He sat up, the movement making him cough again, and he noticed who was sitting in a chair across the room.
Ciaran.
He didn’t look particularly happy. Sawyer wasn’t sure if he ever was happy.
“You went into the water,” Ciaran said, voice low. “You were lucky you didn’t drown.”
Sawyer had a quick flashback of a strong hand pulling him up to the surface. Christ, had he almost died today?
He scrubbed a hand over his face, taking in the room. It was a decent size, white walls, a dresser, and a great bed. “Where am I?” he asked, voice raspy.
It made him cough again, and with a hand to his chest, he looked down at himself. The blankets were pooled around his waist and his very naked torso. He lifted the blankets and found the rest of him naked as well. He shot Ciaran a look. “Where the fuck are my clothes?”
“Drying,” he said, annoyed. He pointed his chin toward a pile of clothes on the end of the bed. “You can wear those. You’re welcome, by the way.”
Sawyer felt the pang of shame and regret deep down in his core. Why it bothered him so much to bicker with Ciaran, he wasn’t sure. “Sorry, I... I’m just not used to waking up naked in a strange bed.”
With a man sitting there, watching him....
“How long was I out of it?”
“Hours.”
Sawyer’s head swam, and he was dizzy again. Putting his hand to his forehead didn’t help much. “I think I need food, or?—”
“You need to look after yourself better,” Ciaran snapped. Then he let out a burst of air and tried to compose himself. “Do you know how close you came to dying today?”
What the hell was he angry for?
“What do you remember?”
Sawyer reached down to the foot of the bed, careful to hold the blankets over his crotch. Not that it mattered; Ciaran had obviously seen him naked.
“Uh....” He pulled the T-shirt over his head. “I remember going fishing.”
Ciaran’s nostrils flared. “IsaidI would take you.”
He was legit mad at him, and Sawyer didn’t like it. It was like a splinter or a burr in his heart.
What the fuck?
Sawyer rubbed his hand over his chest, trying to ease whatever the fuck was happening to him. “I need to go,” he said. “I don’t feel... right.”
Ciaran let out a slow, stilted breath. “You can stay here. Sleep some more.”
Sawyer shot him a look. “Look, sorry for almost drowning. Sorry for sleeping in your bed—” Ciaran’s eyes flashed with fire at that, and Sawyer had just about had enough. “I don’t know what the fuck is going on, but?—”
“What do you remember?” Ciaran barked.
“About what?”
“All of it!”
“Nothing. Everything, I don’t even fucking know. I remember fishing. I remember thinking how much I loved it here. I remember feeling like Ineededto be here. Then the water. I remember the water. Looking at it, how beautiful it was. How it looked like a freaking galaxy, and then I was in it. And Iwanted to stay in it. It was calling to me. I wanted to go deeper and never come out of it. I wanted?—”
Sawyer’s words cut off when Ciaran looked as if Sawyer had slapped him.
The pain of it in his eyes.
