The Billionaire Next Door(49)

Sean stopped breathing and blinked hard. Then scrubbed both his eyes. As he looked at Lizzie, half of her was gone, dissolved in a shimmering halo.



“Crap.”



“Sean?”



“I’m having a migraine.”



“Have you gotten them before?”



“Once or twice.”



“Do you have medication?”



“No, because they don’t come frequently enough. I think you’d better call a taxi because I can’t drive right now. Oh, man…This is going to be a big one.”





***




When Lizzie got home at 4:00 a.m., she opened the door to her apartment quietly and snuck in. The place was dead dark and dead silent.



Carefully putting her keys and purse on a table, she kicked off her shoes and padded down the hall. She put her head through her bedroom door and was disappointed when she saw through the dimness that her bed was empty.



Before she’d left for work, she’d pushed Sean between her sheets and closed the blinds and the curtains and told him to stay put. Clearly, though, he’d gone upstairs at some point.



Which meant she was going to go check on him. She wanted to see how he was doing and give him some of the over-the-counter medicine she’d picked up at the hospital.



Before she went up, she headed for the bathroom and flipped on the overhead—



Lizzie froze.



Sean was on the tile, curled up next to her toilet, having obviously spent some time throwing up. Had he passed out? she thought with panic.



A moan came up from the floor. “Lights off. Please.”



She quickly hit the switch, and as blackness returned, he let out a ragged breath.



Kneeling by him, she whispered, “I have something for you to take if you’d like. Excedrin Migraine. It works very well or so I’ve heard.”



His voice was reedy, nothing like the deep bass she was used to. “Don’t think I could hold anything down.”



“You want to go back to the bed?”



“Not yet.”



“Do you need to go to the ER?”



“No.”



She left and came back with a pillow and a blanket. Then she did the kindest thing she could for him: she left him alone.



After using the hall bath, she got into bed and stared at the ceiling. Stress was a classic trigger for migraines and she was willing to bet his father’s death coupled with whatever news had come from New York, even though it had been positive, had been what did it. All that travel couldn’t have helped, either.



She thought of him lying in a ball on the floor. It was difficult to imagine someone as powerful as him being so fragile, but that was illness for you. As a nurse, she’d seen it so many times. Pain was the great equalizer, capable of stripping the crowns from kings.



She hated that Sean was hurting. And wished there was more she could do for him. Poor man…



She must have fallen asleep because sometime later the mattress wiggled. “Sean? How are you feeling?”



“Bad. Stomach has settled down though.”



“Can I give you the meds?”



“Yeah.”



She got the bottle, gave him two white pills with some water, and then lay back down beside him. As she turned to him, his hand came fishing through the sheets and the blankets and found hers. When he squeezed, she squeezed back.



“I’m right here if you need me,” she said softly.



“Thanks.” There was a stretch of silence. “I think I need you.”



“You want something to eat? Drink?”



“No. I just…think I need you.” He exhaled and fell silent.



She looked at the ceiling…and against her better judgment, beamed in the dark.





***





Chapter Twelve




“Could you please call my brother?”



It was late the next morning and Lizzie was standing over her bed, hands on her hips, clinical eye on Sean.



She ignored his request. “Have you ever had one that’s lasted this long?”



“Yeah. It’s been a decade, but yeah.”
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Boy, Sean was the color of kindergarten paste…except for the smudges of black under his eyes. His brows were cranked together, his breathing shallow. His big body was so still, it was obvious the slightest movement caused the headache to get worse. Still, he didn’t seem to be in any medical danger. He was just miserable.



“So can you call Billy for me?” he asked. “I’m going nowhere this afternoon. He’ll also know how to get hold of Mick.”



“How do I get in touch with your brother?”



“I’ll give you his number.”