In seconds, I’ve closed down my computer and I’m at her side.
“I’m right here,” I tell her, grabbing the bottle of water and helping her lift up enough to take a drink. “How do you feel?”
“Better,” she says, slowly sitting up and looking around. “How long have I been out?”
I look at my watch. “About six hours.”
Her face falls at that. “I’ve missed the whole day with you.”
“No, you haven’t. We had a great day together. You slept with your head in my lap, and then I worked while you softly snored. It was perfect.”
She wrinkles her nose at me. “Well, that’s super sexy.”
I wink and hand her the Gatorade. “It was. I love being able to look over and see you anytime I want. Plus, you kicked the covers off an hour ago, and I’ve had one hell of a view.”
She gives a soft laugh, still being careful to not move too quickly or speak too loudly.
“You sure you’re okay?” I ask while I run my eyes over her. She fell asleep with the washcloth over her eyes and there are several creases on her face from rolling over and lying on it, herhair is sticking up in multiple places, and there’s still a flush to her skin and a tired look in her eyes.
“I’m fine.” She notices me staring at her and groans. “I can’t imagine how awful I look right now. You weren’t supposed to see me at my worst yet.” A tiny grin slips through, giving me just a hint of her dimple. “I was going to save that for later.”
“I was just thinking that you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” She raises a brow at me before taking another drink. “I’m being serious. You’re stunning, Van, the only person on the planet who could look sexy while sick. Cindy wants you to call her when you’re feeling better, by the way.”
“Cindy called?”
“No, I called Sasha so I could ask her about your migraines. I wanted to know if there was something else I could be doing.”
I get a quick glimpse of her deep dimple before she leans forward and wraps her arms around me in a big hug. I quickly return it and then lift her so she’s in my lap and we’re chest to chest. The sheet slips down, and I rub my hand along her bare back while her breasts press against my chest. I’m still not wearing a shirt, and I sigh at how good she feels while I continue to stroke her back and hair.
“Thank you for taking care of me,” she whispers against my neck.
“I’ll always take care of you. I ordered some groceries, too. Do you think you could handle some soup?”
“Yeah, the nausea is pretty much gone, and I’m starting to get hungry. Do you think you could heat it up while I take a quick shower? I think I’ll feel better once I’m clean,” she says.
I’d love nothing more than to get in with her, but I know she still needs to rest, so I kiss her head and say, “Of course I will. Take your time. It’ll be ready when you get out.”
Leaving her to get cleaned up, I start the chicken and rice soup and then heat up a cup of rice in case she decides she wantsmore. I also grab a banana and make her a piece of toast. I’ve just decided it’s overkill when she walks in the kitchen wearing nothing but my hoodie. She might have panties on under there, but I prefer to think she isn’t wearing any. Her hair is still damp from her shower and hanging loose and I freeze at the sight of her.
She looks nervous for a second, but then she walks up to me and wraps her arms around me again. Her face rests against my chest while I hold her and kiss the top of her head.
“I missed you while you were sleeping,” I tell her. “I know that’s stupid, but it’s true.”
“It’s not stupid,” she murmurs against my chest before kissing it. “It’s really sweet. I missed you, too, and the only reason I’m not too pissed about it is that I’ll be moving in soon so this wasn’t a one-time thing that I missed out on.”
“You’ll be moving in immediately,” I correct, “and definitely not a one-time thing.”
She kisses me again and then turns her head, laughing when she sees the very bland feast I’ve prepared for her.
“Wow,” she says, eyeing the less-than-appetizing selection.
I run a hand through my hair and say, “I wasn’t sure what you could stomach, and you need the calories, so try to eat as much as you can, or I can make you something else if you want. I got a rotisserie chicken. Do you want a sandwich instead?”
“No, this is perfect. Thanks for making it all.” She walks over and sits at the island. While she reaches for the banana, I grab her a cold ginger ale and then put some water in a kettle for the peppermint tea I bought.
“You don’t have to do that,” she says when I get a bowl of soup for myself and take the stool next to her. “You can eat whatever you want.”
“I like soup,” I tell her, not adding that there’s no way in hell I’m going to eat a greasy, tasty meal in front of her when she can’t join in. I pop the top on my own can. “I also like ginger ale.”
