If I’m feeling better, I’ll come to yours.
And if you’re not?
I won’t be good company.
I’ll come to yours.
I could argue, but I don’t have the energy. I pick up the mug. The liquid is cool enough to drink without scalding my tongue. I sip it slowly, letting the lemon and honey soothe my throat. The paracetamol in it will help my temperature and hopefully my stuffy head.
Mum rubs my back as I drink. “Want me to stay home?”
“No need. It’s just a cold.”
“It seems to have come out of nowhere.”
“I got wet yesterday.” I sneeze.
“You got caught in the rain?”
“Yeah. I got changed and warm as soon as I could, but not soon enough.” I push the empty mug away, fold my arms, and flop my head onto them.
“I’ll stay.”
“You don’t need to, Mum. I’m going to sleep it off.”
“Okay, but call if you need anything.”
“I will.”
I stay in the kitchen until Mum leaves and then return to bed. I lapse in and out of sleep and have strange fever dreams. I don’t check the time or my phone when I’m awake. The most I do is go to the bathroom to pee and drink water before bundling myself up in ever-increasing layers. I’m so damned cold.
The next time I stir, someone is stroking my shoulder. I blink my eyes open.
“Hey, gorgeous.”
“Sir.” I turn and cuddle up to him.
He puts the back of his hand against my forehead. “Just a cold, huh?”
“Yeah.”
He leans down and kisses my hair. “I think you’re downplaying it a bit, baby. You’ve also got too many layers on.”
“But I’m cold.”
“I know, but you’re overdoing it. Come on.”
I grumble as he pulls the quilt away, sits me up, and peels off most of my layers. He covers me with a thinner blanket and then slips away, only to return a few moments later with a damp cloth, which he lays over my forehead.
“You don’t need to be here,” I mumble.
“I want to be, gorgeous.”
I frown. “My nose is full of snot, I probably stink, and I can’t keep my eyes open. I’m not gorgeous right now. I’m also going to be shit company.”
He lies beside me and holds me. “You are beautiful, and I don’t care if you’re not good company. I’m here to take care of you. If all you want to do is sleep, that’s fine.”
I press my hand against his chest. His strong heartbeat is comforting as it thrums against my palm. This is above and beyond what a friend would do, even one that comes with benefits. I sniff. Tears flood my eyes.
