Page 27 of Don't Bite the Boy Next Door
“We better get you to hospital.”
“Not necessary,” he shakes his head, making to rise.
I move quickly to support him as he wobbles to his knees, taking in a sharp breath as his cheek brushes mine. Leaning heavily on me, he allows me to hold him.
As he rises to his feet, we stand in an awkward embrace, while he steadies himself. My arms tighten around him almost of their own accord, and he is momentarily still as he looks down into my raised face.
“You can let me go now, Tess,” he says gently, as I stare at him, my breathing hitching at the thrill of standing so close to someone I have desired for so long.
“Oh, ugh, I’m so sorry,” I murmur, quickly stepping back from him, only to immediately jump back to catch him as he crumples to one side.
“Guess I spoke too soon,” he groans, as I sense his stomach tensing ready to vomit again.
“Guess so,” I smile gently, supporting him while he retches. “Now hop into the truck please, no more arguments, you’re going to hospital.”
“OK,” he sighs, as I lead him to the truck and, hoping he won’t remember, lift him in.
We don’t talk on the short drive into the hospital, but we don’t need to. I am happy as a clam that I can be so close to him and not want to kill him, and he is sick as a dog from ingesting a stomach and lung-full of dirty well water.
As I drive, my eyes darting quickly from the road and back to him, regularly, he reaches over and stops my hand as I attempt to turn the heater up, placing his own upon it gently.
“Thank you, Tess. It seems like I am going to be in your debt for the rest of my life.”
“Yourlonglife,” I smile back at him. Only he doesn’t realise the depth of relief I have behind those words.
