Another rivulet of tears raced down his cheek. When I reached to dry them with my thumb, I gasped again. His skin was on fire.
“Jesse, you’re burning up.”
He shook his head. “I asked her for a rainbow…and you sang her song.”
I frowned, unable to follow. Clearly, he was sick. Was he talking out of his head? “We need to get you in bed.”
“Are you…gonna be there?”
I shouldn’t take him seriously right now. “Stop. You?—”
My words were cut off by a hug so tight the air crushed out of my lungs. Jesse enfolded me into his chest, instantly burying his face in my neck. His hands gripped my hips so tightly it hurt. He said something—a word repeated several times, muffled into the top of my shoulder.
“Laurel.”
Wait. Did he think I was Laurel?
The way my shoulders fell didn’t make sense. I chided myself for the flame of jealousy that reared up in my heart. Of course he missed his wife. He probably thought about her all the time. It didn’t matter anyway. I needed to keep the main thing the main thing; Jesse needed my help because he was definitelynotokay.
“Thank you, Hollie,” he whispered.
Pushing away my confusion, I grabbed his forearms and wrenched them off of me. “Shower. Now.” Holding his hand, I pulled him to the bathroom and cranked the water to a mild temperature that wouldn’t make his fever worse.
He stepped up to the flow, temp tested it, then turned the hot knob full throttle.
I rolled my eyes. “If I hear anything that sounds remotely like a fall, I’m barging in here.”
His exhausted gaze found my eyes, his expression as sober as a judge. “I’ll make sure I fall then.”
I exploded in laughter, hanging onto the doorknob. Was this how Jesse acted when he was sick? Good grief, he was a mess. “Okay. You do that.”
Before I’d even fully shut the door, he let the towel fall andreached for the band of his underwear, beginning the strip right before the latch snapped shut. Wide-eyed, with a bank full of new core memories, I hurried to his dresser and rummaged up some sweats, a hoodie, and underwear and dropped those and a new towel on the bathroom sink for him. While he finished up, I prepped medicine and hydration on Jesse’s nightstand.
Luckily, there were no shower incidents and Jesse stepped out of the bathroom clean and fully clothed—quivering head to toe. He all but dove between the covers, his teeth chattering as he pawed the covers up to his chin. I sat on the edge of the bed and made him take some Tylenol and drink half a glass of water with electrolytes before lying back down.
I swiped his damp hair away from his forehead, marveling at the way his brown eyelashes brushed the top of his cheeks. He was so handsome. But more than that, I knew his heart. And, somehow, who he was inside made the way he looked all the dearer. He could’ve had a completely different face and been just as attractive to me. I gripped his hand resting on top of the covers. “I’ll be in the living room if you need me.”
He squeezed, halting my retreat. “Stay.”
“I’m not leaving you. I promise.”
His hand scorched a trail of fire as it slid to my elbow and tugged me down to his level. Fumbling with the top of the covers, he pulled them back and patted the mattress, making his invitation very clear.
He wanted me to lay down.
My chest grew tight as heat gathered low in my belly. I shouldn’t lay in his bed. My heart was in enough danger already.
But his weary voice dissolved my reservations. “Please, Hollie.”
Just for a minute.
Slowly, I eased down and one side of his mouth twitched with a fleeting smile. When my head hit his pillow, his scent wrapped around me and his right arm fused to my chest like a seat belt—fist at my chin and elbow against my ribcage. Was he aware at all? Did he realize his forearm was squished between my breasts? His knees behind mine, his chest on my back, his nose in my hair. I couldn’tbreathe. I was frozen in his arms—terrified to enjoy this too much. Terrified I might get used to being held like this.
Why did he have to live in Texas?
Texas.
I wanted to weep. He was so precious. He deserved the world—everything. And I hoped one day he would find it. He deserved more than the second-hand, strings-attached heart I could give him. Maybe he didn’t realize that. But, eventually he would. Hypothetically, if we did pursue something—long distance for now—he’d learn I had baggage hanging on every hook in my body. My insecurities and hurts weren’t background noise. They were loud, sometimes an angry mob of voices in my head. I couldn’t give that to Jesse and Cade, no matter how much I wanted to.
