I turned to see his expression. When I saw that he was serious, I shot hum a dubious look. “Sleeping in between the toilet and the tub on a cold, hard tile floor with a vomiting idiot was one of your best nights? That’s sad, Trav.”“No, sitting up with you when you’re sick and you falling asleep in my lap was one of my best night.” (…) “Thanks, Trav. I won’t make you babysit me again.”He leaned against his pillow. “Whatever. No one can hold your hair back like I can.
Jamie McGuire, Beautiful Disaster
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