“His throat hurts and he’s hot.”
Guy chuckled. “I know you two have history, but way to lay it out there, Markham.”
I stamped my foot and growled. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Oh shit, you got Sorrento’s kids’ sickness, didn’t you?” Mikey said.
“I couldn’t have gotten it that fast,” Nick objected.
“You were with Sorrento’s kids?” I asked.
“He was freaking out because two of them were sick and his wife was visiting her mom, so I went over to help,” Nick said, like it was natural that dudes help each other with sick kids.Color me impressed.He flinched again after talking. I raised my eyebrows at him. “I’m fine, Annie. It’s just allergies. Let’s eat.”
We sat around my slightly-too-big dining table, sharing pizza and wings. Nick tried to hide the tear in his eye when he ate a wing. Mikey and Guy carried the conversation, and I was still embarrassed that Nick was even there. Nick declined a beer, saying his head hurt. Through the course of eating, he got more and more red around the eyes, his dark circles more pronounced. He excused himself to the bathroom after dinner.
“Need anything else, Annie?” Guy asked as we tossed our paper plates in a garbage bag. “I think me and Mike are gonna take off.”
“Nick didn’t ride with you?”
“Nah, he drove separate. He lives closer to you.”
I twisted my lips. “Yeah, y’all can go. Thanks so much for helping me. Give your woman my best.” I gave him a hug. “And thank you for housing me for the last two months. You’re too good to me.”
Guy squeezed me before letting me go. “Anytime, Annie. We’re always here for you.”
Mikey and Guy called out goodbyes to Nick as they left.
Nick emerged from the bathroom looking like hell. “I’d better get home,” he croaked.
My brow knit. “You sure? Let me take your temperature.”
“You’ll have to dig it out of a box,” he objected.
“Sit,” I commanded, pushing him back to the couch.
“I can’t stay. I have to get home to Greg.”
I was already in the bathroom, digging through my medicine cabinet box. I located the thermometer and went back out to the living room.
“Open,” I said, putting the thermometer under his tongue. He looked so pathetic and vulnerable, a giant little boy with sick eyes. But I guess a thermometer makes anyone look pathetic. I cursed myself for having not invested in one of those forehead thermometers. The mouth ones always took forever.
But not this time. It beeped within a few seconds of being in his mouth.
“104?! Nick, you’re sick as a dog! Your brain is boiling!”
“I know,” he grumbled. “That’s why I’m trying to go home.”
“You can’t drive like that, Nick! You have to stay here.”
His eyes went desperate. “I have a dog, Annie. I can’t leave him.”
I chewed my lip. He looked dreadful. I shoved some boxes out of the way so I could close the front door properly and grabbed my keys.
“Wait here. I’ll pack a bag and take you home.”
I knew he was bad off because the fight had left him. I helped him up, putting my arm around his back as I walked beside him. I’d always been the caretaker for my little siblings growing up, especially when Mom was sick and couldn’t be around them. Even if it put me at risk, I kind of enjoyed the coziness of it all: curling up with them in bed, bringing them snacks and drinks, reading them books, patting their hair.
And here was Nick, helping me move while he was genuinely sick. Not only that, but he’d been really kind about helping me bail from Kitty’s wedding when I got my period. I owed it to him to take care of him. I didn’t have anything tethering me to my new house. He had his dog to look after.
