Taryn
The nausea hit me like a tidal wave before I was even fully awake.
I barely had time to fling the covers off before I sprinted to the bathroom, collapsing to my knees as my stomach heaved. My hair fell forward, tangling around my face, just as I felt a warm hand gather it all and pull it back.
Caz knelt behind me, one arm holding my hair, the other gently rubbing circles into my back. “Hangovers are the worst,” he said softly, his voice still thick with sleep.
I coughed and spat into the toilet bowl, groaning. “I only had two glasses of wine,” I managed, wiping my mouth with shaking fingers. “There’s no way this is a hangover.”
“Then maybe something you ate?” he offered.
I shook my head. “You ordered the same thing. If it was food poisoning, you’d be here puking next to me.”
S
