Broken_ Broken #1 - A. E. Murphy Page 0,114

ask and pull the blanket down his back.

“Why? Do you want me to be?” He attempts to smile but it looks more like a grimace.

“Shut up.” I place two thick and clean towels onto the bed beside him and he watches me through a small gap between his lids. He doesn’t look impressed, only irritated. I really don’t care. “Lie on here, on your back.”

“Why?”

“Now, or I’ll move you and you look heavy. Not a good idea for me.”

His sluggish limbs shuffle him onto the towel and I’m glad to see he’s doing as he’s told. His eyes hold mine as I grab a folded damp flannel and place it on his forehead, being careful to not touch his skin with my hands. “How are you feeling?”

“Worse than I look.” He cringes as I lay another damp flannel over his neck. “Why are you doing this?”

“You don’t look that bad.” I ignore his question and stare at his skin as it instantly tightens, tiny goose bumps forming along the surface.

“Are you done yet?”

My head swings back and forth. Nope. I’ll never be done. Not until his fever has gone and I’m satisfied that his heart is going to continue beating. “Go to sleep.”

“Leave my room and I will.”

Ignorance is bliss. Well… it is at this point.

“I told you to leave.”

“No.”

His brow quirks, making it vanish under the flannel. “No? This is my room.”

“Go to sleep, Nathan,” I whisper and remove the flannels from him after ten more minutes.

He rolls off the towels and pulls the blanket back up and over his head. My entire body is shaking. My gut is screaming at me. Maybe I should take him to the hospital, just in case.

“You’re staring.” He lies flat on his back. “It’s distracting.”

Eye roll. “You’re poorly; just shut your eyes.” Maybe I should keep him awake. That would be selfish though.

“Stop staring.”

I refuse, because I’m making sure he’s still breathing.

“Sorry,” I mutter and fluff up the pillows where the towels were moments before. I lean back against them, cringing at the heat coming from him. He’s ill, that’s for sure. “Maybe I should call a doctor?”

He doesn’t respond. Why isn’t he responding?

Okay, I can hear him breathing. He’s sleeping, that’s all.

My twisted mind is relieved when he starts shivering after twenty minutes or so. It’s a sign he’s okay. Sick as a dog but still alive. That’s good.

I should leave. Why am I sat here? I just can’t bring myself to leave.

Just another half an hour. I’m overreacting, he’ll be fine.

His short breath becomes slow and steady after forty minutes. I relax minutely until I hear him take a shuddering one and suddenly I’m tense again. What is wrong with me? He’s fine!

But just in case he isn’t, I should check his pulse.

My two fingers almost sizzle against his skin, that’s how warm he is. The feel of his artery pumping against my fingers does little to soothe my inner turmoil.

I should call a doctor.

I’ll do it in the morning.

But what if he’s not here in the morning? I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.

I stare at his peaceful face in the dark and gently move his hair from his brow. His hair is amazingly soft, not like Caleb’s. His was great but it resembled the feel of knotted silk. With Nathan’s my fingers just slide straight through. He conditions.

I move my hand down to his chest and savour the feel of his heartbeat. I want to hear it. Is that weird? Probably.

He’s too out of it to care.

Shuffling down the bed, I move my hair to my opposite shoulder and place my cheek on his chest. His chest is solid yet soft, with only a light dusting of hair. It’s a nice chest. He doesn’t move and his breathing remains steady so I know I haven’t disturbed him.

Thump, thump, thump, thump.

Blowing out a soft sigh of grief and relief, I curl my legs and rest my arm across his abdomen, my hand fisting near my mouth.

I don’t want to move from this spot. I will in a second.

Just a minute or two.

Chapter Twenty

So warm. Too warm.

Why’s my back damp?

Hot breath tickles my neck as I blink the sleep from my eyes and scan my surroundings. This isn’t my room.

An arm tightens around my waist and a soft male groan accompanies the movement. The air rushes from my lungs as I realise where I am and what I’m doing. I’m spooning with Nathan.

I’m spooning with Nathan, who is

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