of crappy.”
Rounding the bed, I set the food I’d brought her on the edge of the mattress, then climb in beside her and pull her onto my chest before she can protest.
“Sleep,” I order.
“It’s your last day. You should be up by the pool drinking Piña Coladas––”
“Nora. Sleep.”
She rests her head back down against my pec for about two seconds before raising it again. “But I feel weird sleeping––”
“Nora. Seriously. Go to sleep. I’m a Leo, remember? If I didn’t want to be here, I wouldn’t be.”
Chewing on her lower lip, she peeks up at me. “You sure?”
The vulnerability that shines through is staggering, and even though I don’t know what to do with it, I choke out, “Yeah. Positive.”
Seconds later, her muscles melt into me, and she slips into unconsciousness.
Unsure of what to do with myself or how I even got myself into this position in the first place, I look around Nora’s room and notice how cluttered it is. It’s not a mess by any means, but her outfit from the night before is tossed in the corner near her suitcase, and her shoes are lying in the center of the room. It’s like she felt so sick that she couldn’t even find the effort to keep her otherwise tidy room in check.
A few tissues are wadded up and thrown haphazardly onto the minuscule nightstand beside the bed, so I grab them with my hand that isn’t tucked around Nora and toss them in the garbage can across the room like a seasoned basketball player.
I replace the used tissues on the nightstand with the food I’d grabbed from the buffet. I wouldn’t want them to get lost in the sheets. Hopefully, when she wakes up, she’ll feel like eating. She’s already a tiny little thing. She needs to start keeping food down, or I might need to get the staff involved.
Could she need an IV or something?
I glance down at her again. She looks okay. She looks better than okay. Even without any makeup on and her hair a tangled mess, she’s beautiful.
And damn, her lashes are long. How did I never notice the smattering of freckles along the bridge of her nose? Does she always sleep with her mouth slightly parted like that? Her breath doesn’t smell like puke, so I’m going to assume she brushed her teeth after the last time she lost her cookies in the toilet. Even with the rat’s nest on her head that replaced her long brown hair, she’s still the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen.
I squeeze my arm a little tighter around her, then close my eyes to get some sleep. I’m not tired or anything, but there’s a weird sense of peace when I’m holding her, and I’d be a fool to let it go.
To let her go.
I’m not sure how long I’ve slept, but my arm is officially numb. Carefully, I slide it out from beneath Nora’s head as she snores softly, then get to my feet.
My mouth spreads into a smile before I realize how creepy I must look staring at her while she sleeps. With a quick shake of my head to snap myself out of whatever the hell I’m feeling, I scan her room again. Her outfit from yesterday is still on the floor, so I fold it before setting it carefully on her closed suitcase, then I plug in her cell phone to let it charge in case she needs it when she wakes up. Satisfied that the main living space is relatively in order, I head to the bathroom.
A white, unused hand towel hangs on the hook near the mirror, so I wet it, then wipe down the sink and toilet the best that I can without any actual disinfectant. I shrug while inspecting my handiwork.
It’ll have to do.
Once I’m finished, I toss the used towel beneath the sink and wash my hands with soap while popping my head out of the bathroom door to make sure Nora is still resting. As if she can feel my gaze, she opens her heavy lids and looks over at me but doesn’t say a word.
“How’d you sleep?” My gritty voice breaks the silence while I dry my hands.
“Better, actually. Thank you.”
“I didn’t do much.”
“And I beg to differ. Did you clean?”
I shrug. “Not really. Just a little here and there.”
“I’m sorry,” she apologizes before burying her face in her hands.
Walking back to the bed, I sit on the side and push aside some of her