?
“We hooked up a few times, but we’re keeping it casual.” The lie tasted wrong in my mouth. My feelings toward him were much too strong.
“Bringing him to my wedding as your date is casual?”
I dropped my bags on the table and froze. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Your RSVP card. It says Silas is your ‘plus one.’ Unless you’re dating a different Silas and the tattoo artist is your side piece?” I could hear her smile through the phone.
“I didn’t RSVP.” I hurried to the fridge where I’d stuck the invitation. It had arrived the Monday after Matt moved out, and in the chaos I hadn’t done anything with it.
“I’m looking at the card,” Payton said. “Ms. Regan Wilson and guest, Silas Getty.”
The invitation was one of those fancy folder types. I dug through the tiny folder, but the reply card wasn’t there, and neither was the envelope to send it back in. What the fuck?
“Holy shit.” On Sunday night he’d been gone a long time before he’d come back to bed with the beer and the water. Plenty of time to take the card. “He must have filled it out and sent it back.”
She laughed. “So much for casual. I like this guy’s style.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t.”
“So, I should put you down as solo?”