He slowly helps me to lay back down, and once I’m there, he begins moving the blankets until I’m under them.
“What day is it?”
“You don’t know? It’s Saturday. Have you not been out of bed at all?”
I go to throw my arm over my face, when he grabs it. “Don’t hide from me, it’s alright. Just answer the question.”
There’s no shame in my answer, and I’m not doing what he’s implying—it’s just a comfortable position. “I got up to pee.”
Suddenly, a cool sensation settles against my forehead.
“And you didn’t think to take any medicine?”
I grumble, not wanting to explain that I’d feared I wouldn’t be able to make it back up the stairs… or that I hadn’t wanted to crawl into this bed because I worried I’d never want to get out of it.
“None was upstairs.” Yeah, I’ll go with that.
“Did you start feeling like this before I left for work?”
I nod.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” He sounds hurt, and my stupid heart clings to it desperately.
Because I thought I was having heart palpations over my attraction for you, not because I was sick.
“It didn’t really hit me this hard until you were gone,” I lie. “It’s… I’m fine… Wait.” Something hits me, and I really don’t need to ask because it’s pretty obvious, but I still do. “Did you leave work?”
I watch as he leans back from me, one hand resting on my side while the other runs through his hair. He pulls it free from the bun, letting it bounce past his collarbone. His head tilts back, and as his cheek brushes his shoulder and he looks at me, my heart somersaults.
“Your text was… concerning.”
My lips part in surprise.
“I texted you back, then called you, but nothing.” I don’t need him to explicitly tell me he was worried, because I can see it in his eyes that shift between mine.
I let out a light, nervous laugh. “And you just ran over to save me, huh?”
“Yes.” There’s no playfulness in his tone, and it keeps me from retorting something witty.
He reaches up and flips the towel over my forehead, letting out a heavy sigh. It’s one that screams of his own exhaustion, but before I can say anything, he asks, “Are you hungry?”
Honestly, everything hurts, including my stomach. It’s in knots, and I can’t tell if it’s from this cold, from him resting over me like this, or if I’m actually hungry.
“I think there is some tomato soup, maybe some minestrone.”
Turning my head, I look at the cup of water and reach for it. He doesn’t try to help, surprisingly. I’m able to drink it and place it back down, before adjusting fully back to laying down.
“Maybe some soup… then I can go back upstairs to sleep.”
He slowly gets to his feet as a soft laugh rumbles from his chest. “You think I squeezed us down those narrow stairs with you in myarms for me to just inevitably take you back upstairs? No, Ayden, you’ll sleep here.”
I swear I try to breathe, but it just locks up in my chest. He wants me to sleep in here? In his bed? With him?
Fear keeps me from asking, because I don’t know what I hope the answer will be—whether he’ll sleep beside me, or be a gentleman and take the couch, or another room. I’m a filthy liar to myself, because I absolutely know which one I want.
I must’ve zoned out because when I bring myself back to the present moment, he’s out of the room and instead, I’ve got bright blue eyes and gray fur shoved in my face.
Her loud purring as she presses against my face has me smiling. I’ve never had any animal be attached to my hip like this one. It’s quite strange, but I’ll admit, because of her I do feel much better the moments when Keo isn’t in the house.
