“Technically, I’m no longer your boyfriend. And I did try to stop you.”
“Why didn’t I let you?” he groans.
“Because you were the life of the party. Talking about making crackers.”
“Oh, God, really? Ugh. Remind me never to drink that much again.”
I unscrew the cap of the bottle I’m holding and hand it over to him. “Drink this. It’ll make you feel better.”
He shakes his head, closing his mouth. “I don’t know if I’m going to be able to stomach that.”
“I got the blandest flavor I could. Electrolytes help everyone.”
“I usually make myself soup and then curl up on the couch and watch movies all day.”
“Well, then,”—I grab a washcloth from the cabinet and wet it down—“if you can pull yourself together, I’ll order us some soup and we can watch some Christmas movies on the couch together.”
“Is this part of your boyfriendly duties?” he asks, eyes closing as I press the cool cloth to his forehead.
“Nope. Boyfriendly duties ended at midnight.”
“Are you a pumpkin?”
I laugh, tossing the damp rag into the sink.
“Not a pumpkin, but I don’t want to leave you hanging out to dry on your own. Besides, I don’t have anything going on today.”
“That’s a lie,” Ollie says, pushing himself to stand.
“What do you mean it’s a lie?”
“I know for a fact that you’re supposed to be at Naughty Pine.”
“Naughty Pine can get by without me for a few hours. Perks of owning the place.”
“Are you sure?” Ollie asks.
“Yes, I’m sure.” I nod and steer him out toward the living room. “Trust me, if I really needed to be there, I’d be there.”
“Have I ever told you what a great friend you are?” Ollie gives me a thankful look as I help him onto the couch and cover him in a blanket.
“Not in the last week.” I smile at him.
“You’re a really good friend.”
“You know I’d do anything for you.”
Ollie wraps himself like a burrito in the blanket and starts flipping through the streaming services on his TV while I order us some soup.
This isn’t how I planned on spending my Saturday, but it’s a pretty good interruption in my usually busy schedule. I order Ollie soup and bread—the blandest I can find to not upset his stomach—and get myself a few more things. I know the bagel isn’t going to cut it today.
When I take the spot next to him, Ollie scoots over and burrows in close to me.
“This will make me feel better,” he sighs, sinking into me.
“Then I won’t go anywhere.”
Huh. This is nice.
