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“So, taking care of you is overbearing?”

“Yes,” I shout. But it’s not. I love it. I hate it. I hate that I love it.

“Well,” he starts, moving to take something out of the bag. “Then I guess I’m about to get a whole hell of a lot more overbearing.”

He takes out a bottle of Gatorade and places it on the kitchen island in front of me. Then he takes the little box in his hand, opens it up to reveal a bottle. He opens it and shakes out two pills onto the palm of his hand.

Taking the bottle of Gatorade, he opens it and looks at me. “Open.”

“What?” I glare at him.

“Open your mouth, Cove.” The growl in his tone makes me shiver.

I want to tell him to go fuck himself, but I find myself doing as I’m told. But I’m not happy about it!

Opening my mouth, with a bit of sass, I wait. He places the two pills on my tongue and takes the bottle, bringing it to my lips.

“Swallow.”

I do, just realizing as the pills go down that I have no idea what he just gave me.

“Did you just drug me?” I accuse.

He rolls his eyes. “No.” Then he shows me the bottle.

My whole body fucking melts when I realize he just gave me pain meds.

A bit of guilt creeps in for how much of a bitch I’m being right now. Not that I have much control over it.

“How did you know I needed them?” I ask. “I just mentioned it to Saint like two seconds before you walked in.”

“Because I knew you would,” he replies unhelpfully and caps the Gatorade before going over to the bags. He grabs them and dumps them out on the island. “Just like I knew you’d be needing these.”

My eyes widen in shock as I take in all the bags of candy and chocolate bars.

“I know you’re not a fan of ice cream unless it’s soft serve. I ordered a machine to make them ourselves, but for now, I hope this will do.”

I’ve been rendered speechless, not sure what to think or what to say.

“You got me all this?” I ask in a soft whisper.

He nods, then leans over and kisses me on top of my head.

I stare at the candy, my heart fucking melting as tears sting the back of my eyes.

“I’ll get the hot water bottle ready. There’s also a heating pad you can plug in on the table,” he informs, moving to pull something out of the fridge. “I know you don’t like to eat real food that much when you’re feeling like this, but I don’t like the idea of you just eating junk food, so I made a compromise.” He pulls out a bowl of chocolate-covered strawberries, then places another bowl of frozen cotton candy grapes next to it. “Fruit, but in a fun way.”

I blink up at him, literally dumbfounded.

“Eat,” he commands, pushing the bowl towards me.

He turns around, ready to leave.

“Wait!” I stop him. He keeps saying he knows. He knows. He fucking knows. What does he know and how? “How did you know I’d be needing all this?” I know they stalked me, they know all about me—they know too much, if you ask me—but he knew the exact moment I’d be needing all this.

“Because I know you started your period. I wanted to make sure you were comfortable and had everything you needed. We already stocked your room with tampons and pads, but if you need anything else, just let me know. This did put a kink in our plans, I was hoping you’d agree for us to get you pregnant before you started menstruating, but we can work on conceiving once you’re finished. If you’re not ready right after, we can try when you’re ovulating.”

“So romantic,” Saint snorts from the background.