* * * *
Bright light filled the room when I peeled my eyes open, still barely conscious. I lay against Clay, basking in his warmth. My headache had faded from a steady thump to an annoying dull ache. I felt drained and very tired.
I tilted my head and met Clay’s observant gaze. Worry glazed the chocolate brown depths. I tried to swallow, but the muscles didn’t want to work.
“I’m thirsty,” I rasped.
He gently moved me and got out of bed. I closed my eyes; I didn’t want him to prove me wrong about the shorts. After a few seconds of silence, I forced my eyes back open. He stood next to the bed, holding out a full glass of water.
Shakily, I leveraged myself up on an elbow and grasped the glass. The cool water felt good going down. I drank it all and handed him the empty glass. He watched me curl up with my pillow.
I closed my eyes.