My Fake Fling

“Ambushed,” she said. “That’s just a little dramatic.”

“I’ve got to go,” I said. “I need to shower.”

“Reese, are you pissed at me?”

I realized I was being short. I wasn’t mad. I was exhausted. I needed to get a shower and get rid of the damn headache. “No. I’m tired. I’m sore. I just want to shower and go to bed. Rich can deal with me later. He’s always going to see me as the cocky twenty-something. I can tell you right now I don’t feel like I’m in my twenties. I feel every one of my thirty-eight years.”

“Are you in pain?” she asked with concern.

“I’m fine. It’s been a long day.”

“I told you not to overdo it,” she lectured. “You need to rest. Do you have an icepack?”

“I’m fine,” I said.

“You need to take some Advil. If you’re dizzy, you need to go see the doctor.”

“Yeah, I know.” I was being short. I knew it, but I didn’t care enough to stop. “I’ll talk to you later. Goodnight.”

I ended the call without giving her a chance to say anything more. I was too tired to argue. I shut off the lights, locked the front door, and dragged my ass upstairs. It took all my energy to get into the shower. I leaned my forehead against the wall and let the water wash over me. The hot water did little to soothe my aches. I couldn’t believe how sore I was. I hadn’t been this bad yesterday.

I fell into bed with about a million things on my mind vying for my attention. I couldn’t concentrate on all of it. My dad was gone. Likely kidnapped. I was sleeping with my best friend’s sister and he wasn’t happy about it. The tower. The new property. There was a lot. It was stressing me out. The last thing I could try and figure out was Rich and his issues.