God, that sounds amazing, but my stomach twists at the thought. The ache is deeper now, pulsing with each heartbeat. “Maybe later. I just need to rest.”
I push back from the table and stand, and the room tilts.
My legs feel like they’re made of jelly. There’s a tremor running through my whole body, and the heat has spreadeverywhere now. My skin and insides are burning. I feel like I’m running a fever and freezing at the same time.
I make it to the couch and sink into the cushions, pressing a hand to my forehead. Definitely burning up. The ache in my stomach is intensifying, radiating outward into my limbs, and I have to close my eyes against another wave of discomfort.
What is happening to me?
I hear the guys moving around, dishes being cleared, water running, the sounds of cleanup. I focus on breathing, trying to will the strange symptoms away. It’s probably just exhaustion. Stress. The chaos of the last few days catching up with me.
Except it felt like this last night too. And a bit the night before.
Footsteps approach. When I open my eyes, Seth is there with a cold, damp kitchen towel. He presses it gently to my forehead, and the coolness is such a relief that I actually whimper.
“This should help,” he says, his voice softer than before. “Are you feeling sick?”
Carter appears with a steaming mug. “Chamomile tea. Thought it might help.”
Kai is hovering behind them, his usual playfulness replaced by genuine worry. “What can we do? Tell us what you need.”
I stare at the three of them, surrounding me with care and attention, and something in my chest aches for entirely different reasons than my body.
“The last couple of nights,” I admit, my voice shakier than I’d like, “I’ve had these sharp pains. All over. And I keep getting really hot, like I’m running a fever that won’t break.” I shake my head. “But I’m sure it’s nothing. Probably just exhaustion from everything that’s been happening.”
“You should rest,” Seth says firmly. “In a bed. Not on a couch.”
“That’s what I’m trying to?—”
I start to stand, and my legs buckle.
Carter catches me before I hit the floor, his arms wrapping around me with surprising gentleness. And then he’s lifting me, scooping me up like I weigh nothing, cradling me against his chest.
“Come on,” he says. “I’ll carry you up.”
“I can walk?—”
“You almost just face-planted into the coffee table. Let me help.”
I don’t have the energy to argue. And honestly? Being held by him feels… incredible. The moment his arms wrapped around me, something in my body settled. The burning sensation is still there, but it’s muted now. Manageable. Like his touch is somehow dampening the flames.
I let myself lean into his chest, inhaling the scent of him, and the ache in my stomach eases another fraction. I exhale with relief.
“That actually feels better,” I murmur, surprised.
Seth and Kai are watching us with concern etched into their features.
“Don’t worry,” I tell them, trying for reassuring and probably sounding pathetic. “I’m fine. Really.”
Neither of them looks convinced, but they let Carter carry me toward the stairs.
Up in my room, the pink explosion of cushions and blankets and that ridiculous Kai body pillow are waiting on the bed. Carter sets me down gently on the mattress, then shoves the pillow aside with one hand, making room.
The moment he steps back, no longer touching me, the pain returns with a vengeance.
It’s sharp, stabbing, deep in my core and radiating outward like lightning. I gasp and curl in on myself, one hand pressed tomy stomach, the other reaching blindly for something—anything—to hold on to.
“June?” Carter’s voice is alarmed. “What’s wrong?”
