My back is so stiff it feels like I’ve got steel rods inserted in it, and I’m pretty sure someone put an iron ball into my head in the middle of the night. “Here.” Tate sets a glass of water and a couple of pills on the nightstand. “Ow!” I stop halfway sitting up. “My shoulders are hurting.” “Come here.” He wraps his arms around me gently and eases me up. “Shhh,” he whispers, putting a pillow behind my back and leaning me against it. “All right?” “Fine,” I whisper unconvincingly. “What are these?” I take the pills and throw them into my mouth before he answers. I don’t actually care—let’s be honest. “I guess it’s too early for vodka, huh?” Tate takes the glass of water with a smile. “Yeah, darlin’, way too early. You want breakfast?” “I don’t think I can get up yet.” “Good thing I already thought ahead, huh?”
