Page 37 of Fox
“Great idea,” Derek nods. “Have a nice day. Get the fuck out.”
“Gee, love you too, Derek,” I mutter, stepping over Atlas. “Atlas, try not to kill yourself in my absence.”
“I’ll never let go, Red,” Atlas whispers dramatically. “I’ll never let go.”
I putFox’s truck in park at the pharmacy, and hop out, looking up at the darkening skies. There’s a storm coming, perfect. On my way into the store, I glance down at my phone and see my messages are still unread.Even more perfect.When I overhear a female talking, I make a beeline for the cold medicine section and grab a basket to start stocking up.
“I heard she’s having orgies with the guys at the tattoo shop she supposedly works at.” My heart stops and my blood runs cold as the other girl speaks.
“What shop is that? We should be boycotting them in solidarity with Brody. I mean, the guy is going through so much. Did you see that video of her beating him?”
“I don’t know the name. I think one of the big creators is going to be spilling the tea later on this week in a special video.”
I blindly grab the medication and a thermometer before racing to the cash register to checkout. I’m shaking so badly that I drop my card three times, and the kind cashier has to insert it for me. “Thank you,” I whisper while grabbing my bag and leaving.
Once in the truck again, I take a deep breath and get a whiff of Fox’s smell. It relaxes me slightly, at least until my phone starts going off. I had turned my notifications back on in case Fox tried to contact me. And now they’re loud sirens inside mybrain. “Shut up,” I whisper after every chirp and ding. I need to go back to Fox’s. I need to check on him. And if I’m being honest, I just need to be near him. He’s the only person who's kept me calm, and I need it.
When I pullinto Fox’s driveway, the rain is coming down in sheets that I could barely see through while driving. I would’ve pulled over, but between the anxiety of the pharmacy debacle and Fox not responding, I had to get back here. When I left, I tried to call Fox, hoping that maybe he just didn’t hear the text, but I got nothing. It went straight to voicemail.
Grabbing the bags, I dash through the rain and run up the wooden steps leading to Fox’s wraparound porch and front door. I’m soaked in the short run and have to wring out my hair before walking in, only to be greeted by the sounds of vomiting. Making my way to the kitchen, I wince at how violent it sounds.The poor guy, I wonder how long he’s been in there.
I turn off my phone and toss the thing on the counter before pulling the items out of the bags and stocking his cabinets.
Fox’s shuffling and groans grab my attention as he peers into the kitchen. Geez, he looks worse now than this morning. “What are you doing back already?” His poor voice is a weak, raspy whisper.
“You weren’t answering your phone, and you have nothing here to help you with your cold, so I went to the pharmacy.” I walk up to him and press my hand to his forehead. He gives me a confused look as I jerk my hand away.
“Fox, you’re hot!” He tries so hard to give me a sly grin, but it doesn’t deliver. I grab the unpackaged thermometer, pop it in his mouth, and point over his shoulder. “Go get on the couch.” He gives me a whine but does as he’s told while I grab him some drinks and medicine.
The thermometer beeps as I set the medicine down, and take it out to inspect it.
“One hundred and two.” Wincing, I set it on the end table before looking at the multiple blankets. Is he insane? I start removing his blankets, much to his evident dismay, as he starts groaning and whining between his shivers.
I notice the multiple layers of shirts he has on and groan. “Jesus, Fox, are you trying to kill yourself?” I begin to pull his hoodie off as he continues to attempt to fight me weakly.
“Stop it, Torch! I’m cold!” He snaps, his teeth are chattering so hard I fear they may break. Poor guy, I feel so bad for him.
“I know, it’s the fever,” I say softly as I place a hand on his burning cheek. “Trust me and let me take care of you, okay?” He stops fighting. I’m unsure if it's because he wants to trust me or because he’s just that exhausted. Either way, I take advantage of it and finish stripping off his multiple layers of shirts and hoodies.
Once he’s left in a white undershirt, I grab his thinner blanket and wrap it around him before casually stroking the side of his face as I read over the directions on the medication. “Okay, it’s noon, so I’ll give you this now…” I mumble as I open the cold medicine and hand him two pills and a water bottle. He gives me a look of bewilderment before taking the pills and swallowing them. Grabbing a pen off his end table, I write the time on my forearm to remember when to give him another dose.
“Alright, are you hungry? I can make you some soup?” Fox shakes his head.
“No, that’s alright,” he grunts. “I’m nauseous.”
“Okay, no worries. Let’s give the medicine some time to work. Why don’t you lay down?” I go to stand and give the large man the couch to lie on, but Fox grabs my wrist with his scalding hand. I try to ignore the pounding in my heart as I look from his tattooed hand to his hazy, red-rimmed eyes.
“Don’t,” he whispers firmly, and I wrinkle my forehead in confusion. “Stay, please.”
“I wasn’t leaving.” I give him a small smile, stroking the top of his hand with mine. “I was just going to give you the couch. I can hang out on the porch or something and listen to the rain.”
“Stay.” His voice is firmer as his gaze fixes on our hands. “Please.” He grits out.
Inhaling softly, I give him a slight nod before curling up on the end of the couch. I motion with my hand for Fox to come to me, which he does without hesitation, and I guide him down to my lap. He hesitates, but after a brief coughing fit, Fox rests his head on my lap. I pull his blanket over his broad shoulders before running my fingers through his long hair. This is… weird. It’s so intimate. He and I were at each other's throats a couple of days ago, and now I’ve cried myself to sleep on his chest, and he’s sick on my lap.
“I’m sorry about the shaking,” I whisper when he shifts. It’s probably super annoying having to feel my tremors while he’s trying to rest.
“What?” He croaks out. “You’re fine. My hair was just caught. Your tremors don’t bother me.” Fuck, that’s too sweet. He doesn’t realize how directly he spoke to my biggest insecurity.
