Page 42 of The Odds of Happily Ever After
Sorry Kai, I won’t be able to make it later
Kai
No worries! I got you covered
Luna
THANK YOU!! I’ll take over your shift on Monday if that works for you
Kai
Sure. Take care there, ok?
Gabe stirred forthe first time in almost four hours, pulling my attention from my econ readings. He groaned, and I got up from the armchair to check on him. His eyes were squeezed shut like he was in pain as he turned his head in my direction. Carefully, I placed my palm on his forehead, keeping the touch light so I wouldn’t startle him. His skin felt clammy, but at least he wasn’t as warm as he’d been earlier.
After dampening a washcloth, I knelt beside the sofa to wiped Gabe’s forehead. His eyelids blinked open, and my hand stopped, heart clenching at the sight of his blue-gray eyes. They were bleary and unfocused, lacking their usual keenness.
“Luna,” he rasped, spurring me into action.
I grabbed the glass I’d left on his coffee table and tilted it to his lips. He kept his gaze on me as he drank, and it took my full concentration to hold the glass steady. In all my crazy imaginings, I’d never pictured this—taking care of him while he was sick. Him trusting me enough to let me care for him, though he might argue he’d had no choice. It felt . . .intimate, being with him like this.
He tipped his head away from the glass, so I put it back on the table and used the washcloth to dab the water that had trickled onto his chin. My eyes lingered on the corner of his mouth and the urge to wipe it with my thumb hit me out of nowhere.
Rearing back, I dropped the cloth on Gabe’s chest.
Oh my God, pull yourself together, Luna. The man has a fever, and here you are, checking him out.
“I thought I imagined you here,” Gabe murmured, oblivious to my inappropriate thoughts. His eyes traced my face, and I swore my temperature shot up like I had a fever too.
“Disappointed?” I joked, as though my nerves weren’t firing all at once from his nearness.
The left corner of his mouth lifted the slightest bit. “No.”
My chest seemed to burst wide open at that single word. I knew it was simply human nature to want company when you were sick, but giddiness overtook my rational side anyway. “Are you feeling better?”
“Somewhat.”
“I’m glad you woke up. You need to take your medicine again, and you should eat. I made chicken noodle soup if you’re up for it. It’s the canned type, but it’s pretty good and there’s also bananas and crackers—those should be okay for your stomach,” I babbled.
His forehead creased. “Where did you get them? I don’t have any of those things.”
“I brought them,” I said. “Hope you don’t mind that I used your stove for the soup.”
“You didn’t have to.”
“Well, I didn’t have time to cook it at home cause I was rushing to check on you.”
“No, I meant you didn’t have to do all that.”
I shrugged. “It’s what friends do.” Heat swept up my neck. “Sisters of friends, I mean.” Standing, I brought the glass to the kitchen. “So, what do you want to eat?”
“Soup sounds good.” From the corner of my eye, I caught him lurching up. “Fuck. What time is it?”
I glanced at my watch. “Almost six.”
“I have a meeting. I was supposed to have one at three?—”
“Relax. I texted Felix and Olive,” I said, turning the stove on. “They’re expecting you to contact them tomorrow to reschedule.”
