Page 32 of The Off-Limits Rule: Extended Edition

But I don’t know if I should. It’s not really my place to go nurse him back to health, and given the other night, when I tried to kiss him and he rejected me, it seems a little strange for him to be calling me. Isn’t that the kind of thing you call a girlfriend for? “Do…you have anyone who can come take care of you?” I chicken out at the last second and add, “Like your mom?”

“I’m sure she would if I asked, but she and my dad live in a retirement community about seven hours away.”

Right.“So you don’t have anyone? Like…Bailey maybe?” I press the palm of my hand to my head, feeling like such a corn nut for asking. What am I trying to get him to say here? The man is clearly miserable, and I’m trying to get him to DTR when we don’t even have one! I’ve totally lost my mind.

“Uh—no. Bailey…I don’t want to call Bailey.”

My heart soars on the back of a tiny magical hummingbird. I feel weightless. I don’t know what it means yet, but Cooper is calling me, hoping I will come take care of him. And I refuse to think so poorly of myself to believe he’s only chosen me because I’m a mom and have excellent bedside manner. There’s something here. I just don’t know what it is yet.

“Cooper…” I say, unable to keep the smile from my voice, “are you calling because you want me to come over and take care of you?”

There’s a tiny pause, and I hear him swallow. “Yeah. It’s embarrassing.”

Light bursts from my cheeks like I have just harnessed my superpowers for the first time. I feel invincible. “I’ll be right over.”

After I hang up, I carry the baby monitor out to Drew, who is watching TV in the living room, and tell him one of my friends issick and needs my help. I purposely avoid any pronoun usage because I am an evil genius, and thankfully, hearing the urgency in my voice, Drew spares me the third degree. Tomorrow is Saturday, so he tells me he doesn’t have to go into the office, and he’ll take care of breakfast for Levi if I’m late.

Guilt over lying to Drew tries to claw its way across my skin, but I refuse to let it, because I’m lying to him with noble intentions, right?

I’m standing at Cooper’s door, waiting for him to answer and feeling too excited for someone who’s about to aid a sick man. This is when I realize my crush might be getting a little out of control.

When he doesn’t answer the door after I knock, I pull out my phone and call him.

He just grunts when it connects.

“Hey, I’m here.”

“Is the door not unlocked?” he asks, sounding way worse than earlier.

I try the handle. “Nope. Sorry.”

He lets out a curse that makes me smile for some reason. “Okay. I’m coming. I’ll see you in a year when I make it to the door.”

A minute later it opens, and Cooper stands before me with alarmingly pale skin, a big comforter draped over his head and around his shoulders, no shirt, jeans sitting low and showing off the waistband of his black boxer briefs.

“Lucy.” He says my name like a plea, and it tears me right in half.

“Oh, Cooper. You don’t look good.”

He gives me the most pitiful smile I’ve ever seen. “That’s ’cause I’m dying, remember?” Apparently it’s true what they say,and men are big babies when they’re sick. I once had to go to work with a fever of a hundred and one and mastitis, but a little stomach trouble has completely taken out this six-foot man. It’s sort of adorable, and I loveit.

Cooper looks down at me through half-lidded eyes. The flirtatious spark and cool-guy demeanor that are usually present with him are nowhere to be found, and instead he looks a little fragile. Unable to stop myself, I step forward and rest my hand against his cheek and then his forehead.

“You don’t have a fever, so that’s good.”

His eyes shut as my hand slides from his forehead down his temple. He turns his face toward it and sort of presses his cheek against my palm again. Did he just nuzzle me? Like a little love nuzzle? It’s a tiny gesture, but it makes my stomach jump into my throat. His face rests lightly against my hand before he groans, pulling away. “Come in. I have to go finish dying.”

I watch Cooper and his blanket cape disappear down a hallway, and then I turn my eyes to the empty house. I remember everything I have tucked underneath my arm and decide to start the task of making this place more comfortable while trying to ignore the horrific sounds coming from down the hall.

First, I make my way into Cooper’s kitchen, admire the double oven and wonder if he ever uses it, and then fill up a glass with ice and ginger ale. I didn’t know if he had any straws, so I bought a pack because it’s a fact that no one wants to drink out of a wide-rimmed glass when they’ve been puking.

Next, I go into the living room and unpack the hamper. Cooper’s couch gets a comfy new blanket, and his mantel gets a soft vanilla-scented candle and a cute faux succulent that adds a tiny bit of color to the room. Don’t get me wrong, the place still looks pathetic but at least slightly more like someone lives here.

Once I’m finished, I’m not sure what to do. Should I sit down and wait for him? Go check on him and make sure he hasn’t passed out in the bathroom? A moment ago, in the doorway, things felt different between us. A little less friend-like, a little moresomething…but then I remember my rejected kiss and feel even more confused.

Still…he called me over here because he was desperate, right? I should go check on him.

Tiptoeing my way down the hall, I make it to his bedroom and eye his rumpled king-sized bed that makes my stomach flutter. The room smells like him, and a strong part of me wants to dive onto his mattress and make blanket angels in the covers, absorbing all of his scent so I can take it home withme.

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