Page 70 of John + Siena: The Complete Duet

Siena nipped on her bottom lip. “Yeah?”

“Yep.”

“I’m supposed to be somewhere for work around eleven, or so.”

“I can take you there,” he promised, “and cabs do go to where I live.”

She laughed.

John waited …

He’d been waiting months for this, after all.

He could wait a few more seconds.

“Do you have good coffee?”

John chuckled, and bent down to press a quick kiss to her grinning mouth. He let his thumb drag over her lips as he pulled away. “The best coffee, actually.”

“Okay, your apology is accepted.”

“Thought so.”

“For now,” she added.

John could deal with that.

Typically, when John woke up to the sound of his phone dinging, it automatically put him in a shitty mood. He didn’t mind so much when he rolled over to grab the chiming device that morning because he was fucking satisfied.

Not at all tired.

Feeling damn good.

Yeah, satisfied.

He rolled to his back, and peered at the screen of his phone while he rubbed his palm down his naked chest. His hand rested just above where the sheet covered his semi-erection, and he scrolled through the text message update.

From the pharmacy, it seemed.

Prescriptions for Johnathan Marcello are ready to be picked up at—

John tossed the phone aside, already done with the message. He knew he had to go pick up his new dose of meds. He tried the higher dosage of Lithium with the mixture of antianxiety and mood stabilizer meds that the therapist wanted him to use.

His mind felt like a fog from it all.

The therapist had suggested she lower the dose of the Lithium. John hadn’t bothered to tell her, but he had already started to half the Lithium every day, anyway. It was the only way he could break his mind out of the medicated fog it created.

He’d grab the prescriptions, but he still had a good three weeks’ worth of his old meds before he had to worry about it. Then he would have to play the new pill game with the therapist while she tested yet another dose on him.

John didn’t even need to roll over in the bed to know that the other side was empty. He’d felt the loss of Siena the moment she crawled out of bed about an hour ago, and had only gone back to sleep when he heard the shower turn on from the connecting bathroom.

He rested his arm behind his head as a makeshift pillow, and listened. Something metal clanged downstairs—a pot, likely.

Unlike him, Siena didn’t seem to be a flight risk. She would have had every right to bolt on him even if she had promised to still be there in the morning after she dragged him into the bedroom.

He took that as a battle won.

Fucking that woman was like taking a five-mile run first thing in the morning. It woke him up out of the stupor that was his everyday life, and left him out of breath. She worked him good, made his muscles ache by the end of it all, but still feeling like another go ‘round was a likely possibility.