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It’s almost accidental, the way his pinky brushes mine. But he doesn’t pull away. Neither do I. His nudges mine again, just barely. Slowly, I curl my finger around his. His breath catches and he tightens his grip. Above us, another cloud moves across the sky.
“See?” he murmurs. “That one’s a lion.”
I swallow, staring at the same stretch of sky even though I can’t see anything clearly anymore. “It definitely is something,” I whisper.
16
PEYTON
The tiles are cold beneath my feet as I grip the edge of the sink when another cramp twists through me. I want to scream, but it won’t help or make me feel better. The pain is already coiled low in my abdomen. I take calming breaths as if I can bargain with my own body, telling myself maybe it won’t be that bad. I press a palm against my stomach, waiting for the wave of nausea to pass.
By the time I shuffle into the kitchen, I know I look as bad as I feel. Ollie is at the counter with Tilly balanced in his arms, mumbling about bottles and burp cloths.
He lifts his head at the sound of my footsteps and his expression changes immediately. “You okay?”
“My period started this morning.”
His gaze drops briefly to my middle, then moves back to my face. “Anything I can do to help?”
My answering head shake is enough for him to wince in sympathy. The cramp that hits next steals the air from my lungs and folds me in half without warning. My fingers clamp onto the counter as I try to stay upright.
Ollie moves fast, but not frantically. “Let’s sit down, okay?”
I let him guide me to the couch. Pretending I can power through this would be performance art at this point, that’s how much everything in my body aches. The pain radiates into my lower back and down my thighs like I just ran a marathon.
“Don’t worry, it usually eases after the first two days,” I tell him.
“I can take today off if needed.”
“No. It’s your—”
“Peyton.”
The way he says my name is firm enough to cut through the pain. “Yes?”
“I don’t want to leave you alone, so I’m calling Rose. She works from home, so her schedule is more flexible.”
Another cramp rolls through me, deeper this time. I close my eyes. “Okay,” I whisper. “Maybe a little help won’t hurt.”
When Rose arrives, she sets her bag down beside the couch where I'm curled up. “How bad is your pain on a scale of one to murder?” she asks, launching into caretaker mode.
“Arson,” I breathe. “Definitely arson.”
“So a solid seven.”
“Exactly.”
Ollie hovers nearby, trying to be useful without getting in her way.
“Heating pad?” Rose asks him.
“Plugged in and ready to use,” he answers.
“Pain meds?”
“She already took some.”
“Tea?”
