“Hey, it’s me.” With my head spinning the way it is, it takes me a moment to place the male voice.
“Bobby?”
“Yeah.” There’s a pause, then his tone softens. “You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m—” I reach up to rub my temples as another wave of dizziness hits. I can’t suppress my moan. “I’ve been better. Wait—what time is it?”
“Ten to twelve.”
Holy crap. I haven’t slept in like this since the first week I’d arrived here. Of course, I’d also completely forgotten Bobby’s taking me to lunch today. At just the thought of food my stomach punishes me, instantly twisting. “Shit. Bobby . . .”
“What do you need?” He asks without hesitation, and it takes me by surprise.Now there’s a question I haven’t heard from him in a long time. “Tylenol? My mom says a heating pad on her back always helps. I can run down to the local—”
“What? Oh . . .” Right, my supposed cramps from last night. I’m going to hell for all my lies. And I know just the guy to drag me there. “No, it’s not that. Think I must have caught something. I probably just need to sleep it off.”
“Listen, I’m downstairs in the lobby—”
My groan cuts him off. “I’m so sorry, Bobby. I should’ve called—”
“Jesus, will you stop interruptin’ me for a second?” I hear the amusement in his voice and nod, even though he can’t see me. “Thank you. Now get your ass back in bed. I’m gonna pick up some things for you, ’kay? I’ll be up in about fifteen minutes.”
My legs feel like they’re about to give out. I plop onto the bed with a long sigh, phone still pressed to my ear. As wonderful as it sounds to be taken care of right now, having Bobby locked in my room with me is a bad idea for too many reasons to count. “No, you really don’t have to do that. I’ll be fine. Just give me a few hours to sleep and I’ll call you later to reschedule.”
A low, exasperated breath sounds from the other end of the phone, but Bobby’s tone is gentle when he speaks. “You’re sick, Lou, and I’m standin’ in your lobby with an hour to kill. It’s not a difficult choice, all right?”
I’m silent, my skin getting clammier by the second. My throat is parched, but the thought of getting up to grab a bottle of water is exhausting.
“Lou . . .” He’s even quieter now, a waver in his voice that says he’s desperate for me to understand. “How am I ever gonna make up for all my wrongs if you don’t let me in when it counts?”
I take in a long, deep breath. It reminds me of the night he took me to dinner, when he’d stated something similar. He might still feel things for me that I’ve lost for him, but he’s also just a guy trying to make things right and get his life together.
“Okay.” It comes out like a whisper, partially because I don’t know if it’s the right choice and partially because I’m too drained to manage anything else.
Bobby madegood on his word, spending over half an hour at my bedside. A cool wet cloth on my forehead, a glass of fresh water to my lips, a thermometer in his hand, and the comforting scent of chicken noodle soup filling my nostrils. He even gives me a fever reducer when it’s time for him to leave.
Lifting the washcloth to touch the palm of his hand to my forehead, he mumbles, “Damn, I really don’t think I should leave you alone like this. If I didn’t have to get to the city—”
“Sick people stay home alone all the time.” I groan, not bothering to open my eyes.
“No, I know, just—” He lets out a low sigh. “Claire’s downstairs. I’ll fill her in before I leave, make sure she checks up on you.”
I grunt out a weak, “Thank you,” and feel his shadow loom over me as he stands, before cool lips softly touch my cheek. It’s comfortable, friendly, and I’m already drifting to sleep as the door clicks shut behind him.
Idon’t knowhow long it’s been by the time I start stirring again, but I’m freaking freezing when I do. The covers aren’t serving their purpose. Chills run up and down my body like a million ants made of ice. I squeeze the comforter, curling into it seeking heat.
But I feel none.
Out of the corner of my eye, blurred and foggy, I think I see someone sitting in a chair beside me. Dark hair, dark eyes. I feel him, the tease of a hot breeze floating just out of reach. He’s warm, so warm. If I could just get a little closer. I reach toward him, but the second my skin leaves the shelter of blankets, another wave of shivers rolls through me, making me wince and pull back.
I just need to get closer, I tell myself as my eyes fade back into a cloud of darkness. His heat. His warmth. Just . . . a little . . . closer.
Mmm. I burrow my head into the pocket of warmth beside me. God, it feels good. The chills haven’t totally let go of me yet, and my mind is somewhere between weak and loopy, like I’ve been drugged. But the more I rub against the solid, soothing heat pressing into my side, the more relief I feel.
On one half of my body, anyway. I’m lying on the left side of my bed, flat on my stomach. My right arm, hip, and leg are directly touching the source of the heat. The opposite side of me has been left in the cold, prickly needles racing down my arm and leg. Ugh, it isn’t enough.
I need more. Yes, if I can just get a littlemore.
Keeping my eyes closed, I lift my right arm, wrapping it around the solid warmth and scooting myself closer.
