But I couldn’t. The warmer the bathroom got as the hot shower steam filled the room, the colder I got. So cold I started to shiver and my teeth began to chatter. After stripping down I stepped into the hot shower, which immediately relieved me of the chills. Unfortunately, it felt like my body was shutting down. Nausea had me in its sights, and I stood under the hot spray, willing the urge to puke to go away. But the sensation stayed with me as I soaped up my body and then my hair.
And suddenly I was hot. Too hot, even for a hot shower. And my muscles ached. Something was wrong, I just knew it. Since I couldn’t afford to have any medical issues, I stood under the hot spray until it turned cold and stepped out, feeling worse than when I’d stepped in. A quick look at the clock said it was almost ten-thirty. I knew I didn’t have much time before Cal came looking for me, so I rummaged through my purse and then my luggage, in search of a pill. A baggie. Anything to make this constant pain and nausea stop.
“Impossible!” It was all gone. All of it. No pills. No powder. Nothing. I had nothing. No, I’d had nothing for weeks. Now, I had less than nothing.
Tears threatened but I knew there was no time so I squeezed my eyes shut as tight as could, until they stung. A tear or two made an appearance and that was it. I pushed down the pain and the nausea, and the on-again 0ff-again muscle aches and looked myself in the mirror. Same old Bonnie, same flaming red hair and pale freckled skin, only now I was paler and thinner. A ghost of the girl smiling beside Maisie on the day we graduated college. Shit, had that only been a month or two ago? Seemed like a lifetime.
“Knock, knock, Sleeping Beauty. Rise and shine!” There was humor in Cal’s voice and I rolled my eyes. Who in the hell was so chipper this early in the morning, and after what happened last night?
I yanked open the door to tell Cal as much, but he was gone. Disappeared like a figment of my imagination.
“Weird.” I found my shoes and did one more quick search for a pre-breakfast fix, letting disappointment wash over me before putting on my big girl panties and facing the firing squad.
Over pancakes.
“Ah, she lives!” Cal flashed a playful smile my way the moment I entered the small, though still well-appointed kitchen.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m alive. Barely.” The scent of coffee was in the air, causing my nausea a brief return, but somehow, I managed to swallow it down. “I don’t smell any pancakes.”
His lips quirked into an amused grin and I looked away, refusing to be charmed by whatever this breakfast meeting was meant to be.
“That’s because I haven’t cooked them yet. Pancakes cook quickly, hence the wakeup call.” I had a feeling his wording was chosen more carefully than Cal would ever let on, so I shrugged, feigning ignorance and poured a big mug of black coffee. “Sugar and cream are on the counter.”
“Black is good, thanks.” My gaze connected with his in a tense moment that wasn’t quite romantic or sexual in nature, but it was something. “So. What’s up?”
“Impatient. We’re gonna have to work on that.”
I grunted in response, my eyes glued to Cal as he grabbed ingredients from a nearby pantry as well as the stainless steel fridge with double doors. He reached for a large mixing bowl, showing off just the barest hint of midsection, revealing he was more than a sedentary computer geek.
“Seriously, Cal?” My patience was painfully thin, or maybe it was just the general feeling of unease and overall sense of blah that had me feeling testy.
“Not a morning person. Got it. I’ll put it on the list of things to know about my new houseguest.”
Houseguest. “You mean Sadie’s houseguest.”
Cal shook his head and looked up from the bowl, showing off his muscular forearms dusted in reddish gold hair while he whisked the pancake batter. “Nope. I mean my guest, as in you’ll stay here. With me.”
I gasped and immediately started to shake my head. “That’s not a good—”
“It’s not a good idea, you’re right. It’s a great idea. You can stay here and get clean,” he emphasized the last two words unnecessarily.
It sounded good. So far. In theory. “What’s the catch?”
His red brows dipped in confusion. “You’re far too naïve to be so suspicious, Bonnie.” At my offended look, he let out an amused bark of laughter. “Fine. The catch is that you get and stay clean. I’ll keep you safe and taken care of while you focus on sobriety. And finding a way to use your degree that doesn’t rely on your folks’ church connections.”