“I didn’t do it for thanks. I did it so I’d be around when you come out of it. We got some things to talk about. I wanna know the score on this. I got a right to know.”
He frowned at her. “You got one hell of a crust, that’s what you got. I didn’t ask you to put me in this room.”
“It ain’t the first time you been here. You been in this room a lotta times. More times than I can count. And I never dragged you in, either. You always come in on your own two feet.”
He took a deep breath. He started to get up from the bed and she pushed him back. She did it roughly and he bounced on the mattress. He made another attempt to get up and she pushed him again, harder this time. His head went back against the pillow. It felt like iron banging his skull. He told himself to close his eyes and go to sleep. His benumbed brain said, Forget about her, forget about everything, just go to sleep.
But then she was leaning over him, shaking him. She said, “Come on, come out of it.”
“Goddamnit, leave me alone.”
He shut his eyes tightly and tried to roll over on his side but she pulled at his shoulder and wouldn’t let him do it. He mumbled an oath and reached out blindly to shove her away, and as his hand made contact with Bella, a current passed through him from her to him, from him to her, and he was aching to hold on, hold her tighter, pull her to him and find her lips and taste her mouth. But just then he heard the soundless voice that said, No.
It was a blast of icy realization that sliced through the heat of his senses and the thick mist of the hangover. He moved spasmodically to the other side of the bed, then sat up stiffly, staring at her. Ice was in his eyes as he said, “Keep away from me.”
She sat there on the other side of the bed. She didn’t say anything. She just looked at him.
He said, “And put something on.”