Page 44 of Dare
“Justa headache and a bit of a sore throat. It’s no big deal. I’ll call you when Iwake up.”
Heagrees, but he doesn’t sound happy about it. I don’t have time to worry aboutit, though, because my eyes slam shut the second my head hits the pillow.
Poundingon my door wakes me hours later. Who the hell? Someone must have the wrongroom. “Ayda! Open up. It’s me. That bitch at the desk wouldn’t give me a key.”
Dare!The room spins a bit when I get to my feet too quickly. I throw open the doorand there he stands, a concerned expression on his face. “What are you doinghere?”
“Didyou really think I was going to leave you alone, sick, on Christmas Eve?”
Ithrow my arms around him. “You crazy man! I’m fine, but I’m happy you’re here.”
Hischeek presses to mine. “You’re not fine. You’re burning up. Let’s get you inbed.”
“That’swhat I’m talking about.”
Laughing,he shakes his head and leads me back to bed. “You need to rest. I brought yousome medicine.”
Imentioned a headache and sore throat and he drives three hours to bring meibuprofen. He’s too good to be true. “The twenty-four hour pharmacy was theonly place open.” He sits a bag on the bed and proceeds to unpack a few drinks,some snacks, and cold medicine. After handing me a couple of pills, he grabs adamp cloth from the bathroom and reclines beside me, placing the cool cloth onmy forehead.
“You’regoing to miss the dinner at Landon’s.”
Hisstrong arm wraps around me, and I lay my cheek against his cool chest. “I’mright where I’m supposed to be.” I’m right where I want to be. “How did thingsgo with your mom?”
“Asexpected.” I can’t keep the resignation out of my voice. I didn’t expectanything to have changed, so I’m not sure why I still feel disappointed. It’snot like I expected her to be thrilled to see me, but she is the one whoinsisted I needed to come visit for Christmas. “I don’t know why she wanted meto come,” I confess.
“She’syour mom. Whatever issues you two have, I’m sure she misses you.”
There’sno point in arguing. He doesn’t know her. Hopefully, he never will. “I’m gladyou’re here.”
Hekisses my head as I snuggle into him, and the night time cold medicine drags myeyes shut. “Good night, Dare.”
“GoodNight, Ayda.”
* * * *
Martha’sCountry Cookin’ is a family owned restaurant that has been open since before Iwas born. Every Thanksgiving and Christmas they offer a huge buffet and itseems like half the town has decided to eat here instead of cooking.
Darepulls my chair out, and I take a seat, gnawing on my lip. I really didn’t wanthim to come, but I couldn’t just leave him at the hotel after he cancelled hisplans and came all this way for me. Mom is sure to do something to embarrassme, and god help us if she brings Gil. “Relax, everything will be fine. We’llhave dinner, then head back to Indy,” he assures me.
“Justeat fast,” I mumble, and he laughs. I feel much better today, the fever is goneand my throat has gone from sore to scratchy, but I’m still a bit worn down. Ijust want to get this over with.
Momwalks in, stopping to chat with a few people on her way to our table, and Ibreathe a sigh of relief that Gil isn’t with her. “I hope you weren’t waitinglong,” she says, then turns to me. “Ayda, you didn’t tell me you were bringinga friend.”
“Derek,”Dare says before I can reply. He gets to his feet and extends his hand. “Ayda’sboyfriend. It’s nice to meet you.”
Hell,she could at least try not to look so shocked. I mean, I get it. Dare lookslike he walked off of a fitness magazine and half my face looks like crinkledpaper, but she could pretend. “Nice to meet you too.”
Notmuch else is said as we fill our plates and settle in to eat. The food is goodat least, and I start to relax a little. Maybe we will get through dinnerwithout any drama.
Momdominates the conversation with gossip about my old friends and neighbors. AndGil, of course. Gil likes this. Gil doesn’t like that. Gil thinks politics is awaste of time. Blah Blah Blah.
Daregives me a little half grin and winks. “How are you feeling, darlin’?” He turnsto Mom. “She was sick last night.”
Momlooks up. “Oh? Gil was sick last week. Stomach flu.”
Myshoulders lift in a shrug when Dare looks at me. It’s pointless. “I’m feelingbetter. I think I’m going to grab a bowl of that banana pudding.”
“Letme get it. I’ve been eyeing the chocolate cake,” he volunteers, dropping a kisson my head before starting away. I love how he does that, kisses my head orforehead whenever he leaves.
