He’s right.You’re not going to change my mind about checking in on you,I say quickly.
Eddie looks between the two of us, Joey’s wide, worried eyes and my raised eyebrow, then sighs dramatically.Fine.Yes.Rest.Fluids.Whatever the doctor said.
I stand, grabbing my jacket from the armchair.Good.Now, both of you listen.If you need anything, anything at all, you call me.Got it?
Yeah,Joey says instantly, his attention back in our direction.But Eddie hesitates.I roll my eyes at her, silently asking if we have to go through the whole song and dance again.
That’s…you’ve already done—She blinks, coughing again.You’ve done too much.Really.
I don’t look away.I take care of the people who matter to me.
Her lips part slightly, eyes searching mine.
You matter to me, Eddie.
Silence falls between us.Not awkward, just charged.Her cheeks darken.Not fever-flushed—something else.Something that makes my chest tighten in a way I have no business enjoying as much as I do.
I grab my keys, sling my bag over my shoulder, and give her one last slow smile.
I’ll check in later.
Joey gives me a thumbs-up.Eddie still hasn’t formulated a good argument, so she’s stewing on the couch, glaring at me.I wave as I head out the door.The cold air hits me, making me hurry down the front steps.By the time I get to the car, I’m grinning like an idiot.
My first time at Eddie’s place didn’t go as I had imagined.When I thought about taking that next step toward intimacy, it was more along the lines of us sharing a bed…not sharing germs.Yet I can’t help but smile at how great the night was—even with Eddie ill.
There’s a deeper understanding between us now.An intimacy and trust that isn’t easily won or often developed so early in a relationship.
I take that joyful energy and put it in my game that morning.Practice goes fantastic.I feel good on the ice, confident and sharp.I’m dialled in like someone had flipped a switch and pumped confidence straight into my bloodstream.
I haven’t had a feeling like this before a season start in a long time.Maybe ever.
This is going to be my season.I can feel it.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
EDDIE
The next time I wake up, I feel…marginally less like human roadkill.
Not good.Barely functional.But I can take a small inhale and not feel like a fireball and a cactus are fighting for supremacy in my throat.Progress, I guess.
Squinting toward the far end of my room, I can see the light leaking around my curtains is soft and gray.I’m getting really tired of not knowing what time it is.Every pill and cough syrup I take seems to have a sleeping aid in it.Or maybe I’m just exhausted from this damn illness.
My hand instinctually reaches toward my nightstand…but my cell isn’t there.It takes me an embarrassingly long time to realize where it must be.With Joey.Hadn’t Sidney said something last night and this morning about Joey calling him?
My lungs still burn when I inhale too deeply, and my head is doing this dull, persistentthud-thud-thudthat feels like someone’s rhythmically kicking the inside of my skull.But the fever haze is thinner.My thoughts move less like sludge and more like…very thick pudding.
I snort a laugh at my dumb joke and trigger a coughing fit.
You okay in there, Mom?Joey calls from the other room.Is there a bit of annoyance mixed in with his concern?
Fine,I croak back as loudly as I can.Which isn’t loud at all.
I force myself upright, gripping the blanket until the room steadies.The door to my bedroom is cracked open, and from the living room, I hear the unmistakable sound of TV chatter.Relief loosens every muscle in my body.Good, Joey’s distracted and will give me some space for the next thirty minutes so I can clean up a bit.
I feel like sweat is caked onto me.And I don’t even want to look in the mirror to see what’s happening with my hair.If I have the strength today, I’ll double condition it in the shower and pray it all brushes out in the end.
I sit there for a second, not ready to attempt standing again and breathing carefully.It’s then I notice a bright yellow square note on my nightstand and a basket filled to the brim with sick-girl supplies.
