Nash jolted awake, recoiling in place as if he’d just fallen.
Then the mattress moved as Emmitt knelt over him, fully dressed, brows drawn together communicating his concern. “Sorry I woke you,” he whispered. “Are you feeling okay? Is there anything I can get you?”
Was he doing any better? “I think…maybe a bit better, thanks. Got some sleep, anyway. Tylenol would be nice, if you’re not in a rush.”
“I’ll be right back. I’ll get you a fresh drink.”
Nash sat up and shook the cobwebs out of his head. He glanced at the clock on the nightstand. It was just after five AM, so Emmitt hadn’t been called in; he was preparing to leave for early rounds.
The Tylenol bottle was on the nearer nightstand with a glass of water that must’ve been sitting there all night since Emmitt said he was fetching
