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It’s a little risky heading over to her apartment, especially since I’m not sure if she’d want me to be there and she never responded to my messages.

Also, she lives one door down from the foundation where Sebastian probably is, so there’s a higher probability that I may run into him. Right now, though, I couldn’t care less. I know Scarlett might, though, so I make sure I’m careful.

I end up parking around the corner, and a smile curves my lips at the thought of our little inside joke.

There’s still no response from her, so I walk up the three steps and press the intercom on her brick building. I glance down the street toward the ‌foundation, but the street is quiet and all nearby street parking is filled with cars that aren’t Sebastian’s, which doesn’t necessarily mean he’s not here. He just didn’t get lucky with a parking spot, possibly.

“Hello?” a low, dazed voice says over the intercom.

“Lettie?”

“Calvin?” Her voice is a tad louder, but it is strained.

“Lettie sweetheart, can you please let me in?”

The intercom buzzes, and the door clicks as I pull the glass door open and enter a tiny lobby. I walk up a flight of stairs before I land in front of her door.

I knock twice before the door creaks open, and Lettie stands in front of me.

She’s wearing an oversized white T-shirt with a giant red stain near her boobs and also no visible pants or shorts. A messy bun sits on top of her head with strands sticking out in every direction. Her face is pale, and her body sways.

“Hey.” I grab under her arm to steady her and guide her to the couch. “I’m sorry to interrupt your rest.”

She waves her hand in front of her face, dismissing the interruption as I ease her down on the couch and pick up her feet to rest; then I grab a pillow to place it under her head. I bend down to swipe the blanket off the floor and cover her up.

I place a light kiss on her forehead, which is sticky and hot.

“Have you had any medicine yet?”

“Nah. I don’t need that.” She flails her arms, not sure what she’s trying to say.

“Do you have any?”

“No, I never get sick,” she says, her voice hoarse.

I raise an eyebrow in concern, but her eyes are already shut, and a slight snore pops out of her.

Fuck. She’s adorable.

I spy her keys on her kitchen counter next to her glass of water. I move the cup next to her just in case she needs it, and place another kiss on her forehead.

I grab her apartment key before exiting the building. I walk a block to the closest drugstore and pick up a variety of medicines, a thermometer, Gatorade, water, soup, crackers, magazines, books, and more. Okay, fine. I made two stops to get everything I need.

I haul the bags back up to her apartment and turn her key, careful not to bother her.

She’s still fast asleep on the couch, mouth wide open.

I move around her place as quietly as humanly possible, keeping myself occupied while she sleeps. I unload the dishwasher, do the dishes, sweep, and complete a few other household chores to make her life a little bit easier.

She stirs a little, and her eyes drift open. I rifle through the things I purchased earlier and unpack the thermometer.

I lean over her and swipe the device over her forehead until it beeps, telling me the temperature. One hundred and three degrees.

“Hey,” she says in a gravelly voice below me.

“Hey, Lettie. You have a fever. I’m going to get you some medicine to help, and then you can rest.”

“You’re going to get sick,” she warns me.