He rolled around on the bed shees, faceplanted on the pillow. As she fussed over him he flopped onto his back, squinting at her through his eye that wasn't covered in a blue and purple bruise. Despite the headache he pushed himself to sit.
"Don't think you can fix my pounding head." He rubbed his temple. How had he got there so fast? How in the world had such a small woman helped him from the car to his apartment so quickly?