My eyes flutter open to the spinning fan.
The spinning is too fast, and my lids fall closed.
I'm hot, sweating even. Kicking off the blanket, I allow the frigid air to hit my heated skin.
Almost immediately, I pull the blanket back up. It's too cold.
There is an ache in my head, it throb…throb…throbs behind my closed eyes.
I don't remember the last time I was sick. I was at least a pup.
Opening my eyes again feels like a hurdle I have to jump, but instead of settling on the fan, I turn toward the still open window.
The sun is higher than when I normally wake.
Snapping up has my head pounding, and my body tilts to the side, but I have to get up and see Maverick. I harbor too many questions that need answering.
Using the nightstand to stable myself, I brush against the flow
