SATURDAY THE CRAMPS are so horrible that I just curl up under the sheets all day, wallowing.
I eat cake and ice cream and then I just die, and TV doesn't help and I don't even wanna touch a book.
Caleb texts me hey and I reply with
My period is soo bad
please don't come near
me with a ten foot pole
I cover my face with a pillow, as if that will make it better.
What if I bring movies and food?
That makes me smile, just a teeny bit.
If you throw in some ibuprofen
then you got yourself a deal.
Done. See you at six.
I'll be here 😖
Around two I get about ten minutes of blissful reprieve, so I clean up, just a little. And then it starts all over again, so I just lay on the couch with the Discovery channel playing in the background. Ugh. It doesn't help that I had but one measly little Advil left this morning. And there is no way I could ever make it to the store.
Four more hours of mind-numbing pain? Not really an option, is it?
But the only other option...
No. I can't.
Yes you can.
No.
Yes.
No.
But it hurts. Thinking about it also hurts. Anyway, he's probably not even home.
And then, because the universe is conspiring against me, I hear the familiar tread of footsteps, the slight jingle of keys and the swift opening and closing of his door. Ughh. Not a chance.
Do it.
Don't you dare.
But I need to.
I remember the last time I saw him, my fists pounding against his chest and my tears staining his shirt, his arms wrapped around my waist, holding me close.
Yeah. I've officially been driven insane.
•§•
"DOLCEZZA." HE DOESN'T look too surprised to see me. Just tired, as usual. He takes me in top to bottom, raising an eyebrow.
Yes, I'm still in my pajamas. And I haven't brushed my hair. And I'm in so much pain that I don't give a flying crap about the fact I look absolutely terrible.
"Do you have any Advil or something?" I close my eyes, because of the cramps and because it's probably easier if I don't look at him.
He makes a small, affirmative hum, and just that tiny little sound low in his throat is sexy as hell. I hear him recede and I stop hiding behind closed eyelids, a little more awake than I was before.
YOU ARE READING
But Too Well
Romance"His gaze holds mine like a spell, like a dangerous, delirious kind of magic. I swallow, my heart racing, my head filling with panic and confusion and anticipation and an inexplicable, unidentifiable hunger. . ." When Rosalyn Clark moves into her ne...
