Page 30 of New Neighbor

Benji walked over and felt Mac’s forehead. He was burning up. “You take anything?”

Mac pulled a foil pack of cold medicine from his pocket and showed it to Benji. “Some cold medicine I got at CVS.”

Benji frowned. Mac needed something more. He went back to the kitchen, washed his hands, and then got the soup together. Once he’d brought the bowl, a bottle of water, and laid them both on the coffee table, he grabbed his keys.

“Go ahead and eat. I’m going to go grab some stuff at the store.”

“Don’t go on my account,” Mac said.

“No, I just need a few things,” Benji fibbed. He paused at the door, making sure Mac was eating. Once he saw the first bite, he left.

When he came back an hour later, arms laden with groceries and flu medicine, he saw Mac passed out on the couch. He smiled and quickly put the groceries away. Once done, he grabbed the flu meds and walked over to Mac.

He sat on the edge of the couch and looked down at his sleeping bear. A smile crossed his lips. Mac was too big for his couch. He brushed a hand over Mac’s forehead, still worried about the fever. Benji roused Mac, though he didn’t want to, just to get the meds into him.

Mac’s golden gaze met his, looking surprised and exhausted.

“I got you some proper flu medicine,” Benji said, offering two pills.

“I told you that you didn’t need to go out for me.”

“I needed a few things. I grabbed these along the way,” he answered.

Mac took the pills and washed them down with the water. He then rested his head back against the throw pillow. “Thank you.” He stretched a little. “I really should leave before I get you sick.”

“Iron constitution, remember?”

Mac smiled slightly and stretched again.

“This couch is too small for you. Go crawl into my bed.”

Mac frowned. “I can’t kick you out of your own bed.”

“Who said you were kicking me out?” Benji asked, lifting a brow.

Mac chuckled. “Yes, sir.”

He rose and shuffled into the bedroom. Benji went about making some of his grandmother’s soup—the one she always made for him when he was sick. Mac slept the afternoon away, only awakening when Benji came in with the next dose of flu meds.

Later that evening, he brought Mac a bowl of steaming soup in bed.

“That smells amazing,” Mac said. “And I can barely smell anything.”

“My grandmother’s soup is a cure-all.”

Mac’s hand paused, the first spoonful in it. “You made this for me?”

“From scratch. It won’t be as good as hers, of course, but it might be good enough to work its magic.”

Mac paused, watching him a moment, before finally taking a spoonful. “Mmmmmmm. Magic or no… it tastes really good.”

Benji reached for Mac’s forehead, and the man felt a little cooler. Only a little.

He sat watching Mac eat for a few bites. “I hope you don’t mind me dragging you over here and telling you what to do.”

“Mind? Why would I mind?”

“Well, I did force you over here.”

---