Meet Me Halfway(61)

She opened it wearing only shorts and a bra, a curling iron dangling from her hand. Her eyes widened when she took in my disheveled sight.

“What the hell, Mads?”

“I think I might have food poisoning.”

“No shit. I told you that taco salad looked fucking iffy. You look like you’re on death’s door. Like, you legit look awful.”

I looked up from my new plastic best friend to my old best friend, glaring with all the muster I could gather. “Thanks.”

She set her curling iron on her side table and grabbed a top to pull over herself. “You’re calling in to work…right?”

“Obviously,” I groaned, squeezing my eyes together and trying not to gag in her face. “Can you take Jamie to school on your way to work?”

“Yeah, I’ll handle it, babe, go back to bed.”

She didn’t need to tell me twice. I formed my body into a fetal position on my bed and called Evaline to let her know I wouldn’t make it in.

It’d taken almost two hours before my stomach settled enough to finally venture out. It was either risk inducing another puke fest or die by severe thirst. I chose the first option. It felt like my entire mouth had been invaded by a colony of cotton balls.

Water in hand, I shuffled to the couch to prop myself up, staring at the blank screen of the TV and wishing with all my heart we had cable.

Rap, rap, rap.

I shot forward, knocking my—thankfully empty—bucket to the ground and almost dumping my water glass across my lap. The sudden movement had spots dancing across my vision, and a wave of dizziness washed over me. I had to plant my head between my knees to ward off the overwhelming sensation of passing out.

Rap, rap, rap.

“Madison?” A voice asked, muffled behind the wood.

Neck still bent between my legs, I allowed myself a moment to wail. Why me? It’d been days since he was last here. Why would he choose today of all days? I could ignore him and pretend I wasn’t here, but my Jeep was parked out front. Fuck.

Pulling myself off the couch with painful slowness, I dragged my feet to the door. My head was swirling, but I took a steadying breath and unlocked it. All I needed to do was keep my shit together until he left. I could do that. I’d given birth, I could control the urge to vomit in this man’s vicinity.

“Madison?”

“Garrett.”

“I was getting ready to head out when I noticed your Jeep still here. Everything okay?”

He tilted his head, trying to see me through the two-inch crack I’d allowed. He was dressed for work and had a lunch pail sitting on the porch next to him. My stomach rolled harder.

“Yep.” One-word answers. I could handle one-word answers.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

He glared at me, and even through the gap, it seared into my skin. “I just don’t feel well. Something I ate. It’s nothing.” I settled a hand over my middle, breathing in and out.

His eyes narrowed, dipping down before coming back to rest on my face. He pushed the door, and I reactively pushed back, trying to prevent him from coming inside. It was the wrong thing to do.

I looked up at him, eyes wide and mouth parted in horror before I whipped around, sprinting for the bathroom.

The sound of heavy footsteps was my only warning life was not going to take it easy on me. Of course, Garrett had invited himself inside. Of course, he didn’t stay in the living room when I had my head buried in a toilet and hair plastered to my face.

I heard a few sliding sounds I couldn’t quite place and then more footsteps.

“Put these on and step in the shower.”

“What?” I croaked, cracking an eye open and trying to focus up at his face.

“You heard me.” Something soft dropped onto my thighs, and I glanced down to see a pair of clothes. My clothes. A black tank top and cotton briefs to be exact.

“You went through my dresser?”

“It was either that or I saw you naked. Figured you’d prefer it this way.”

“Excuse me—”

“If you sass me right now, Maddie, I swear to God, I’ll strip you down and toss you in there when it’s still ice cold.”

Was it possible to feel nauseated and incredulous at the same time? “I’ll puke all down your back,” I threatened, not sounding nearly as strong as I wanted.

“No, you won’t. From the sounds of it, you got nothing left in the tank. You’d just gag, and I gotta tell you, baby, gagging doesn’t bother me.”

I stared at him, his words settling between us with a heaviness I shouldn’t have felt given the current circumstances.

He walked farther into the bathroom, pulling back the curtain and turning on the shower. Turning to look down at me with his hands on his hips, he asked, “So what’s it going to be? You gonna meet me halfway here, or am I tossing you in?”

I narrowed my eyes, unsticking my head from the toilet seat and gripping the clothes in my lap. “Are you going to at least leave?”

“With you looking two seconds away from passing out? Not a chance. I’ll face the hall while you change, but don’t you dare try to climb over the tub edge without help.”

I grumbled out a curse at his back that had his shoulders tensing, but I did what he said. It took me longer than I wanted to admit, but he never complained or peeked.