Chapter 125

Van grinned, crossed the room to the dresser, and returned to hand Tate a pair of briefs. Tate put them on—slowly, since moving exacerbated his headache. Then he took Van’s advice and brushed his teeth, as well as washing his face before dunking his head under the cold water. When he lifted it, Van handed him a bath towel so he could dry off.

“Thanks,” Tate muttered, running his fingers through his hair to tame it as best he could. He’d worry about combing it later, once he was dressed. He started toward the closet, only to find Van had beaten him there and was holding out a pair of jeans. “I think I can handle things from here,” Tate said, sitting on the edge of the bed to put them on so he wouldn’t fall. He wasn’t dizzy, but he wasn’t quite tracking right either. Looking around, he saw his shoes by the dresser where, apparently, Van had put them last night.