Page 119 of Roughing It

“Because I’m dying of embarrassment.”

I snort and tug at the cover. She digs her fingers in and holds it tight, but I pry it away. When I lean in to kiss her, she ducks out of my reach.

“Can we not? I’m better, but I really need to brush my teeth.”

“Of course.” My eyebrows rise. “But I’d kiss you anytime.”

Blakely stares at me, aghast. “That’s disgusting.”

“You’re so squeamish. I don’t care how—to use your word, not mine—disgusting you are. I still want to kiss you.”

“That’s sweet. Gross. But sweet.”

I inch my face closer to hers. “Are you saying you wouldn’t kiss me ifIspent the night vomiting?”

“No!”

“I must care about you more.”

“That’s not true! Or fair. I don’t think not wanting to kiss you right after you throw up is unreasonable. Most people would agree with me. It’s a valid, common feeling, not a measure of whether I care about you more or less.”

“It seems like the person who cares more would kiss a disgusting person.”

“Ugh! Fine! I’d kiss you even after you threw up. Happy?”

I throw my head back, laughing. “Incredibly.”

“You’re such an asshole, and I still need to brush my teeth.”

“Do you want help?”

“Brushing my teeth? Of course not,” she snaps. “I’m not a baby.”

“I didn’t say you were. I’m offering to help like I did last night.”

“Well, stop. I’m already embarrassed that I tried to feed you poison berries and threw up all afternoon and night in front of you. I can brush my teeth.”

“Then do it.”

“I will!” She sits up too fast, and I catch her in time to keep her from hitting the ground.

“Blakely. Let me help you.”

A thousand emotions dance on her face. Pride, shame, and eventually resignation. “Okay, you can help me if it means that much to you.”

Little brat. “Yes, please.”

Together, we make our way to the water closet. I give her some privacy before joining to help wash her face and brush her teeth. Then we walk arm in arm to the bed. Blakely climbs in and lets me tuck the covers around her.

“I’m ready for my kiss now.”

Without speaking, I lower my lips to hers, and she sinks into my touch. Too soon, I break away, running my fingers through her hair and staring at her. “Nurse Hudson reporting for duty.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

blakely

DAY TWENTY-FIVE

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