Page 49 of Play On

I try to ignore how my face is burning with embarrassment and clear my throat.

“Erm … I put one in my mouth when I lay down for my nap because my throat hurt. I … I must have slept with my mouth open, and it fell into my hair.”

He grins at me. “It’s quite the accessory.”

I begin to laugh, but then fall into a fit of coughing. To my surprise, Noah shifts the bag he’s holding to one side, and then draws me into his chest with his free arm. “Sorry, I shouldn’t make you laugh.”

Then I feel his lips brush the top of my hair.

I might be sick, but suddenly I’m very much alive. My stomach tingles. He’s so gentle and caring, and I’m having all the emotions about the way he’s treating me right now.

“I brought you dinner,” he says.

“You don’t have to do that,” I insist.

“I know I don’t. But I wanted to.”

I nod. “Thank you. That sounds really lovely.”

“Why don’t you sit down?” Noah says, guiding me to the sofa, “and I’ll bring you some stuff to eat.”

I nod and sink back down onto the sofa, pulling the throw blanket up over me. I watch in mortification as Noah’s eyes cast downwards, to the trail of tissues all around the sofa, and I cringe.

“Would you like me to bring a bin in here?” he asks.

Dieeeeeeeeeeeeeee.

“I normally don’t do this. I felt so bad, I just threw them on the floor when I was lying on the sofa. It’s gross, I know.”

“To be fair, you didn’t know you were getting a visitor.”

“I’ll clean them up,” I say, beginning to stand up.

“Sit. You can use this takeaway bag as a bin after I empty it. Where’s the kitchen?”

“Down the hall, to your left.”

He nods. “Be back in a second.”

I sink down once again and get comfortable. Ugh, my nose is so stuffy and all I want to do is cough.

Within a few minutes, Noah returns with the empty brown bag. “Here you go. One rubbish bin for you.”

I blush and take it from him. “Thank you. What’s for dinner, by the way?”

“Well, I googled what to eat when you have a cold and tom ka gai was recommended. It’s a Thai chicken soup with chilli. It’s supposed to be great for your immune system. Might also kick through to your taste buds.”

“That sounds so good. I mean, soup sounds good, but that sounds even better. Thank you so much.”

“I got some dinner for myself, so we can eat together,” Noah says. “And before you go on about germs again, they don’t scare me, okay?”

I smile up at him, my heart brimming with affection for this man. “Okay.”

He smiles in return and heads back to the kitchen, and I take a moment to gather up my used tissues and put them into the paper bag. With that embarrassment sorted, I head to the guest bathroom down the hall to see if I look worse than I did before. Once I turn on the light and see myself, I gasp in horror.

It’s worse. Way, way, way worse!

My nose is Rudolph red on the sides. My eyes are glossy, and I’m still the colour of copy paper.

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