His brow raises. “You were sick again?”
“Well, not totally. It was just starting, I think. It hit me hard, all at once.” I pause, mentally reviewing this past week. “Actually, ever since that last fever I’ve been feeling a little off—”
“How so?”
I shrug. “Dizzy spells. Fatigue. Not all the time, but enough for it to be annoying.”
“And your heart?”
“My heart?”
“Yes,” he growls impatiently. Then he pauses, eyes falling closed as he pinches the bridge of his nose. His tone is strained when he calmly clarifies, “Have you noticed any differences with your heart?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.” I have to stop again to think about it, but it doesn’t take long to remember the way my heart started fluttering the first day I’d been ill. “Yeah, when I had that fever. My heartbeat felt different. It wasn’t steady like usual, but more like a flutter. It was fast and light and just strange. Almost like it wasn’t really . . . like it wasn’t fully beating.” Oh, shit. Suddenly that sounds really, really bad.
He lets out a deep breath, then hangs his head low to his chest for a few seconds before bringing his now heavy gaze back up to mine. “Of course,” he mutters, leaning back against the seat and pursing his lips.
“‘Of course’ what? Did I miss something?”
He shakes his head, his fingers rubbing his jaw. “No. I did.” He bites the words out. “I should have known this could happen.”
“What could happen?”
“Your body, it’s . . . adjusting. Acclimating itself to my world.”
My eyes just about pop out of their sockets. “Excuse me?” I’m not adding anything useful to this conversation, but I can’t seem to assimilate anything properly right now.
“In order for you to fully cross into my world, your body would have to be . . . well, lessbody, and moresoul.”
I blink. “Except, I’m definitely body.” I flip the throw off of me in demonstration and run my hands up and down my waist, my hips. “All body. See?”
His eyelids lower, gaze clinging to each spot my hands touch. A thick swallow passes through his throat, and I realize I should probably stop groping myself in front of him. “Yes,” he all but groans, “I do see.”
“Sorry,” I mumble as I scrunch my face, pulling the throw back over me. Such a tease.
He rips his eyes away, scrubbing a hand down his face as though to clear his mind. “Do you remember what I told you before about the universe being confused? Blurring us together?”
I nod. I get the feeling I’m not going to like where this is going.
He pushes himself up from the chair, taking the single step toward my bed until he’s close enough to touch. He doesn’t sit though, just hovers over me, his heat tickling my skin and his blazing eyes devouring mine. “Lou.” It’s just my name, but his voice is smooth, low, and caresses parts of me I didn’t know a voice could reach. “Give me your hand.”
I comply without thinking. His own large hand wraps fully around mine, shooting a ripple of warmth straight up my arm, down my chest, and pooling low in my stomach. He raises my hand until it rests palm-down on his chest. Now it’s my turn to swallow. My gaze flickers from his face to his chest, unsure of where to land.
“Do you feel it?” he murmurs.
I pause, focusing my attention on the hard lines pressed up against the palm of my hand. I’m just about to ask what he’s referring to, when a soft thump beats beneath my touch. And then another. And another. It’s faint, barely noticeable in fact, but it’s there. I lift my chin to see his face, my voice almost a whisper when I say, “I feel it.”
His lips curve up, just on one side and not enough to show his dimple. The natural brightness of his eyes seems to have dimmed somehow, and I realize there’s something broken about this smile. “I’m not supposed to have a heartbeat.” With my hand still against his chest, the soft rumble of his voice vibrates through my body. “See, my body started adjusting too, Lou. For your world, for you. I couldn’t fully be here, all of me, until my heart began to beat.”
I don’t like the sadness coloring his tone, the foreboding look in his eyes. I smile up at him, eyelashes batting. “Are you saying that your heart literally beats for me, Gumdrop?”
His dimple flashes then, his eyes brightening gorgeously for a moment before quieting back down. “I think I’m saying that and more, Lou.”
My smile falters as I try to process his words. There’s no trace of humor in them, like there had been in mine. The way my heart squeezes at his response makes me seriously hope I’m not reading more into it than he intended. Before I have the chance to overthink it any further, he removes my hand from his chest and takes a step back, quietly lowering himself back into the rocking chair.
The sudden silence surrounding us makes me realize how tired I am, physically and mentally. I’m an aching mess from my head to my toes, and my heart is filling with a worry I don’t quite understand. “What’s going to happen to me? To both of us?”
He eyes me carefully for a second, a crease forming between his brows that tells me he can see the worry etched into my face. His hand comes up, and his fingers run gently through the long strands of my hair. Once, twice, that’s it before he pulls back, but I’m already sighing.
