Page 166 of Vicious Temptation

She made sure I ate and took more cold and flu medicine, hovering over me until I swallowed every last pill. I happily went along with it all because it meant I could keep her here a little longer, listening to her ramble about whatever happened to cross her mind.

There were plenty of them, and I laugh to myself as I think about how easily she filled the last hour with stories, random observations, and questions that somehow led to entirely different conversations.

For a few hours, I got to pretend this was normal. I got to pretend she was mine and there wasn’t a time bomb hanging over our heads waiting to destroy everything.

“I have to head out,” she says sometime around noon. “Promise me you’ll have dinner delivered and not starve yourself while running a fever.”

“I promise.”

Remi rises onto her toes and presses the back of her hand against my neck. “Your fever is just as stubborn as you are,” she murmurs.

The concern in her voice does dangerous things to my heart.

“Must have been that pond water,” she adds.

I snort. “So what you’re saying is that this is your fault because you’re the one who pushed me in.”

Remi shrugs. “Either way, I paid my dues, Braga. I took care of you and even bathed you, so that has to count for something.”

My gaze drifts over her face and the smile that’s slowly becoming my favorite thing in the world. “It counts for everything.”

Her grin falters for the briefest second. If I say another word, I might tell her exactly how much it means, and if she stays any longer, I might forget all the reasons she can’t.

“See you,” she whispers as she squeezes my arm.

When she turns to leave, I catch her wrist.

“Remi, I know you keep saying we aren’t friends, but⁠—”

“We are.”

I blink. “What?”

She rolls her eyes as though the answer should be obvious. “Do you think I’d go out of my way to take care of just anyone?”

I can’t stop myself from smiling. “No.”

“Exactly.” She points at me. “And I brought you my last lollipop.”

“You ate it.”

She laughs. “It’s the thought that counts.”

Before I can think better of it, I grab the front of her shirt and gently tug her toward me. She stumbles forward with a surprised laugh, and a second later, my arms are around her.

I rest my chin on her head and close my eyes. The scent of her shampoo fills my lungs, and her warmth presses against mine. Everything about this feels reckless, selfish, and so fucking unfair, yet it also feels right.

Remi’s hands settle against my back. “You know,” she says softly, “for someone who has the flu, you’re awfully clingy. Trying to share your germs?”

A laugh rumbles through my chest. “Give me a break. I almost died.”

“You had a fever.”

“It was very serious.”

She snorts, and I tighten my arms around her for another second before forcing myself to let go. Stepping back, she looks up at me. “Get some rest, Braga.”

“I will.”