go away?”
When he didn’t say anything, she again opened an eye. He was still looking at her with concern but not like she was at death’s door. Except if she wasn’t dying, that meant she was going to have to live with this, with him seeing her flat on the floor looking like roadkill.
“Do you think you can move?” he asked.
“Negative.” She wasn’t moving. Ever. She heard him on his phone, telling someone he needed something liquid with electrolytes in it.
“Not drinking anything either,” she warned him, her stomach turning over at the thought.
He got up and left her, and she was grateful. When he came back in a moment later, she was back to worshipping the porcelain god, trying to catch her breath.
“Any better?” he asked when she was done.
She couldn’t speak. She couldn’t anything.
He peeled her away from the seat and gathered her in his lap. He laid her head against his shoulder and wrapped his arms around her. “Take a few deep breaths. Slowly.”
She tried but she was shaking so hard she thought maybe her teeth were going to rattle right out of her head. Finn wiped the sweat-matted hair from her face and then pressed the cool washcloth to the back of her neck.
It was heaven.
He cracked a bottle of lime-flavored water with electrolytes.
“Where did you get that?” she asked.
“Willa. She has it in her shop. Says she gives it to the nervous dogs after they throw up.”
“You told Willa I was throwing up?”
“She’s in the kitchen making you soup for tomorrow when you feel better. Elle’s bringing her a few ingredients she didn’t have.”
Pru managed a moan. “I don’t want anyone to see me like this.”
“You do realize that friends don’t actually care what you look like,” he said. “Take a sip, Pru.”
She shook her head. She couldn’t possibly swallow anything.
“Just a sip. Trust me, it’ll help.”
She did trust him. But drinking anything was going to be a disaster of major proportions.
He was moving her, using his shoulder to hold her head forward. It was take a sip or drown.
She took a sip.
“Good girl,” he whispered and let her settle back against him. They sat there, silent, for what seemed like days. Her stomach slowly stopped doing backflips.
“How do you feel?” he asked after a while.
She had no idea.
When she didn’t enlighten him, he took the washcloth from her neck, refolded it, and put it against her forehead.
“Eddie,” she croaked. “He might be sick too—”
“I’ve got him covered. Spence is with him but the old guy’s got a stomach of iron and doesn’t appear to be affected.
She managed a nod, eyes still closed. She must have drifted off then because when she opened her eyes again the light was different in the bathroom, like some time had gone by.
Finn was still on the floor with her, only he was shirtless now, wearing just his jeans.
Oh yeah. She remembered now. She’d thrown up a bunch more times. She had her hands curled around his neck, clutching him like he was her only lifeline.
And he was. She stared at his chest. She couldn’t stop herself. No matter how many times she saw his stomach, she wanted to lick it each time.
Not that she wanted to stop there either.
Nope, she wanted to lick upward to his neck and then trail back down. She wanted to drop to her knees and slowly ease his jeans over his hips and—
“You okay?” he asked. “You just moaned.”
Huh. Maybe she really was going to live. She dragged her back to his. His hair was tousled, his jaw beyond a five o’clock shadow, but he still looked hot.
She hated him. “You should go,” she said knowing he either had to work or sleep.
He shook his head and brushed his lips over her forehead at the hairline. “It’s been a couple of hours since you last got sick,” he said. “Sip some more water.”
Her stomach was much calmer now, but her head was beating to its own drum. She could feel it pulsating.
“You’re dehydrated,” he said. “You need the water to get rid of the fever and headache.”
Too achy to argue, she nodded. She managed to take a few sips and then her body took over, demanding more.
“Careful,” Finn warned, pulling it away when she started to gulp it. “Let’s see how that settles first.”
“Thor?”
“He’s right here, sleeping on my feet. You want him?”
Yes. But she was in bad enough shape to hug him too tight and the last time she’d done that, he’d