“Yeah, just like them,” he answered, sounding amused.
“But…” I closed my eyes completely, trying to string a thought together. “No, dammit…we’re Tinkerbell and Peter Pan. I finished the book, you know. Peter chooses Wendy in the end,” I went on, making myself sad. I might have started crying again.
Neil drew his nose along my neck and gave a satisfied grunt as he breathed in my scent. There was no ulterior motive in the movement. He was just cuddling with me, holding me in his arms. I tried to relax and enjoy the little zaps of pleasure I felt all down my spine. His stubble was almost ticklish against my skin.
“Mhm…so Peter was a real asshole, then? What happened to Tinkerbell?” he whispered in my ear before nibbling on the lobe and slowly laving it with his tongue. He wouldn’t have been Neil if he didn’t try to slip in a little seduction even in a moment like that.
“I… I don’t know…” I said, trying to remember. Even with the human disaster right there next to me, I found my eyelids shutting once again as sleep overtook me.
I spent the night like that, grasping on to him as I was tossed between overwhelming heat and icy chills. My heart raced, and it got hard to separate my sleeping world from the waking one.
I was babbling all kinds of nonsense, most frequently Neil’s name. My breathing was rapid, and I groaned constantly at the ache in my head that wouldn’t go away. I tossed and turned, kicking aside the covers before plastering myself against him. I clutched his chest when I dreamed that he was leaving with Megan and was only able to relax when he spoke to me soothingly, assuring me that he was still there and wasn’t going anywhere else.
“Neil…no…no…” I babbled at one point, my body jerking but my eyes still closed. I clasped his arm in my sweaty grasp, seeking his protection.
“I’m right here. I brought you some medicine. Take it and your fever should start to go down. You’re going to feel better.” His voice sounded faraway, but I could still hear it. His face was semi-obscured in the dim half-light of the room, but I could see just enough to know that he was beside me, trying to soothe me. He dropped a delicate kiss on my forehead, then the tip of my nose, and then my lips. “You’re going to feel better, Babygirl,” he repeated against my mouth. I smiled, but it was so small he probably couldn’t make it out in the darkness. Nevertheless, he smothered it in a possessive kiss. His lips were cold or maybe mine were just so hot—either way, it was the best feeling in the world, having his mouth on mine again.
He pulled back way too soon, and I grunted out a protest. His mouth was a temptation that I couldn’t resist, not even when I was sick. I told him that and heard him chuckle.
“Still the same Babygirl.” He pushed my hair aside and gently rubbed the back of my neck, trying to relieve some of the soreness in my body, the exhaustion that had seeped into my muscles and bones. His touch apparently had magical properties because I sighed, contented, and inched closer to him. This time, I buried my nose in his chest and breathed in his masculine, sensual smell. Maybe I told him that because he answered me with, “Now’s not the time to be thinking about that, Tigress. Be good…”
Neil Miller telling me to be less horny? I laughed until I fell asleep in his arms.
When I woke up, I finally felt better.
I was still a bit sweaty, and I reached up to feel my forehead; it was still warm but no longer hot. I sat up and looked blearily around. Beside me, I could make out the impression of Neil amongst the blankets. I ran my hand over it and found it still warm, a sign that he’d only recently moved.
Was he gone?
Had he returned to Chicago with Megan?
“How are you feeling?” I jumped as the door swung open and the man himself appeared, a glass of milk in one hand and a plate in the other. His hoodie was unzipped, and he wore a white T-shirt underneath that emphasized his abdominal muscles. After so many agonizing months, I knew that the sight of him like this, looking casual and rumpled first thing in the morning, would be ingrained in my memory forever.
He was as lovely as a painting, and I’d be admiring him all my life.
I gulped. What I really wanted to do was tear off those clothes and show him that I could do more for him than all his other useless lovers put together. We used to communicate so well between the sheets, and I missed that intimacy, especially because Neil was often at his most vulnerable during those times. It was when he’d give another little piece of himself.
“A lot better, thanks. Did you stay here all night?” I adjusted the pillows behind my back and made myself comfortable against the headboard. Neil sat down beside me and checked my forehead, unconsciously licking his lips. I held perfectly still, just staring at him in a daze.
“Yes. Fortunately, your temperature’s gone down. I had to get your father to write a prescription for you. You were very sick. He and my mother are downstairs. They wanted to see you, but I asked if I could be alone with you for a little while,” he added hastily, seeming uncomfortable. It surely wasn’t easy for him, seeing his mother again after everything that had happened and knowing how she’d lied to him for years. I wanted to ask if he’d given her a chance to try to explain herself, but, knowing him, he’d just thrown up an impassable wall of pride.
Neil gave me a watchful look, and I gave him a small smile, trying to wordlessly express my gratitude to him. “I also took off your clothes because you got really overheated and sweated a lot.” He glanced quickly at my legs, and I grimaced. I blushed violently at the thought of the horrible white panties I was wearing with the dumb little pink heart in the middle. Neil set my breakfast down on the bedside table and stared deep into my eyes.
“You shouldn’t be embarrassed about me seeing you in your underwear. Your captain did too, didn’t he?” he needled. I had already been more than clear about what happened with Ivan, but Neil continued to poke at it because he thought I was lying to him. He couldn’t wrap his head around me staying faithful to him even when we were no longer together.
“He didn’t see my underwear. I already told you—nothing happened,” I said again.
Still, I felt so small and impotent beneath his glowering, scrutinizing stare. His jaw clenched and his eyes darkened. I began to wonder if Neil was incapable of coping with me having any contact at all with another boy, no matter how relatively minor.
“So he didn’t touch you?” He looked away from me so I couldn’t read his emotions on his face and handed me the glass of milk. I took it just to humor him, but I didn’t actually feel like drinking it so I simply held it in my hands.
“He didn’t touch methere, if that’s what you’re getting at,” I clarified.
“And did you touch him?” he pressed. I stared at him in horror.
“No! Oh my God!” I burst out. “No,” I said again, embarrassed. He heaved a sigh of relief, like I’d just lifted an enormous boulder off his chest. Then he gave me a lascivious smile.
“Good job, Babygirl.” He shrugged in his usual careless way and pointed at the still-full glass of milk. I shook my head and his gaze turned ominous. If I didn’t obey him, we were going to have a fight, and so, with a huff of irritation, I brought it to my lips and took a sip.
