Page 64 of Bad for Business
I sit up and swing my legs to the ground, but a wave of dizziness makes my head spin.
Can I even make it to the bathroom?
I groan. I have to. I’ll just have to take it slow. I take my time standing up, not wanting to do it too fast. The moment I’m out of bed, my entire body protests. It feels like the ground is moving under my feet as I take a step toward the bathroom. I groan, wishing I were back in bed.
I don’t know how long it takes me, but I manage to get there. I don’t remember the last time my entire body hurt like this, but I head back to the bedroom, and the moment I get close to the bed, I collapse onto it. I didn’t even have the energy to pull my pajama shorts back up after using the bathroom. I left them on the ground in the bathroom. I crawl into bed in nothing but a camisole and my underwear.
Sleep immediately pulls me back under.
The growl of my stomach pulls me from a deep sleep. I blink, opening my eyes wide enough to find brilliant hues of orange and pink filtering in through my curtains.
Is it already the evening? Have I been in bed all day?
My stomach growls again, but I ignore it. My muscles ache as if I ran a marathon, and my head still pounds with an intensity that tells me I don’t think I have the energy to make it all the way to the kitchen for some food.
I’m going to have to wait.
How long do fevers even last?
I roll to my side, pulling the comforter up to my chin in an attempt to warm back up. The bed shakes from my shivers, butI can’t stop. I pull my legs to my chest and curl up in a ball, attempting to get warm.
Nothing works.
I close my eyes once again and just hope that more rest will help fight off whatever sickness I’ve caught.
The sound of a door slamming wakes me up. I open my eyes, finding my room darker than I was expecting. It’s nighttime. Moonlight illuminates the room, but only barely. It must be late, which means I somehow slept the entire day away.
It’s so quiet in the house that I can hear the heavy footsteps of someone in the hallway.
Should I be worried?
Ryker shouldn’t be back until tomorrow—unless I slept longer than I thought I did—which means there’s a good chance someone else is in the house right now.
I lift my head from the pillow, my body protesting the movement. My head falls back immediately. If someone is here that shouldn’t be, there’s nothing I can do to stop them. I’m too weak. Whatever sickness I’ve caught is still wreaking havoc on my body, making the pain too excruciating to do anything but lie in bed.
My stomach drops the moment my bedroom door is shoved open. Who’s here? What’s going to happen to me?
“Camille,” an angry voice calls out. He stands in the doorway, his face hidden in the shadows of the room, but I’d recognize that voice anywhere.
Ryker.
He’s here.
He can help me.
I attempt to lift my head from the pillow again, but it hurts too much, and my body’s too weak to do it.
“Cami…” Ryker’s voice is softer this time as he quietly shuts the door behind him and steps into the room.
The moment the moonlight from the window hits his face, my body relaxes. If I weren’t so sick, I might be upset about how relieved I am to see him, but right now, I can’t even fight it.
“Hi,” I croak. My throat feels dry, probably because I haven’t had anything to drink all day.
“I’ve been texting and calling you all day,” he admits, walking around my bed and crouching on the floor in front of me.
I manage to point feebly toward the nightstand. “My phone fell,” I begin, my words coming out hoarse. “I’ve been too sick…too tired to get it.”
He leans forward, his hand reaching out to move pieces of my hair from my face. Some of them stick to the clammy skin of my forehead. His touch is gentle as he works to move all the stray tendrils out of my face until I can get a clear view of him.
