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I should’ve gotten a shopping cart.
Hang in there, baby. I’m on the way.
When I click the lock button on my phone, I place it back on the counter, ignoring the blush fully heating my cheeks.
Through the cracked door, Jett’s still on his side, waiting for me to come fill the space I left open. His tattoo-covered skin and defined back are prominent, even in the dark shade of his bedroom.
He’d gone to sleep with a shirt on, but he must’ve removed it at some point, and I can’t stop the tingle that dances low in my belly as I stare at him.
He’s so sinfully beautiful.
As he stirs, I feel too far away, and my feet move before my mind can force them to stop. When I make it to my side of the bed, Jett’s lazy eyes are open and studying me.
“You okay?” His rocky whisper hits me right in my core.
“I didn’t mean to wake you,” I whisper back.
In a rush, I pull back the cover, making space for me to slide back in.
“You didn’t answer me,” he rasps.
“I’m fine. The first few hours are always the worst of it.”
I’d usually cringe at the idea of talking about my cycle with a man, but I know he’s only asking because he really cares.
“Do you need anything?” he presses, eyes still full of sleep, but my stupid hormones interpret it as something else.
Did I mention how much I hate my period?
Not only am I a walking bloodbath, I’m also the horniest I am out of the whole month.
“I think I’m okay. Sorry, I didn’t see all your texts earlier. My phone was charging.”
Unable to hide my smile, I angle my body on its side so I’m mirroring him.
“Would that be considered a crash-out?”
Bursting into a joint laugh, the air amongst us feels lighter today.
“Crashing out during your period is routine procedure, so I’d say it was valid.”
He nods tightly. “Well, I basically bought the whole store if you want me to run downstairs and get you a snack.”
“I think I’m okay right now. My stomach still kind of hurts.”
Not because of cramps. The ache between my thighs is crossing over to my stomach, especially since I have no way of getting rid of it.
“What usually helps with that? Do you need more pain meds? I can go get the heating pad.”
Shifting positions, Jett begins to rise, but I shoot my arm across the bed, stopping him.
“I’m fine. None of that will help. C-Could you maybe just rub it?”
Back in his same position, he rises on his elbow, giving himself more leverage to look down on my body. When I returned from the bathroom, I left my sweats, not wanting the tight band around my bloated stomach. Now, in nothing but a pair of panties and his T-shirt, I’m not making things any easier on myself.
“Come here.”
His rough morning voice scratches my insides.
