Slowly, he peels his eyes open, and something physical twists deep beneath my chest. He looks so miserable, and the nurturing part of me just wants to take care of him, make him better however I can.
“Might have some Advil in the cabinet beside the fridge.”
“Okay.” I hurry to the cabinet and grab the bottle, pouring out a few of the pills and grabbing a bottle of water from his very bare fridge. “Here. Take these. It should help. You’ll probably feel better once the fever finally breaks,” I say as I hand him the medicine and water.
Slowly, he sits up and props himself against the wall behind him, resting heavily on it. Thankfully, he takes the pills and downs the entire bottle of water without argument.
While he’s being agreeable, I grab the soup out of the microwave and one of his lone spoons and bring it to the bed.
“Try and see if you can eat some soup. It’ll probably help too.” Carefully, I set it on the box next to his bed.
Wilder lifts a brow, the smallest hint of a smirk pulling at his lips. “Not used to you being the bossy one.”
I shrug. “Desperate times.” I’m just teasing him, but his expression sobers, and his eyes narrow.
“You don’t have to be here taking care of me, Maisie. I’m a grown man. I can take care of myself.”
“Yeah? Not so sure, Coach. It looks like you’re about to keel over any second now.”
He levels his gaze, and I already know what’s coming, the conversation turning serious despite my teasing, so I reach out and curl my fingers around his wrist, careful not to jostle the bowl. “I know I don’t have to be here. But… I want to. It’s okay to let someone take care of you, Wilder.” I watch his throat bob, eyes flickering with something I can’t put my finger on. “But if you really do want me to leave, I’ll leave. But I’d rather be here.”
For a second, he’s quiet, his dark eyes bouncing between mine before he finally says, “Okay. Stay, Maisie… please.”
CHAPTER
THIRTY-FOUR
WILDER
I could blameit on the fact that I’m delirious, sicker than I’ve ever been in my entire damn life. I could blame it on the cough medicine that I asked Maisie to stay.
Deep down, buried beneath all the denial, I know it’s bullshit.
I asked her to stay because for the first time in my entire life, someone gives a fuck. And maybe right now, I don’t know, I don’t want to be alone.
Maisie’s just so fucking…good.All the time.To everyone she meets. Random people at the grocery store, the kids in the program, the guys on my team, her friends. So full of sunshine every damn second of the day that I just want toexistin her warmth without worrying about consequences or what it means that I do.
That’s it. There’s nothing complicated about it.
“Okay. Then I’ll stay,” she says simply, giving me a sweet smile that makes my stomach tighten. “But you have to eat this soup, or I’m going to be very offended. I made it from scratch.” She reaches for the bowl that’s sitting beside the bed and hands it to me.
It smells fuckingdivine.So good that my stomach growls loudly enough that even Maisie hears it.
Fuck, I can’t believe shemademe soup. Took time out of her day to make me homemade soup, not pouring something out of a can, and came all the way over to my apartment, at my doorstep, and immediately jumped into caretaking mode. She doesn’t seem to care about getting sick herself or giving up her evening to be here with me.
Who the hell is this girl, and of all people, why is she wasting time onme?
When I’m giving her orgasms, I get it. Hooking up is mutually beneficial. But there’s nothing I can give her right now. Nothing I can offer her. And yet, she’s… still here.
And I just don’t understand it. Nothing in my life has ever been given without conditions.
“Wilder,” she prods, and my gaze snaps to hers, pulling me out of my thoughts. “You were zoning out. Eat.”
I shove a swallow down my aching throat and take a bite.
Holy fucking hell.
Shemadethis?
