He closed the fridge and pinned me with his eyes. “Duchess, sit your ass down.”
Well. What did I say to that?
I didn’t know but I started, “Max –”
“Ass on a stool or I’ll put it on a stool.”
Was he serious?
“Max, I need to –”
“Eat.”
“I’m sorry?”
“You need to eat. You haven’t had anything in two days.”
I forgot about him being somewhat rude and definitely domineering and felt my head move forward with a jerk at the same time I felt my eyes grow wide.
“What?” I whispered.
“You been out of it for two days.”
I looked out the window as if the landscape could tell me this was false (or true). Then my eyes went back to Max.
“Two days?”
“Yep.”
“It’s Tuesday?”
“Yep.”
“Oh my God,” I whispered.
“Sit down, Nina.”
Too shocked by the knowledge that I’d lost two whole days of my timeout adventure, without another word I moved forward and sat down on a stool. Max poured me a glass of cranberry juice and set it on the counter in front of me then he moved away.
“Coffee,” I muttered, “please.”
“Gotcha.”
“Two days,” I whispered to my cranberry juice before I took a sip.
“You remember any of it?” he asked and my eyes moved quickly to him.
His back was to me and he was pouring a cup of coffee.
Now, what did I do?
Did I tell him yes, I remembered him taking care of me? Giving me medicine, keeping me hydrated, wiping my brow, getting into bed with me and holding me until the tremors went away, changing my t-shirt, stroking my back? Did I tell him I remembered him being so sweet?
Since I wasn’t intending on thinking of any of that (ever), I decided to lie.
“Remember any of it?” I parroted.
He turned and walked the coffee to me. “Yeah, you were pretty out of it. Do you remember any of it?”