Page 160 of Snap Shot

“Why don't you go to his place and see what's going on?”

Yes! Why don't I?

“Yeah!” I stand from my chair abruptly, making Bea jump in her seat. “I'll go over there and confront him.” Determination surges through my veins, all logic thrown in the garbage bin like my lunch leftovers.

Who the fuck does he think he is, ignoring my messages? After making me fall in love with him. How dare he!

Bea looks like she regrets ever suggesting the idea. “I didn't mean right at this moment.”

“Too late!” I shove my laptop into my work bag and throw it over my shoulder, grabbing my wallet from the bottom drawer before locking it. “I'll see you at eight tomorrow. Unless I've turned to a life of crime after discovering this shithead with another woman.”

“Slow down, El Capo. It's probably nothing.”

I make my presence known in Radek's penthouse by jostling through the door and stomping across the floor. The temperature in the place alone has me breaking into a sweat by the time I near the living area and see the lumpy figure on the couch. A familiar soft melody plays in the background.

It's not nothing.

He lies there, his balled body swallowed entirely in a fuzzy blanket. It's cinched together under his chin like a cozy hood, only the outline of his darkened side profile poking through from where his head rests on a pillow. Countless crumpled-up tissues surround him.

The piano intro continues as Saif Ali Khan and Preity Zinta walk hand-in-hand across the big screen in the heart-wrenching scene fromKal Ho Na Ho. He sniffles out a soft sob.

“Landon?”

His head turns to me, not in shock at my sudden appearance or shame for being caught watching my favorite Bollywood movie without me. No, he simply looks miserable. My anger cools.

“It's so sad!” he wails. His handsome face warps with grief. “Aman tells Naina to marry her best friend Rohit, even though he loves her, because Aman’s dying, and they can never be together!”

His cries disarm me. I'm stripped of every hard emotion, my insides molten at his frailty.

“Uh-huh.I know this movie. We watched it together, remember?” I inch closer, posture softening with each step, and drop my bag on one end of the sofa.

“Thank God you're here.” He blows snot into another tissue with a honk, looking especially pitiful in his blanket burrito. “But not too close,” Landon's nasal voice warns, shifting his legs slightly to make space for me. “Coach benched me until I get rid of this disgusting cold.” The breath he takes through his clogged nose confirms it.

“A cold?” I sit a cushion away. “You should've told me.”

“But how?” He frowns, no jest in his question. “Howcould I have told you, Indi?”

I recognize the exaggerated whine. It's not any cold. It's aman-cold. “I dunno, your phone? I texted you. So many times.”

“You did?” His lower lips juts forward. “Aww.”

“Yeah.”

“You worried about me?”

“…Kinda.”

“I'm sorry.” Landon swipes at his reddened nose with a fresh tissue and grimaces while pinching the bridge. “I couldn't reach it.”

“Where is it? I'll get it for you.” I pat his foot twice.

He weakly points to the side table, a mere six inches from his limp hand. “There.”

I fail at holding back my laugh. “Damn, Radek. You're a big baby when you're sick.”

“Help me,” he croaks. “My nose is stuffy, my head's ready to implode, and I'm achy all over.”

Older sister instinct kicks in and I roll up my sleeves to dab the back of my hand on his clammy forehead. “Not feverish.” I get to my feet. “Be right back. I'm gonna make you some tea, okay?”

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