My shoulders slump. Fine. He has a point. Nodding, I take the noodles from him.
As soon as I’m done with the fabulous meal—which, I admit, actually did hit the spot and soothed my raspy throat—Damon shoves a glass of water at me then takes the empty cup from me without asking. He puts it away, along with his own empty cup which I didn’t realize was on his nightstand.
Damon doesn’t say shit when I go right back to sleep, burying my face in my pillow.
***
My head’s more painful than ever the next time I come to. It’s dark, and I get up with a start, concerned that I slept the day through—only to realize that it’s dark because Damon drew the curtains shut.
My phone says it’s 4 p.m.
“Fuck,” I grumble. I don’t think I’ve ever slept this much in a day before.
Damon’s not in the room, and what feels a lot like dread fills me. I force that away though, because what the fuck is that even about? I drag my feet around the room, stretching, and it’s not until I glance toward the door that I realize it’s cracked open and Damon’s soft voice is right outside.
From the few words I catch, he’s speaking to Heather. Frowning, I approach him, stopping close to the door.
“He’s sleeping but I’ll tell him to give you a call once he’s up. He’ll probably want to,” Damon says. “Me? Personally, I wouldn’t mind sharing a room with him for a night or two more. He’s still sick and I’d feel better having my eyes on him… but it’s his decision.”
Huh?
Because I don’t want him to catch me eavesdropping, I back away as quietly as I can. I sit back down on the bed, and a few moments later, Damon comes in. He’s got his phone grippedin his hand, and in the other is a take-out bag labeled Mabel’s Diner. His eyes widen by a fraction when he sees me.
“Oh, you’re up.” He hands me the take-out bag. “Here are your goddamn croissants. I sincerely hope these are to your liking.”
I poke at the paper wrappings. “They’re cold!”
His expression pinches. “Apologies, your highness. Nobody was doing deliveries and no cabs were on the street, so they must have gotten cold during my thirty-minute walk back here.”
“What…?”
“Also, Heather said a room opened up at the Holiday Inn, if you want it. I’m cool staying here. Or I can be the one to go there.”
My eyebrows furrow together, and I replay what he said when he was on the phone.
He’s still sick and I’d feel better having my eyes on him.
Shit, what did I do to deserve this side of Damon?
I clear my throat. “I’d rather stay here with you, if you’re cool with that.”
He arcs an eyebrow at me.
“C’mon, Dee.” I grin widely at him. “I’m sick. Are you going to leave me to fend for myself? Remember what happened when you left me to fend for myself last night?”
“I was literally right next to you.”
“Yeah, imagine what would have happened if you weren’t. I need you. My life depends on it.”
Damon scoffs, but then he chews on his cheek for a moment.
“Okay,” he says after a long pause. “I mean… it is Christmas Eve tomorrow, and I guess spending it with you is better than nobody else.”
“Wow. I’m so flattered,” I say dryly, earning myself a laugh from him.
I lift my head and smile at him, and it takes me completely by surprise when he returns it.
Damon hasn’t smiled at me so warmly since that night I first met him. It makes me avert my eyes.
