Her head tips against my shoulder, rain collecting in her hair. The skin of her face burns against my neck. My girl has a fever. A bad one.
“You’re burning up,” I tell her. “You need a doctor.”
She shakes her head, voice thin. “Please. No doctor. Just… cold medicine, maybe. I get like this when I don’t sleep. I’m just run down.”
“Baby—” I swallow down the rest of my sentence when I realize what I’ve just said.
“I mean it,” she says, pushing at my chest. Her hand feels like nothing. Weak, trembling. “Just cold medicine.”
“Easy.” I slide an arm under her knees and lift her in my arms. She’s all warmth and stubbornness and soft breaths that keep catching in my collar. “You can argue later.”
Her lashes flutter as she looks up at me, eyes glossy, lips parted in a half-smile. “I see you watching me all the time. For such a psycho,” she murmurs, “you’re very handsome.”
That almost makes me laugh. Almost. I guess I’m not as good of a stalker as I thought. I’ve made myself known a few times, but now I’m wondering how often she knew I was following her.
She tilts her head, studying me like she’s trying to see through the fog of her fever. “Sometimes I feel like I know you.”
“Yeah?” I swallow hard, but I start walking toward campus. I’ve gotta get her out of the rain and her fever down. I could see the fear in her eyes when I mentioned the doctor, so I’m going to try to do everything I can to avoid that.
“Mmhmm.” She blinks slowly. “But my memory is not great, so I’m probably imagining it.” I can tell by the tone she’s using that the fever is clouding her judgement.
I huff out a laugh because I don’t want to alarm her or tip her off that I know way more about her than she could ever anticipate. “It’s a good thing I’m not a creep. Anyone could’ve found you.”
She sighs, cheek pressing into my throat. Her voice is barely a whisper now. “But you did. You always find me.”
LIVY
Idon’t remember the walk from the pub very clearly.
The world feels like it’s moving in slow motion, my head heavy against Sebastian’s shoulder as he carries me through the dark streets toward campus. Wind brushes against my skin, but it barely registers through the warm haze wrapping around my thoughts.
His arms are strong around me. Effortless, like he could carry me like this all day.
I curl a little closer without thinking, nuzzling my face into the warm curve of his neck. His skin smells faintly like clean soap and something spicy that makes my stomach flutter in a way I can’t register at this point.
I’ve never been this close to a man before.
Not with his arms wrapped around me like I belong there. Even the way his fingers brush the side of my breast, down my ribcage and squeeze gently feels so natural. If any other guy I’ve met at St. Killian did that, I’d slap them in the face.
The realization should make me panic.
Instead, I feel… safe.
Exhaustion drags at every part of me, the kind that comes from nights spent staring at the ceiling while my mind spinsitself into knots. I haven’t even been spending time in the research library like I wanted to. I haven’t found any new information on my parents, and that’s really starting to bother me. Not to mention everything else that’s been going on in my life.
The girl I found taking what could have been her last breaths has been heavy on my mind. It turns out she’s Soph’s sister, Savannah, and they both live in town and don’t attend St. Killian. She thanked me when I ordered my tea for saving her sister’s life, and I could tell how much of a toll this has taken on her. I was surprised she was at work, but she said her sister was recovering, still in the hospital.
I didn’t want to pry, but I asked her if her sister remembered who attacked her. Soph said the last thing she remembered was being at a rugby party after the game, and she woke up discarded in the bushes. Soph is madder than hell, and she’s determined to find out who hurt her sister.
I’m committed to doing everything I can in order to help her.
“You still with me, baby?” Sebastian’s voice is low, husky, and the term of endearment rolls off his tongue so easily, like he’s been calling me that for years.
My fingers curl weakly in the front of his shirt. “I don’t sleep…ever,” I murmur, my voice barely more than a whisper against his throat. “I crash every once in a while. I’ll be fine.”
I don’t know what I’m expecting Sebastian to do or say about my admission, but when his lips brush the top of my head, I gasp.
It’s so soft and gentle, somehow even an intimate thing that surprises me.
