My tummy flips at the soft growl in his voice. At the tinge of bossiness in his tone.
He’s doing this. For me.
“It’s just so much money,” I say softly.
He pins me with that beautiful blue stare. “I make more than enough to pay for this. Stop worrying, okay?”
I swallow hard and nod. His gaze is watchful as he scans my face. Probably because of the heavy amount of costume makeup I’m wearing. Or because I look absolutely exhausted from this headache.
“Have you eaten lately?” he asks.
“I had some carrots and celery at the birthday party I worked earlier.”
He shakes his head. “That’s not enough. I’m taking you to lunch.”
Chapter 8
Camden
Itry not to stare at Ellie as she chows down on gluten-free chicken tenders in the passenger seat of my car.
I can’t help it though. I’m worried about her.
That uneasy feeling that dragged through my chest when I saw her standing in line at the grocery store pharmacy is still there. Her eyes were tired, and she looked so pale, like she was struggling not to vomit.
Now that she’s taken her migraine medicine and is eating, she looks a lot better. The color is back in her face, and her eyes are brighter, more focused.
“How are you feeling?” I ask for the millionth time.
She offers a sweet smile as she chews. She swallows, then takes a long sip of iced tea. “Better. Thank you for lunch.”
“Yeah, of course. How’s the headache?”
“Long gone.”
That knot in my chest loosens. I feel like I can breathe again now that she’s better.
Ellie finishes almost all of the food in front of her while gazing ahead at the small pond in front of us. After picking her up some food, I drove to a small park. I figured the quiet and fresh air would help her feel better.
When she catches me staring at her, her cheeks flush.
“What?” She wipes her mouth with a napkin. “Did I get ketchup on my face?”
I shake my head and smile. “No, you’re good. I’m just glad you’re feeling better. You’re looking better too.”
She lets out a soft chuckle. “I look like a weirdo.” She gestures down at the blue ball gown she’s wearing.
“You look beautiful, Ellie. You always look beautiful.”
She bites back a shy smile and fiddles with the straw in her drink.
“So you still deal with migraines then?” I ask.
Her smile fades, and she nods. She used to get migraines sometimes as a kid. I remember a bunch of times when I’d knock on her door to ask her to come play, but her mom said she couldn’t because she had a migraine and needed to stay inside.
“I always hoped I’d grow out of it. Some people do. But I’m not one of the lucky ones. Especially when you consider my food allergies.”
“What do you mean?”
