Page 74 of Mafia Shade's Reluctant Bride
I sniffled, wobbling slightly as I walked to the mirror. My reflection was a disaster. My skin was pale, my nose was red, my hair was a mess, and my eyes had that glassy, fevered look. I looked like an epic fail after an iconic walk of shame. I felt worse.
Lovely. Just the image of health and grace. A knock sounded at the door, and I groaned.
“Maria? You up?”
Lorenzo. Just the person responsible for all my misery. To be fair, he didn’t want to walk home. I was the one who had talked him into it. I wanted to ignore him. But I also didn’t.
For a second, I considered forcing my voice into something remotely normal, but when I opened my mouth to respond, what came out was a hoarse, pathetic croak.
Another knock, firmer this time. “Maria?” I sighed and shuffled over to open the door.
The moment he saw me, his brows shot up. “Dio, you look terrible. What’s going on?”
I wished I could roll my eyes because he was back to treating me as he used to when he was just my brother’s best friend.
“Well, good morning to you, too,” I rasped, glaring up at him.
He didn’t even bother with a snarky comeback. His gaze swept over me, assessing me, and the next thing I knew, he was pressing the back of his hand against my forehead. I didn’t know what burned me more, the fever or the sensation I felt when his hands rested on my face, and I could smell the rich smell of his cologne because he was that close to me.
“Lorenzo, I’m fine.” I tried to lie through my teeth, but my croaked voice and sweaty forehead were a dead giveaway. “Let me grab my clothes so we can go home,”
“You’re burning up.” His hand dropped, and his eyes narrowed. “You’re not going anywhere like this.”
“I can make it home.” My legs were shaky, trying to signal me that I knew I couldn’t, but I didn’t mind crawling out of there if it would prevent me from staying one more day with Lorenzo and everything I was trying to bury.
“No, you can’t.” His tone was firm but soft, and I could see the genuine concern in his eyes.
“I have to get back to Matteo.” I needed to snuggle with my little bundle of joy.
“At this rate, Matteo might be the one taking care of you.” His hands rested on his hips as he stared me down, daring me to argue.
I wanted to. I really did. But my body betrayed me with another wave of exhaustion, and I slumped against the chair, leaning on it, sighing. “Fine. But if I die here, I’m haunting you.”
“Haunting me,” he scoffed, “You will be such a cute ghost.”
I opened my mouth to give him a comeback, but a sudden cough racked through me, doubling me over. Lorenzo sighed, stepping past me into the room as if I had given him permission. He grabbed the room phone.
“What are you doing?” I croaked.
“Calling the front desk to extend our stay.” He was not asking, already dialing the number as I protested.
I scowled. “You can’t just—” I paused mid-sentence, realizing whatever I was saying was useless.
“Done.” He set the phone down. “We’re not leaving until you feel better, and I will make sure of that, so quit being stubborn,”
I folded my arms, or at least tried to. They felt like lead. “I don’t need a babysitter.”
“No, you need rest. And medication. And probably tea. Do you even drink tea?”
I blinked. “What?”
“Tea. I feel like you’re more of a coffee person, which, by the way, is the worst thing for a sore throat.”
“I hate that you know that.” I rolled my eyes. How could I stay this mad at him when he knows the most minute details about my life, the insignificant details?
“I know a lot of things about you, Maria.”
That shouldn’t have made my heart stutter. But it did. And I hated that, too.
