“I don’t feel good.”
“You need to go back to sleep.”
“Aren’t you going to throw me out?”
“Later.”
When I laid him back in the bed, he sighed happily. “Smells like you in here,” he said softly. “It’s so cold.”
Sighing, I tugged the shirt over my head and slipped between the covers.
He didn’t even hesitate, just wiggled until he was tucked beneath my arm, body pressing against my side. “That’s so much better.” He exhaled.
“Body heat.” No cuddling here. All science.
His hand rested over my heart, cheek pillowed on mychest. A force of air blew across my torso when he coughed. Gusting those germs all over me. It was practically a death threat.
“Gonna have to do better than that,” I muttered.
As if some little pipgeek could take me out with a cough.He has no idea who he’s messing with.
Another chill racked his body, and I tugged up the blankets, covering us both. “Hurry up and get better. I want answers,” I said, sliding my hand up and down his back. You know, to generate heat. All his quaking made me feel like a human milkshake.
“I don’t know your name,” he murmured.
Still going with that, was he? You’d think, after I carried him off the street and fought off his fever, he’d have a little more consideration.
“You called me Hiro.” I reminded him, suspicious all over again.
I thought he’d fallen asleep, but long minutes later, his drowsy voice filled the room. “Because that’s what you are,” he whispered, “my hero.”
The breath left my body. I stared up at the onyx ceiling, feeling as though it had no beginning or end. I don’t know how long I lay there ruminating on the little info drop. Long enough for the body curled around mine to stop trembling and his breathing to even out.
Did he just… call me his hero?
Well, fuck.
CHAPTER
SEVEN
Rett
A sense of déjà vu washed over me the second I opened my eyes.
I really wasn’t one for experiencing things twice. I mean, most everything was terrible the first time, so why would I want a repeat?
‘Course, it never seemed to matter what I wanted. The universe had its own plans.
But the view was just the same as last time: white walls and a dark-wood nightstand with a lamp glowing on top. The bedding was whiter than snow, and I paused to inhale, coughing a little with the exhale and wincing at the soreness of my throat, ignoring both while searching…There.
The now-familiar acrid odor of charred paper and chemicals filled my senses. It was not a good scent, yet here I was, seeking it out.
I coughed again, noticing it was easier to detect than before, which was odd because the scent on my hoodie was fading. Awareness crashed over me with the force of a tsunami. I sat up, disregarding theprotest in my limbs and the wooziness in my head. Thoughts swimming, I recalled everything: the cardboard box, being pulled out of it, a cool cloth on my sweat-slicked skin, pills, water, the beeping of a thermometer.
Safety. Warmth. Skin on skin.
Him.
