Page 230 of Where We Stay

He took it in stride.

Bless him.

Dean is already awake, because of course he is. He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, watching me like I might disappear if he looks away.

“Morning,” I say, giving him a flat smile.

“Morning, baby.” His eyes move over my face.

“You’re staring.”

“I know.”

“Creepy.”

“Don’t care.”

I swing my legs over the side of the bed, planning to make myself a coffee, but Dean is on his feet before mine even touch the floor.

“What are you doing?” he asks, rushing over like I’ve just fallen down a flight of stairs. “Lie back down.”

“I’m making a coffee. Chill, babe. I’m not broken.” I laugh and try to stand, but I don’t get far before he plants himself in front of me.

The worry in his eyes stops me from teasing him again. I lift my hand to his face, and Dean turns his cheek into my palm.

“I thought I was going to lose you yesterday,” he admits, his voice rough.

To my surprise, his eyes start to water.

“But you didn’t.” I smile softly and kiss the corner of his mouth. “I’m still here.”

“I think that grants me the right to be a little annoying today.” Dean places a hand on my shoulder and gently guides me back toward the pillows. “Lie down. I’ll get your coffee.”

“Yes, sir.” I salute him, laughing until a sharp pain shoots through my ribs and steals the air from my lungs.

A cold reminder that I am, in fact, not okay.

Dean’s mouth lifts into a smirk. “Sir? That’s actually kind of hot.”

“Go make my coffee, Ashford.”

He laughs as I settle back against the pillows. Honestly, coffee in bed doesn’t sound half bad.

My phone starts ringing on the bedside table, and the sudden noise makes me jump. My heart takes off before my eyes land on the name.

Jerry.

I grab the phone and answer. “Hey, Jerry.”

“Kid.” Relief floods his voice. “How are you?”

“Getting there. How are you?”

Jerry goes quiet, and for a second, I think the call has cut out.

“Jerry?”

“I thought you were gone yesterday, kid,” he says, his voice cracking. “I’m happy to hear your voice.”