I hear his phone ding from the other side of the door, and the knock that follows is almost instant.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m dying,” I say. “It’s been lovely knowing you.”
“Tyler, seriously. What’s wrong?”
“Fever, chills, full body aches.”
“I’m coming in,” he says.
“Don’t you dare!”
He, of course, doesn’t listen. Instead, he steps into my room wearing pajama bottoms and a gray t-shirt, his hair mussed from sleep.
“What are you doing in here?” I say, peeking my head out from under the covers, my voice coming out all squeaky and barely audible.
“What medicine are you taking, and when did you take it last?” He asks, ignoring my question completely and sitting on the bed beside me.
“I just took some when I texted you,” I say, deciding I don’t have the energy to argue with him right now. “I haven’t been able to sleep, so it’s been easy to keep it in my system. Even though I don’t feel like it’s helping. I don’t think I’ve ever been this sick in my life.” I groan as he presses the backof his hand to my forehead and reaches for the thermometer on my nightstand.
The thermometer beeps three times in quick succession and he looks at it and frowns.
“One-oh-three,” he says, placing it on the bed next to me. “And that’swithmeds in you?” I nod, and his brow creases. “I don’t like that. If it gets any higher, we’re detouring to a hospital.”
“You meanI’mdetouring to a hospital?” I ask, assuming I either heard him wrong, or he misspoke.
“No, I meanwe.”
“Eric, we have no idea what in the hell I picked up,” I say. “You shouldn’t be anywhere near me.”
“You have an extremely high fever,” he says. “I’m not leaving you alone until it breaks.”
“What if it’s the flu? What if I give it to you?”
“Then I’ll have the flu.”
“Eric…” I argue.
“Tyler…” He argues back, before letting out a sigh. “Look, if it makes you uncomfortable that I’m in here, I’ll go, but if you’re only worried about my well-being, don’t be. I’ve been doing this a long time. My immune system is an impenetrable fortress. I’ll be fine.”
Despite how shitty I feel, I smile and close my eyes, and when I open them again, it’s dark in my room and Eric is sleeping on his stomach next to me on top of the covers. I roll over and pick my phone up off the nightstand to check the time: 11:17 p.m. Shit, have I really been sleeping for almost fifteen hours? Has Eric been here the entire time?
I stretch, groaning when I realize my muscles are as sore and heavy as they were earlier, and I must have groaned a littletoo loud, because Eric jolts awake and pushes himself up onto his elbows.
“Are you alright?” he asks, his voice deep and gravelly, sending a completely different kind of shiver through me. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, I’m fine,” I say. “I’m sorry I woke you.”
He reaches for the thermometer that’s now on the nightstand on his side of the bed and presses it to my forehead. When it beeps, he looks at the screen and frowns.
“Still one-oh-three,” he says, setting the thermometer back on the nightstand and turning onto his side to face me.
“I’m fine,” I say again, pulling the covers up to my neck, a fresh wave of chills turning me into the human equivalent of a chihuahua.
“Is that so?” he asks, staring at my shaking body and suppressing a smile.
“Tell me a story,” I say, nestling into him. He doesn’t touch me, but he doesn’t move away, allowing me to tuck myself against his body, the warmth of it seeping through the blankets and into my bones, calming the full-body shivers that were just wreaking havoc on me. “Distract me.”
