Houston, we have a problem.
Chapter 4
Lily
My steps dragas I leave the bakery and a horrendous headache is starting to pound behind my temples. My hips and knees are bothering me so much that it’s painful to take each step to reach my car.
“Hey, are you alright?”
I lift my head and there’s a girl standing in front of me. I know who she is but for the life of me, I can’t remember what her name is. Or why she’s there.
“Ummm…”. I can’t quite get my tongue to cooperate.
“Dad!” The girl starts jumping up and down and waving at something and it’s hurting my head and my eyes just watching her.
There’s a heat behind me and then a growled, “What’s wrong, Case?”
“There’s something wrong with Lily.”
I open my mouth to tell her that there’s nothing at all wrong with me but before I can, I feel my jelly legs start to give out and I stiffen my spine to keep from falling.
The deep voice behind me says, “Whoa!” And then I’m wrapped up in someone’s strong arms and he’s picking me up, carrying me like a child to his car.
He sits me on the front seat of a very comfortable SUV and studies my face, his own handsome one setting off a clenching in my belly.
Huh. Who knew you could get turned on when you were so tired you could barely lift your fingers?
But if any guy could do it, I guess this one could.
The voices around me fade in and out and it feels like we’re underwater with how garbled it all is. But then he moves closer and his ice-pale blue eyes lock on mine as he gently touches my jaw and turns my chin up.
“Do you need to go to the hospital?”
Shaking my head, I moan when all the movements make me feel nauseous and dizzy.
“Can you tell me what your address is? I’ll take you home.”
But nothing comes out. My eyes close and I slide down in the seat, exhausted, as everything goes black.
The first thingthat hits me is a smell. A delicious smell. I love Italian and for some reason I smell chicken parmesan. And the best kind of chicken parm.
Then I hear noise. A little bit of pans clanging around and a low murmur followed by a higher one.
The fabric that I’m lying on is a little bit rougher than the sheets on my bed. With my disease, my skin is super-sensitive and when I have a flare-up, my skin develops a rash whenever rougher fabrics touch me.
I find the softest cottons or silks so that I don’t get a rash.
Although these are nice fabrics, they’re not as nice as the ones I use. My skin feels a little itchy and I fight not to scratch at my arms and legs.
I sit up and stare around me, wondering where the hell I am. The last thing I remember is seeing Casey and her dad talking in front of the camera. Everything else after that was a big mushy mess of sights and sounds scraping along my nerves until I couldn’t take it anymore.
I know it hasn’t been very long since that but I feel a little better. Not one hundred percent but better.
Still have a bit of a headache though and my belly is turning. But that might be because I haven’t eaten since early this morning. I missed lunch to try and get my car tuned up. I got it done but I sat in that little room at the dealership and stared at the walls while they spent at least two hours working on it.
That probably didn’t help my situation at all.
The door opens and there’s a huge shadow in the doorway. “Ah! You’re awake.”
