Hope on the Rocks by Annabeth Albert
Fifteen
Adam
I was not fine. I’d spent several hours telling Quinn I was fine while knowing perfectly well one of my migraines was coming on. I’d pushed it all week, too many long hours and late nights, not enough hydration for the upswing in temperatures, and too much bar food. And possibly it was a full moon or something else woo-woo because sometimes the headaches sprung up no matter what I ate or drank or how I slept. I hated the randomness and crappy timing. Quinn was sexy and funny and had a room needing paint. He didn’t need a cranky Daddy, and he absolutely didn’t need another patient.
So naturally, I didn’t ask him for anything, not even an over-the-counter pain med. Instead, I allowed myself to get worse and worse until the final coat of paint was nearly finished, and we were working on touch-ups.
“We could order pizza if you want,” Quinn offered, adding to a discussion about food options. But my rising pain kept making me space on the conversation, and I was increasingly sure it didn’t matter what we did for dinner because mine would come right back up. I’d let the pain grow from a chisel to a dental drill to a jackhammer rather than have to cut out early from the painting, and now I had to pay the piper. Hell, I couldn’t even reply, could only focus on my breathing.
“Adam?” Quinn sounded alarmed as he crossed the room to come crouch next to where I was working on some trim.
“Sorry.” I slumped back on my heels, even kneeling to do trim was too much. “Not…doing the best. Order what you want.”
“You’re sick. What’s wrong?” Yup. Here came Quinn’s highly capable Dr. Strauss persona, feeling my forehead and reaching for my wrist, all concerned eyes and furrowed brow.
“Headache.” No sense in lying at this point, and I didn’t need him thinking it was something worse than it was. “Migraine. I get them.”
“Is this different from your usual? Any light auras or—”
“Gonna hurl.” I struggled to my feet and made a mad dash to his master bathroom, where the brighter light threatened to incinerate my eyeballs while I got epically sick.
And then, blessedly, the light was gone. Darkness. A cool hand on my arm helping me up and another sponging off my face.
“You don’t have to…”
“Pretty sure I took an oath that says otherwise,” Quinn countered dryly, continuing to blot at my face with the wet cloth. “But also, you’ve seen me puke. We’re even now. Mouthwash?”
“Thanks.” I accepted the bottle and little cup.
“God. That might come up too,” I groaned after rinsing my mouth.
“You’ve had headaches this bad before?” He was still very much in doctor mode, and I half-expected him to pull out a pad to start taking notes.
“Many times. Worse even. I’m not at ER-level bad here. Just need a minute.” Venturing back into his room, I collapsed on the edge of the drop cloth-covered bed.
“And meds. Where are yours? You have a prescription, I’m assuming, since this happens often?”
“Yeah. I have a bottle.” I waved my hand weakly. “At home. Can’t drive once I take it, so I don’t keep it on me. Gimme a second, and I’ll head out—”
“You will not. I’ll drive you.” He was all matter of fact, gathering up the brushes we’d been using and putting lids back on the paint.
“You don’t need to trouble yourself for me.” It was weird having someone take care of me like this, especially someone outside of my family. And even with them, I was far more comfortable being the one doing the rescuing.
“It’s not trouble.” He gave me the sternest look I’d ever seen from him, a glimpse of the sort of respect he had to command at work. “Don’t make me threaten the kind of spanking neither of us will enjoy.”
“Fuck this headache.I’m supposed to be the one taking care of you.” My shoulders slumped more. I hated falling down on the Daddy job.
“You are taking care of me, by letting me do this. And you take awesome care of me other times too. Let me return the favor?”
I was in no position to argue, so I nodded.
“Come on, you lay on the couch while I get the worst of this mess, like the brushes, handled, then home to bed with you.”
“Thanks.” Moving gingerly, I followed him downstairs. He flipped off lights as we went, frowning at his large picture windows in the living area.
“Afraid I can’t turn off the last of the sun.”
“It’s okay.” I flopped onto the couch, one hand over my head. He returned moments later to hand me an empty bowl, an ice pack, and a bottled drink.
“In case you get sick again,” he gestured at the bowl. “Try icing the back of your neck or closer to the pain if that helps. And drink this. It’s an electrolyte drink that has a small amount of caffeine in it. I use it after a truly terrible night of no sleep. Might hold you until we can get you to your meds.”
“Thanks. They sure teach you all the headache tricks in medical school.” I went ahead and drank some of the fruity beverage, even if I wasn’t too sure about it staying down.
“We see a fair number of migraines in ER and urgent care practice, but my mother also suffered from migraines for years. I learned some of the better home remedies watching her try various things.”
“Well, I appreciate it. I’ve tried darn near everything myself over the years. These headaches started in high school, and some years are better than others in terms of frequency.”
“What do they have you on now as a preventative?” He rummaged in a side table drawer.
My mouth twisted. “Nothing. I’ve got a primary care doctor in Coos Bay who tried to figure out a cause. Saw a neurologist in Eugene. Tried allergy meds for a while. Didn’t help. Tried this one prescription for migraine prevention that cost a God-awful amount, and it seemed to make things worse, not better.”
“Hmm. I’ve been seeing some promising new research involving beta-blockers as preventatives. That’s in the category typically used for blood pressure symptoms, but they can work on headache prevention too.”
“You mentioning blood pressure reminds me to make Mom go into the clinic this week.” I groaned because my to-do list truly was never-ending and merely thinking about it made my head throb worse.
“Yes. Do. And if she does have elevated blood pressure, that’s even more of a reason for you to try one of the newer medications. Might be some sort of genetic link there. I’ll give you the name of someone in Coos Bay if your regular doctor can’t get you in.” And apparently, he wasn’t done discussing blood pressure because he had an electronic checker thing that he’d removed from the side table before reaching for my arm.
“Hey, you don’t need to take my vitals right now.”
“You think I haven’t seen a thirty-year-old with a heart attack or unexpectedly high blood pressure?” He gave me another stern look as he went ahead and put the cuff on me. “I just want to do a fast check for my own peace of mind.”
“Okay, okay.” I’d play the good patient if it settled him down, but man, I hated needing him like this. My neck tensed further, muscles practically riveted together at this point.
“We’ll get you home soon. Promise.” He waited for the machine to do its thing. “And there. It’s a little up, as I’d expect given your pain level, but not at a clinically concerning level.”
“You’re sexy when you talk all smart.” I tried to summon a smile for him. Probably failed because he laughed and kissed the top of my head.
“Ha. You rest.”
True to his word, he didn’t take too long cleaning up the paint. His home remedies helped stave off the pain a little, but I remained in pretty rough shape for the drive to my place. Luckily, I managed to exit the SUV on my own.
“Wait up.” Quinn exiting the driver’s side shouldn’t have surprised me. He wasn’t the type to drop me and run.
“You don’t have to stay.” I’d already ruined enough of his night. I didn’t need to steal the last of it too. Felt pathetic how much I wanted him to stay, how warm his hand on my arm felt as he guided me toward the door.
“I’m coming in at least to make sure you find the meds. And if they don’t work well enough, you might need a ride to the ER. No sense in you calling your mom or someone else when I’m right here.”
Damn it. He was smart. Couldn’t argue with that. “I might fall asleep fast. Don’t want to bore you.”
“I’ve got a great new fantasy series to read on the app on my phone after I finish looking up some of that research on beta-blockers. And you have a TV. I’m fine.” He squeezed my bicep as we entered the house. Of course, my genius nerd was going to research more about my condition. Him taking so much of an interest should not have felt good. “Besides, my place smells like paint, even with the low-odor formula we got. Consider this me taking you up on the offer to escape my bedroom.”
“I can think of a dozen sexier reasons to get you in my bedroom.” I grimaced as another wave of pain swamped me as I stumbled toward the bathroom where my medication was.
Quinn was there with water before I could even get the bottle open, and he had me settled in my bed before I could protest more. After tucking me in with a tenderness that made my lungs burn, he left me alone in the dark with another ice pack and more water. Drifting on the pain, along with the haze of the medication, I was vaguely aware of him forcing some soup on me and checking on me a couple of times before the med finally took the edge off enough that I could muster more than one-word replies to his questions.
“How is it now?” he asked, sitting next to me on the bed, using the flashlight feature of his fancy phone to examine my face before extinguishing the light. He stroked my hair, touch so gentle that I was dangerously close to weeping, and not from the pain.
“Not quite so much like I’m gonna die.” My voice came out thick, emotions too close to the surface. I’d probably feel like a donkey kicked me all the next day, but at least I wasn’t facing an ER visit. Quinn’s care was a big reason why. “Thank you.”
“Not dying is excellent.” Leaning in, he brushed a kiss on my temple the way I often did to him. The role reversal was both sweet and made my chest hurt with wanting to get back to taking care of him. “Try to sleep now.”
“Wait. You don’t have to go.” I grabbed his wrist when he would have moved away.
“Don’t worry about me. Your couch is plenty comfortable. I’ll run you back to your truck tomorrow if you can drive.”
“Lay with me a bit?” I asked, hating how damn needy I sounded. If I couldn’t be the one doing the caretaking, at least I could wallow in his nearness, let myself soak up his concern and tenderness for the next time I had to go through this on my own.
“Sure.” Thankfully, he didn’t make me ask twice, stretching out next to me. I scooted over to give him more room, then wrapped an arm and leg around him.
“I’m not gonna escape.” He laughed softly but tugged me closer anyway. He was here and staying. And for the moment, that was everything.
