Page 70 of I Choose You
She clicked away on her keyboard. “I have a room with one king bed. Will that be okay?”
“Absolutely,” Claire said, just as I said, “Do you have one with two beds?”
I wanted nothing more than to have Claire wrapped around me, but she didn’t need to get whatever I clearly had. My head was swimming, and my body ached. Just staying on my feet seemed to take all of my energy. Hell, I should probably get her a room of her own so she wouldn’t get sick.
The woman clicked around some more and met my eyes with sympathy.
“I’m sorry. I just have a few rooms available, but they are all one king bed.”
“That’s fine,” Claire said. I pulled out my wallet at the same time Claire did. I shot her a look. She huffed a laugh and put her credit card away. She wrapped her arms around me, and I pulled her in close while the woman finished checking us in. She gave us our keys and sent us on our way.
The moment the door closed to our hotel room, I collapsed on the bed.
Claire gently pulled my boots off. She helped me out of my sweatshirt and moved to the waistband of my jeans.
“Hey, now,” I teased quietly. “I’m not going to be a very active participant, but I’m not saying no either.”
She laughed at me, shaking her head. She discarded my pants and helped me get settled in the bed.
“Do you need anything?”
“No. I’m just going to rest.”
I closed my eyes. I could feel Claire get into bed with me, her warm hand stroking my back.
She placed a soft kiss to my shoulder blade just before I drifted off. “Go to sleep, babe. You’ll feel better in the morning.”
23
Claire
I woke up slowly. It was hard to tell what time it was with the blackout curtains blocking any potential sunlight. I reached over to check on Reid, finding his side of the bed empty. He had slept most of the day yesterday, barely eating anything. The blizzard continued to rage around us, but that was the least of our concerns.
I heard a noise, and it took a second for it to register in my brain. Retching was coming from the bathroom.
Poor Reid. He looked like death yesterday. His face was ghostly pale, and his eyes were heavy and red. His pillow was wet from sweat.
“Hey,” I called softly as I opened the bathroom door. “Are you okay?”
“Don’t come in here,” he mumbled. He leaned his back against the bathroom wall and reached for the toilet handle.
I found my bag and pulled out a bottle of water, handing it to him.
Reid struggled to open it, eventually resting his head against the wall and handing the water back to me. He didn’t evenlook like himself, his strong, confident demeanor gone.
I uncapped the bottle and passed it back to him, kneeling beside him.
“Here, small sips. Don’t gulp it down.” He nodded slightly and followed my instructions. “Do you still feel nauseous?”
“Yeah, go back to sleep. Just leave me here.”
I almost wanted to laugh at how dramatic he sounded, but I held back. He truly didn’t feel well, and I did feel bad for him. I sat next to him and rested my head on his pec.
“You shouldn’t be in here. You don’t need to see this. I’ll get you sick next,” he mumbled sleepily, his hand roughly stroking my hair.
His hand stilled, and he tugged me off his chest, diving forward for the toilet bowl. I rubbed his back, letting him know I was here for him. Once he finished emptying his stomach, I passed him the water and stroked his head.
I called down to the front desk to see if they had any medicine on-site. They had some general ibuprofen. I asked if they could send it to our room—at least it would help with the fever—along with an additional pillow to replace the one that Reid had slept on and two more bottles of water.
