As another wave of pain hit, Harvey and Otis hovered at the edge of the bed, sharing quick glances in between their pacing and fidgeting. I appreciated the concern but was also ready to throw something at them to make them go away. I wasn’t a fucking carnival sideshow, and I’d tell them just that as soon as I could catch my breath.
“Ruby said it’s period pain.” Calix strode through the door with a glass of water and a fist full of painkillers.
I took back every bad thing I’d ever said about him.
Not really, the fucker deserved it, but I’d happily swallow whatever he offered to take the edge off the cramping.
“Is that all she said?” Otis asked, scrubbing a hand through his hair like it would make his brain work faster.
“Her exact words were: ‘her uterus is an asshole that rips her in half once a month. Nut the fuck up and treat her like the queen she is, or I’ll fly out there and show you how a real partner looks after the woman they’re fucking.’”
I huffed a laugh that turned into a groan as the uterus in question decided to tighten its grip on my spine.
“Does she need something stronger?” Toby asked from his position just outside the door.
“I don’t want you using that shit. You really think I’d be okay with you dosing her with whatever Lainey is dealing these days? Use your fucking head, Tobias.”
The room was quiet in the wake of his outburst, but Calix didn’t seem to notice as he helped me take the medication.
“He was just trying to help,” I murmured as the cramping passed.
He didn’t acknowledge me at all as he sent Harvey to prepare a heat pack and helped me under the covers.
“Sleep. We’re almost at the venue, so if you need anything, text me. If I can’t come, I’ll make sure there is someone who can.”
Who would have thought Calix could be so nurturing?
No part of me believed this version of him would last, but as my energy flagged from the pain, I appreciated the temporary ceasefire.
Tomorrow, I’d fight him again, but I had to admit that for today, he was right. I needed sleep.
Chapter
Twenty-One
Calix
She looked better today.
The glassiness was gone from her eyes, and her complexion no longer resembled sewer water. She’d even eaten the omelet I’d made her for breakfast. Not that she knew it was from me. I’d made De Beaux go check on her when I heard the shower running.
I needed distance from her. Perspective. I’d thought calling her bluff on the whole sexual service thing would get her out of my system. She’d call me an asshole and refuse to let me near her, and I could move on with the tour and write something that wasn’t all about her.
Instead, fucking her felt like coming home, and her taste…I now had a better idea of the euphoria that kept Tobias chasing that next hit. I was an addict, and my substance of choice was someone I couldn’t afford to trust. She had the power to take away everything I’d built.
So I kept my distance, and I watched.
“You look more broody than usual,” Harvey muttered, sliding into the seat across from me and eyeing the sheet music I’d spread across the table. “What’s crawled up your ass?”
“Fuck off, De Beaux. Not everyone is as interested in asses as you.”
An interesting flush of pink crept up his neck before he rolled his eyes and slid the sheet I was working on toward himself.
“You writing a love song? Or an anthem for the sexually frustrated?”
It seemed I wasn’t the only one with a certain manager on his mind.
Before I could snipe back, Tatum slid into the seat beside Harvey. Clenching my jaw, I bit back a growl. I was not jealous that she chose to sit next to him and not me. Really, I wasn’t.
