Page 17 of Fragile Touch (Fragile 1)
It wasn’t snooping, he told himself. He was just curious, and considering her apparent ill health and current incapacitation, looking around for what may have caused it was an act of kindness.
And here he was now, in the same situation. Back in college, his group always gave him a hard time about being “whipped” whenever he was dating a girl, and even with those he wasn’t really dating. He took care of them, good care of them—in more ways than one, of course—but they always broke up for the same reason. Because too many other girls threw themselves at him and he didn’t exactly go out of his way to keep that from happening.
As he carried Lillian to her room, he tried to reason with himself after so many years. I never cheated on anyone I dated, he thought. He had told himself this what seemed like a million times before, but some slight pang of guilt still pricked his chest. I know I look good. There’s nothing wrong with taking pride in your appearance. And I know I’m the type that a lot of girls like. But I can’t help when drunk girls get horny and bold.
Still, he couldn’t figure out what was the main issue in those past relationships, and the ones that weren’t official, why they stopped cold turkey. If he never cheated, what reason did they have to leave? It didn’t make sense to his logic.
I mean, I’m not one to turn down getting physical with a sexy girl...but I never sunk so low that I went behind someone’s back.
He looked down at Lillian, whose eyes were closed peacefully. Her face was paler than he remembered but, then again, he had never seen her this close up. Something about her didn’t look entirely well, or feel entirely well for that matter. She wasn’t tall by any means, but even for her height she was a lot lighter than he had expected.
It was true, something excited him when he walked over to her place and saw her there in a tank top. He noticed the different wardrobe statement before he noticed she was crumpled on the ground, and before he heard her crying and saw her shaking. When he got closer he saw her sweater draped over the railing, and it was only then that he found it odd she was wearing so little in the chilly evening air.
Maybe I get a little too caught up in myself sometimes.
The door to her bedroom was ajar, and he stuck his foot in to ease it open. The room was very simple. She had a closet, a bookshelf, and a chair that was piled with the books that couldn’t fit on the shelf. He made a mental note to look at the books later. The titles would probably tell him a little more about her.
“I’ve had to save you twice,” he muttered, his eyes locked on her as he lay her down. “What did you do before me?”
“I didn’t mean for this to happen,” came the soft slur from between her dry lips. Cayden couldn’t tell if she was responding to him or still talking to that Amelia person from back on the porch.
“Who takes care of you?” he asked, unfolding a puffy comforter at the foot of the bed and spreading it over her.
“I’m too hot,” she protested, her eyes still closed. She weakly pushed the corner of the blanket off her chest and flopped her arm back down, spent.
She’s really out of it, he thought. “That’s not what I asked.”
“You always ask so many things.” She sounded like she was about to cry.
“I’m curious.” A small smile crossed his face.
Lillian’s eyes opened to tiny slits and she examined him for a few seconds. “Why did you come over?”
He chuckled deep in his throat and looked back at her. “I was coming to complain about you being too quiet. It’s annoying.”
She grunted. “Very funny.” An expression of angst transformed her face and she clutched her chest. “I’m so hot, I’m so hot...”
Shit, what am I supposed to do? He told her he would be right back, not that she would be going anywhere. In the bathroom he found a washcloth and soaked it with cold water from the sink. That ought to help.
When he was back by her side, he heard her breathing and saw her chest rising and falling rapidly. “Here, take this.” He lay the washcloth on her forehead and she reached up with fumbling fingers to unfold it and cover her face completely.
“Thank you.” He managed to make out her voice from under the cloth.
“Don’t mention it.” There were so many more things he wanted to ask, but obviously that wasn’t going to happen while her face was hidden. He stood up and walked to the bookshelf, tilting his head and reading every title starting from the very top shelf.
He was halfway through when he heard her moan. Turning around quickly, he saw her lying with her arms straight by her side, washcloth still over her face.
“Are you okay?” When she gave no reply, he removed the cloth and folded it back to cover her forehead.
“I’m going to get up...” she paused. He could see that talking wasn’t so easy for her right now. “...I’m going to go get some water. You don’
t have to be here.”
“No way am I letting you out of this bed in your state,” he tapped her shoulder. “I’ll get you water. Do you want ice?”
She grunted; he was unclear whether it was a yes or a no grunt. He decided to put a few cubes in anyway.
In the kitchen, he passed the basket on the counter that contained all her medicine. Lifting a few of the bottles to take another look, he realized that he had no idea what he was looking for. None of the prescriptions looked familiar to him, but he definitely wasn’t an expert. And why were there so many vitamins? Last time the big bottle of fiber supplement powder wasn’t there. Maybe he had just missed it.
