Page 44 of A Box of Wishes
“If you say so.” Ryan shivered and wrapped his arms around his middle.
“Would you like a cup of lemon and ginger tea now, or do you think you can manage a shower first?”
“I want to die, not shower.”
“No doubt. But you’ll feel better after a shower, trust me. Then you can dose yourself up with the good drugs and go back to sleep.”
“Can I smell something spicy? My nose is crap.”
“I’ve made hot and sour soup. Ginger, garlic, chilli, chicken, and lots of coriander. You need food in your stomach or all that cold medicine will make you sick.”
“Soul food.” Ryan found a smile. “You’re good at looking after people.”
“I’ve done my share.” He frowned as another shiver ran through Ryan. “Your teeth are chattering. Go shower.”
“You could come and scrub my back.”
“You’re a long way from death, if you can think of that.” He leaned over and planted a kiss on Ryan’s cheek. “Off with you.”
He had bowls of steaming soup set out on the dining table when Ryan came back. “Mind if I eat with you?”
“To prove you didn’t poison it?”
“So that’s why you share my tea every morning?” To Ben’s relief, Ryan was hungry. He finished his bowl of soup and even picked at the bunch of grapes Ben had placed in the centre of the table. “I’ve made a pot of lemon and ginger tea,” he said. “Do you want a cup?”
Ryan made a face. “I don’t like honey.”
“I know. That’s why I made it with sugar.”
Ryan reached for the cup. “I feel like I could sleep some more.”
“Good idea.” Ben set the pills beside Ryan’s mug. “You’re still feverish. Once the fever breaks, you’ll feel much better.”
“What if it doesn’t?”
“Then you’ve got something nastier than a cold. But let’s not worry about that until we need to. Come on, bed.” He led the way, turning the quilt and fluffing the pillows until Ryan came in, cradling his mug of hot tea.
“I feel like a cliché.” He took a sip before he pinned Ben with a gaze. “And before I forget… I don’t want you to think that I don’t want to go out with you. I do. It’s just—”
“You promised help to people. I get it,” Ben said. “Don’t stress about us for now. That’s probably what made you sick. The stress, I mean. It’s always easier to catch a bug when you’re stressed.”
“I don’t want to push you away.”
“Then don’t. Talk to me instead. Or better yet, show me that I’m not an afterthought on your long list of chores.”
Ryan stiffened. “We only met four weeks ago. And a lot of my plans were made—”
“Long before then, I know. I’m not saying you should ditch your friends and family for me. I understand that you have commitments, and that Christmas is a busy time. Just… put us first every now and then?”
Ryan took his hand and twined their fingers. “I’ll do that. I’ll show you that I can put us first. Because… Because I do want to see more of you. And I’d love to go on a date.”
“Good. That’s good. Focus on getting better and then we’ll find time for a date.” Relief made him dizzy. “It’s not as if my schedule is the easiest to handle. Now get into bed and snooze some more.”
“You don’t have to sit and watch me sleep.”
“Wasn’t going to. I’m heading home to make sure that Morris doesn’t starve. I’ll be back later.” He produced a thermos flask of hot lemon and ginger and set it on the bedside table. “Drink more tea when you wake up. It will help.”
Ryan snuggled into the bed. “You make an excellent nurse. Even without the uniform.”
