26. MADDIE

CHAPTER 26

MADDIE

I should be excited to see Aran for our next actual tutoring session, but I'm not.

With every second that passes, I barely survive a new attempted murder from my uterus. Just yesterday I was an active member of society. I aced a midterm, tutored two students, hung out with Wyatt and Melinda, and made dinner with Ryan. Even went to bed early.

Today I'm more useless than a wet tissue.

I came to the Thundercloud for a strong coffee I could drink to get my ibuprofen going fast. But for an hour, I've sat at a table clutching at my stomach, unable to do anything but breathe. How am I going to even get to the library?

My phone buzzes against the table, moving dangerously close to the edge. I grab it with a shaky hand, and my heart leaps as I see Aran's name on the screen. His text asks where I am. Seems like he's already at the library.

Me

I don't know if I can make it today

Seeing that it takes me forever and a half to write such a simple text, I question whether I can even make it home. Maybe I just need to rest for a moment. I lower my face to the table, because I can't bring myself to care about germs right now, and close my eyes.

Except my phone starts buzzing again. With a groan, I feel around until it's in my hand and open my eyes. Aran's calling. I accept the call and lean the phone against my face.

"Why not?" is his greeting.

With a thread of voice, I reply, "I don't feel well."

There's a pause on the line. Then, "What's wrong?"

"Um." I debate whether to tell him, but it's not like Aran has never seen any of my imperfections. He also probably deserves an explanation as to why his tutor is flaking out. "I've been trying to physically move myself from the Thundercloud, but I can't. My period's killing me."

"Okay." There's something so final about that one single word. I'm sure he's hung up until he adds, "I'll see you in a minute." And then the line goes dead for real.

I squeeze my eyes shut. I don't want to see him like this. I'd rather be transported back in time to the lake when we were making out on the shore, my back in the sand, him on top of me, and the water gently lapping at us.

Did I hallucinate that, or did that really happen?

Who knows what would've happened if Aran hadn't had to go to practice. Well, I know, but that all resides in my head only. And I don't think Aran meant to take the reverse tutoring that far in the first place—especially since it came with a no-strings-attached clause.

"Hey."

I open my eyes, and for a moment, I don't know where I am. My mind was replaying the study session at the lake. I lift my head, and a fresh wave of pain slams into me so hard that I groan. Is the table swimming? Or am I the one underwater?

"Whoa, Strawberry." I recognize the voice. It comes from somewhere beside me. "You look like a ghost."

"I am one," I mumble. "Pretty sure I'm dead."

A scalding hot hand touches my forehead. "You need to see a doctor."

"No." I moan. "They always tell me it's nothing and that I should lose weight instead. No doctors."

Aran is crouched beside me. This is the second time I've seen him from above. The first time was when he lifted me in the water with his arms around my butt. Funny how, instead of making my womb happier, that memory makes it hurt more. His brow furrows more.

A grunt. "Fine, then let's get you home."

"Only if you have a teleporting machine."

"It's called a car. Let's go." He stands up and gathers my bag, then circles an arm around my waist, and with his free hand, he grabs my arm to pull me up.

I stagger against him, though not on purpose. I can't feel my legs. Aran curses in my ear. We don't say anything else as he slowly walks me out of the café. I keep my head down so he doesn't see the tears trickling down my cheeks. I'm angry and embarrassed and it hurts so freaking much.

My period has always been like this. It arrives without warning, sometimes four weeks after the last one, other times two, others months later. But every time, it visits with the power of an anvil falling on my body. And everyone around me tends to think I'm overreacting, especially doctors.

"I'm sorry," I say once we're in his SUV and on the way back home.

"What the hell for?"

"Being an inconvenience." He starts to turn, and I look away.

"Who said that?"

"Well, no one," I whisper. "But you seem annoyed. And we'll have to cancel the study session because of me. And I feel bad."

"Yeah, you feel bad because you look like a nine on the pain scale. And I am annoyed, but only because I can't do anything else to help."

"Oh." I bite my lip hard, as if it could tamp down the butterflies fluttering in my chest.

We get to the apartment complex, and I'm all too eager to unbuckle myself, since the seat belt felt like a clamp around my hips. I open the door, and slowly, I turn around until I can basically melt onto the pavement. And that's when I realize something.

"Oh no. How am I going to climb four floors like this?"

I want to cry. But not in front of Aran. I take big gasps of air, trying to not let myself.

"I'll carry you if I must," he says from the other side, shutting the door.

"No, you will not. If you get hurt because of me, I couldn't live with myself."

Sighing, he walks around the vehicle until he reaches me again and offers his arm. "First, let's try. If it doesn't work, you stay very still, and then I won't get hurt while I carry you."

"Aran—"

"Just walk, woman."

I grunt just like he does all the time and grab his arm. It takes him a few tries to match my minuscule steps, which are all I'm able to take while it feels like my insides want to push out. It takes embarrassingly long to make it just to the building entrance, and on the way, I've complained at least ten times to his zero.

Aran stays completely silent as I groan and gasp through the snail's-pace climb of the first flight of stairs. At the landing, I clutch at the banister with one hand and him with the other because everything's swaying again. And we're not even halfway.

"Yeah, that's enough. Hold still."

"What—"

The world tilts, and gravity disappears for a moment.

And then I'm in Aran's arms again. Gasping, I cinch my arms around his shoulders. He bounces me a couple of times until he gets a comfortable grip.

"Are you sure?" I whisper in his ear.

"Just don't move."

I've never met a guy who could lift me up. And I never imagined there was one who could climb stairs while doing it. But I can't enjoy even a second because the pain seems to get worse with every step he takes. My head collapses on my arm that rests on his shoulder, and that's the last thing I'm aware of for a bit.

I come to at the sound of heavy breathing and a voice calling me. Shaking my head, I focus on it until I make out the words.

"Where are your keys?"

Something incoherent comes out of my mouth. I grab Aran tighter as he slides me back down to my feet. But neither of us trust them, and I'm glad he keeps his arm around me, pressing me up against him. My head on his chest bounces with his heavy breathing as I feel around my coat's pocket. Aran takes the keys from my hand and opens the apartment door.

"Thanks. I can take it from here." I sound drowsy as I speak.

"Sure, you can." Sarcasm drips from his words. With a huff, he picks me up again, and I groan.

"Your back?—"

"Stop worrying about me. I'm not the one who passed out in someone's arms."

"I did?" I slur.

Aran crouches a little to open my bedroom door. My vision blurs as he maneuvers us to enter the room sideways. With surprising gentleness, he sets me down on my bed.

"Yeah, you did." His eyes are dark as he stares down at me with a frown, hands on his hips, nostrils flaring with labored breathing. "Scared the shit out of me. I was this close to turning around and taking you to an ER."

I open and close my mouth. But I'm more surprised when he undoes the laces of my boots, chucks them off, and walks out of the room without another word. His steps recede and stop when the front door closes. And then it's silent.

I don't blame him for running away. If I could, I would.

Now groaning to my heart's content, I weasel out of my coat and push it off the bed. With just that small amount of effort, I pant harder than Aran after climbing two and a half floors with a fat girl in his arms. There is no position that can help me ease the pain, but I'm a side sleeper, so I turn and wither. Maybe if I stay like this for the rest of the afternoon, I'll start feeling better.

But then the front door opens. I wonder if it's Ryan, but on Wednesdays, she has a full schedule at school. My bedroom door opens, and Aran's deep, husky voice sounds again around my bed.

"Put this on." He appears in front of me, crouching to fiddle with something. Then he stands up holding a heating pad. "Stop giving me that look. Sometimes we get muscle cramps after training and need to alternate between hot and cold. This shit's amazing."

"I'm not judging." I smile a little.

Aran gives me the pad, and I put it against my stomach, trying to keep it upright. He moves away from the window and light streams into my face again. There's some rustling, and suddenly, my mattress dips with a heavy ball of heat and?—

Aran's arm comes around me, pressing the pad against my stomach until the heat seeps through my clothes. Until I'm glued against him. He pushes his other arm under my head until I feel his hot breath fanning my neck.

I lie very still as he murmurs, "Heat helps, according to my sisters."

Yeah. It helps.

It helps accelerate my heart from normal to about to spill out of my mouth along with words he won't want to hear. I blink hard, but that doesn't stop the tears from pouring from my eyes.

We stay like that until he has to head out for practice and well past the point of no return for me. Because that afternoon, as I lie in Aran's arms, his little spoon, I'm pretty sure I've fallen in love with him.