Blake lay on his side on the bed, propped up on his elbow, watching Liv. The pills were starting to work; the pain in her head and body had subsided slightly. He reached out, his hand gently trailing, feather-light, across the soft skin of her bare thigh.
Liv shuddered slightly at the unexpected intimacy of the casual touch.
Blake’s face went slightly serious, the lazy amusement gone. “You really scared me last night, Liv,” he admitted, his voice low and raw. “I was worried I was going to lose you.”
Liv tightened her jaw. She took a deep breath, the pain of the truth sharper than the physical ache. “If I had known it had Fentanyl in it, I wouldn’t have touched it,” she insisted, her voice brittle.
Blake gently gripped her thigh, a move of pure comfort, not lust. He knew she needed the
