cat—I would be purring. Instead, I’m a big, sick man-baby, and so I groan again. She giggles, and I like the sound too much to care that she’s laughing at me.
Her fingernails scratch lightly at my scalp and nothing in the world has ever felt this good. Nothing.
My eyes flutter closed, and I fall into the sensation. Zoey is here, in my bed. She’s touching me. I can’t say that I haven’t had thoughts of this before.
Obviously, without the fever. And the totally embarrassing sounds I keep making. But whatever. This is close enough to the kind of fantasy I never allowed myself to think through with Zoey. It’s the closest thing I’ll ever get, and I know I need to hold on to every sensation greedily.
Despite feeling horrible, I’m also starting to feel a different kind of heat that has nothing to do with my fever and everything to do with the fact that I want this to be reality. My future. Zoey, here with me. Her hands running through my hair.
“Is that better?”
“No,” I say, because I don’t want her to stop. “More.”
She laughs softly, and the sound opens up some locked door in my chest that I don’t think will close again easily. “Even when you’re sick, you’re bossy,” she says.
“You like me being bossy?”
Okay, at least that didn’t sound whiny. No, it sounded like a straight-up caveman, and I’m not sure which is worse.
I open my eyes, zeroing in on hers, which look almost like a midnight blue in the dim light. She bites her lip, and I swear, I can almost hear her answer, the one I want to hear. I like you, Gavin.
She doesn’t say that, though, and my fantasy bubble pops. The silence stretches between us, and her rhythmic touch has me sinking down into a sleep I’m not ready for. I don’t want to miss a moment of this. Because I know when I’m back on my feet, this will not be reality.
Not caring that I’m totally shameless, I scoot my body more toward the center of the bed and give her a tug around the waist, wanting her to follow. She resists, but only for a moment, and I smile when she sighs and says, “I deserve a raise.”
Could we go ahead and stop with the reminders that we work together? That would be fantastic.
I settle my head somewhere between her arm and her chest, keeping things as appropriate as I can when I really want to just wrap her up in my arms. After a moment, her hand finds my hair again and I sigh at her touch.
Again, sleep tries to claim me, but I fight it. I look up at Zoey again, realizing that she has the beginnings of a black eye. I trace it with a fingertip before she pushes my hand back down.
“What happened?”
She stares at me. “You really don’t remember?”
Uh-oh. “No. Did I … do that?”
“In a roundabout way.” When I groan, she’s quick to add, “It was an accident. You kind of passed out on me.”
Kill me now. Really. Just someone please, toss me off the cliff at the back of the house. It’s the humane thing to do.
“I’m so sorry, Zoey. Truly.”
“I know. It’s fine. Really.” She’s biting back a smile, and that worries me.
“What else did I do? Is that the worst thing?”
She raises her eyebrows. “You sure you want to know?”
Do I? Probably not.
“Maybe tomorrow you can fill me in on what I don’t remember.”
Her face clouds, the look of amusement gone. What else could I have possibly missed?
“Okay,” she says softly. “We can talk tomorrow. Nancy is almost better, so this should be out of your system quickly. I emailed work and let them know the three of us are sick and won’t be there. They’ll have to manage.”
“Nancy is better?”
She nods. “I talked to Patty. Sweet woman.”
“She is.”
“You should sleep, Gavin.”
“Will you stay?”
The words hang in the air between us. I don’t know if I’m asking her to stay at my house or stay in my bed. Or stay forever. The third is the option I’d really like, and it reminds me that I don’t just like Zoey a little. This isn’t a boy’s crush. It’s more. I’ve suspected it, but having her here in my house, I know. And that isn’t the fever talking.
“I’m sleeping on the couch,” she says. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”
That will have to be good enough. For now. But when I’m back