“Only the ones I like.” She releases his wrist. “Even if you get to the point where you can sleep without the pain meds, I need you to keep taking that antibiotic—all of it until it’s gone, okay?”

“I know,” he says softly. “The doctor told me.”

“Then why—” I shut up when Teagan shoots me a look.

“What can I get you, Isaiah?” Teagan asks.

I wonder if it’s the question or the tenderness in her voice that makes his eyes fill with tears.

He looks away and shakes his head. “I’m good,” he says gruffly.

“I’m glad to hear it,” she says.

“I think I want to sleep now,” Isaiah whispers.

“Sure,” Teagan says, standing. I follow suit, and we edge around the bed back to the door.

I let Teagan leave before I turn back to Isaiah. “Text if you need me. I’ll be back in a couple of days.”

“You don’t have to visit me.”

“But I want to.” I grin. “And you’re stuck in that bed, so you can’t avoid me.”

He rolls his eyes and almost smiles. “Thanks, Carter.”

Teagan

I wake up to the sound of thrashing and sit up in bed. It takes me a few panicked beats of my heart to remember where I am—the hotel suite, with Carter.

It’s still dark, but I can just make out his silhouette on the couch, blankets thrown off and scattered on the floor. He waves his arms over his face as if he’s trying to throw someone or something off him. “Get the fuck out of there,” he shouts.

I climb out of bed and cross the room. “Carter?”

He thrashes again and grumbles something unintelligible. But his face—my God—his expression is that of someone in excruciating pain, and my chest aches at the sight of this big, powerful man decimated by his own nightmares.

“Carter,” I say, louder this time. And when I brush his shoulder with my fingers, he grabs my hand and holds it tight.

“We have to get out of here.”

“Carter, wake up.”

“Get the fuck out!” he growls. He squeezes my arm hard enough that it brings tears to my eyes.

“Okay,” I say, swallowing hard. “Let’s go.”

His whole body relaxes and his shoulders go loose, but he keeps my hand in his and brings it to his chest, pressing it there under both of his. “I almost lost you.”

“I’m fine,” I say gently. “We’re safe.” But even now his expression is so tortured that my heart breaks a little.

The couch is too small and he’s too big. There’s not really room for me to sleep beside him, so I grab a blanket and crawl on top of him, resting my cheek against his bare chest.

When I wake up a few hours later, Carter’s awake and staring at me. I see the confusion on his face.