The Two of Us (Love in Isolation Book 1)

by Kennedy Fox

  She typically waits a few minutes before opening the door to give me time to leave. I go to my room and take a shower. The warm water pounds against my skin and does nothing to soothe the uneasiness I have. The entire world is experiencing loss on such a high level that it seems like a messed-up apocalyptic movie, and I’m trying to process it the best I can.

  After I change, I realize I need to do laundry. Cami probably needs clean clothes too, so I text her to leave her hamper in the hallway for me to grab. She doesn’t respond, but she’s probably sleeping, so I put a load of mine in the washer. Afterward, I busy myself with work for the rest of the afternoon. My stomach growls, and I glance out the window, noticing the sun is setting.

  I skipped lunch, so I decide on an early dinner. I make a couple of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and grab a bag of chips. Bruno sits at my feet while I eat, and Chanel sleeps on the opposite end of the couch. I turn on the TV and get sucked into the news. When I see images of the city with streets that are usually full of people looking like a ghost town, I shut it off. I don’t know why I torture myself further by watching it. Standing, I decide to prepare something for Cami to eat and switch over the washer.

  When I go back upstairs to grab the tray, I notice what I brought her earlier hasn’t been touched. Worry covers me like a warm blanket as I move closer. I stand in the hallway and suck in shallow breaths, trying to hear her on the other side. She’s not coughing, and I hope more than anything that she’s still breathing. Knowing I shouldn’t go in, but not giving two fucks, I crack open the door.

  All the lights are off, and the curtains are drawn, making the room pitch black. I see the outline of her body in the bed and notice she’s lying on her side. For a second, I stop and listen, and can hear each time she struggles to inhale, but then coughs a few times. My head tells me I should leave, that I need to get out, but my heart protests. Instead of being cautious, I take several steps forward, then crawl into bed next to her. She rustles as I wrap my arm around her blazing hot skin. It might be dangerous, but I just want to comfort her. Forcing her to deal with this alone isn’t an option anymore. If she’s ever needed me, it’s now.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  CAMERON

  I’m in and out of sleep. My throat burns, and my ribs hurt from coughing so much. I wish I could close my eyes and the next two weeks would pass by. Yesterday, I emailed my professors and told them I’m sick so they’re aware of why I’m behind on my assignments. It should be the least of my worries, but keeping a perfect GPA has been high on my priority list. It’s taken years of dedicated studying and late nights doing homework, but none of that matters when the world is in chaos.

  This is only the beginning of feeling like shit. Ryan mentioned I’d feel worse before I got better. I’ve followed his instructions and have walked around some when I feel strong enough. Each time I get the strength to sit up, I check my temperature and track the doses of Tylenol I’ve taken, so I don’t take too much. My mother has called to check on me daily, but I downplay how I am so she won’t show up and try to take care of me.

  I go from having the chills to my body being on fire several times a day. No matter what I do, I can’t get comfortable. I’ve soaked in the bath, hoping it’ll help with the stiffness and body aches, but it hasn’t. Though my appetite has vanished, I’ve forced myself to swallow down food.

  Eli has done his best, giving me plenty to eat and drink throughout the day, so I don’t have to leave my room. I’m already going stir-crazy lying in bed, but I can’t hang out downstairs with him, which kills me. Though I can’t deny how much I miss Eli’s company, witty banter, and the way he makes me laugh at the stupidest things. The past two weeks with him, even though they started rocky, ended up being the most memorable moments I’ve shared with someone. It’s because he understands me on a level most don’t bother with.

  Most guys want me because of who my family is, with hopes to climb the social ladder. That’s why I’ve dated those who are well off because they have nothing to gain from being with me, and they’re unimpressed by my fortunes.

  Eli doesn’t give two shits about my social class and has always been his true self.

  As I drift to sleep, I hear a light tap on the door and pick up my phone to see it’s a little after noon. I’m not in the mood to eat, but I tell myself I need to at least try. Minutes turn into hours, and I don’t move. Eventually, a muscular arm wraps around my stomach, waking me from a deep sleep. I press against him until I realize how close he is.

  Turning my head, I panic when I see Eli snuggled against me. Every cell in my body is on high alert because he shouldn’t be in here. I try to find my words, but nothing comes. I need to tell him to get the hell out.

  “Eli,” I say in a hushed tone. “You can’t be in my bed.”

  My words don’t faze him as he tightens his arms around me. I have a mini panic attack, knowing what could happen to him if he catches it. If I’m having a hard time breathing, what will it do to him? I’ve tried my hardest to stay away, but here he is, inches from me.

  “Eli,” I repeat louder this time, moving his arm off me and creating space between us. Just the quick movement has me breathless, but I stand my ground. “You have to leave. My germs are all over this room.”

  He gives me a cute smirk and shakes his head. “Nah, I don’t think so. I’m staying.”

  What the hell is he doing? “This isn’t up for discussion. You know the rules.”

  “Cami.” He sits up, not taking his eyes off me. “It’s okay. Let me hold you through this.”

  I suck in a deep breath, needing the oxygen and strength. “Please…” I’m nearly in tears as I beg because I don’t want to be the reason that something happens to him. The guilt would kill me before the virus could. “This is too risky.”

  “We had sex three days ago. Before that, we kissed—a lot. You undoubtedly had been carrying it this whole time, considering we’ve been here for over two weeks and haven’t been around other people since then. I’ve come to terms with catching it. It’s just a matter of time before the onset of symptoms, so the least you can do is let me comfort you.”

  Sitting on the edge of the bed, I shake my head. “You don’t know that for sure.”

  “I do. It stays in your system for days, sometimes weeks. You were fine, and now you’re not. Do you regret being around me?”

  His eyes pierce through me. “Hell no. You’re worth it, Cami.”

  As I open my mouth, instead of words come coughs, the ones that make my entire body protest. I’m having a fit and can’t catch my breath as I choke for air. Eli rushes toward me, and I hold up my palm, trying to keep him at arm’s length. A second later, he’s leaving and returns with his inhaler.

  “Inhale a few puffs of this,” he instructs, shaking it before handing it to me. “Just inhale and hold it in your lungs. It always helps me with the tightness.”

  I don’t want to use his medicine, but I’m desperate for relief. Listening to him, I do what he says when I stop coughing enough to draw in some air. After I have some, my chest isn’t as tight, but I’m shaky. I return the cap and hand it back.

  “Keep it,” he tells me. “Use it when this happens again.”

  “I can’t do that.” I sit and lean against the pillows.

  “You need it more than I do.” He’s stubborn to the bone. “Another option is sitting in the shower with hot water and breathing in the steam. That can help loosen things up.”

  Once I’m settled, Eli goes to the bathroom and comes back with a cold washcloth.

  Leaning over, he rests it on my forehead, and it slightly soothes me. Eli crawls back in bed with me and moves to his side, propping himself on his elbow. I wish he’d be smarter about this and keep his distance. Regardless of not taking a damn test, I have all the common symptoms, and the odds are stacked against him.

  “I can tell you’re uneasy about me being in here, but even if you demanded I leave, I still wouldn’t.”

 
Snapping my eyes shut, I don’t want to fight, knowing he’ll do what he wants anyway. “So you’re okay with me living with guilt if something happens to you? That’s not fair.”

  “I’d never blame you. The choice is mine, and I’m choosing you.”

  My heart flutters, and I smile. “I don’t understand how you can flirt with me when I look like a zombie.” It’s easy to know how pale I am, along with the bags under my eyes. Every time I go into the bathroom, I avoid the mirror like a vampire.

  “You’re beautiful,” he whispers, grabbing my hand and kissing my knuckles. I pull away.

  “It’s like you’re trying to get sick,” I reprimand.

  He softly chuckles. “No, I’m not, but I’ve already accepted it. In the past seventy-two hours, I haven’t been able to get you off my mind, Cami. I’ve wandered around wishing I could be near you. And I can’t figure out how you did it.”

  “Did what?” I ask, meeting his eyes.

  “Got into my head and heart so quickly,” he admits. “I mean, you’re still a major pain in my ass, but it’s different now.”

  We still haven’t talked about our night together. I was curious if he’d mention it, or just pretend nothing happened. I’ve wondered if he considers being with me a mistake, but seeing his expression is proof that he doesn’t.

  “You’re positive I’m what you want?” I ask for confirmation. Though I feel like death, talking about this is keeping my mind off it.

  Eli tilts his head. “Are you serious?”

  I shrug because I’m jaded to men using me, but his confession has butterflies dancing in my stomach. “Yeah, kinda. Not sure I’m your type and all.”

  “And what’s my type exactly?” he asks with an eyebrow arched.

  Honestly, the kind of women Eli likes are beyond me, but most guys find me hard to handle or intimidating. “I dunno, perky boobs, fat lips, brunette, tan and tall.” I list out everything I’m not.

  He smirks at my obvious lack of confidence.

  “I’m thinking about a blonde with freckles, great suckable tits, and the perfect height for fitting under my arm in bed with the best ass in all of Manhattan,” he cracks. It’s the first time I’ve laughed in days. Even when I feel like shit, he has a way of helping me escape.

  “That’s very descriptive. You sure she exists?” I mock.

  “Oh, I’m fucking positive.” He winks, beaming at me. “And just to throw all your doubts out the window, you’re the only woman I want, Cami. I’m confident about that. All those years of teasing each other led us here, and there’s nowhere I’d rather be. Must be the fever giving you those crazy thoughts because I thought I’ve been more than obvious,” Eli jokes. He comes closer, pulling me into his arms until my head rests against his chest. His heart pounds as he holds me. Partly due to his confession, the other part because my anxiety spikes at this whole situation. My coughs come in waves, but they’re manageable. With him near me, I calm down.

  As I drift away to dreamland, my breathing steadies, and Eli shifts, waking me. “You need to eat something. You skipped lunch, and I was getting ready to make you some dinner. What would you like?”

  “I’m not hungry, and nothing sounds appealing.”

  He softly presses his lips to my forehead. I miss his touch and wish I could kiss him. “Eating isn’t for enjoyment at the moment. You need to stay nourished and hydrated.”

  I take shallow breaths, covering my mouth when I cough. “What about some tomato soup?”

  He grins and hurries out of bed. “Grilled cheese?”

  “No, maybe just a piece of toast.” I rest my head on the pillow as he nods.

  “I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.” He winks.

  I snort and roll my eyes as I pull the sheet up to my chin. Eli walks out, and I’m still smiling. The anxiety I’ve felt the past few days is slowly fleeting. It’s comforting to have Eli nearby, but it doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten the risks and what’s at stake—his life.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  ELIJAH

  DAY 25

  A week ago, I went against my better judgment and entered Cami’s room. I knew I was risking exposure, but I also couldn’t forget how close we were just three days prior. Nothing I can do will change what happens. She’s been overly cautious, covering her mouth when she coughs and is continually washing her hands. There was a point when she even talked about wearing a mask to keep me from getting sick, but the damage has already been done.

  I gave her my inhaler, and she uses it when she can’t catch her breath. Each day, I make her three meals, and though she doesn’t have an appetite, she eats some of it to appease me. There were a few nights when I was worried as fuck about her because she sounded like she was choking, and all I could do was wait it out. I was so fucking helpless watching her, wishing I could do more but knowing I couldn’t.

  Each night, I lie next to her until her breathing steadies, and then she finally falls asleep. Her coughing has subsided, and lately, we’ve slept until the sun wakes us.

  This morning, I roll over to see Cami looking at me with a sweet smile.

  “I could get used to this,” she says in a low voice.

  “To what?” I clear my throat.

  “Waking up with you in my bed,” she admits, and if she wouldn’t freak out, I’d kiss her the way I’ve imagined for the past ten days. Our lips haven’t touched once, and she’s been adamant about me keeping some distance, though at this moment, we’re only inches apart. I watch her chest rise and fall, and I’m tempted but don’t. “You hungry?”

  She nods. I slide the blankets off and stand, grabbing the thermometer and handing it to her. After she places it in her mouth, we wait for it to beep. She removes it and glances at the reading, then grins.

  “No fever,” she whispers, turning it around to show me.

  “Finally.” I let out a relieved breath. “You beat it, Cami.”

  I sit on the edge of the bed and open my arms, and she falls into them.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask, noticing she’s upset.

  She lets out a sigh. “I’m just happy and worried all at the same time. I’m feeling a little better, but I’m so goddamn concerned about you.”

  Gently pushing away, I carefully wipe the tear that spills down her cheek. All I want to do is comfort her. “I’ve been counting down the days. I might be in the clear.”

  “It could take longer than that.” Her head lowers. “Up to three weeks sometimes.”

  I lift her chin with my finger, forcing her to look at me, then smile. “I’m thinking positive. And now that you’re feeling like a billion bucks, let’s get you fed.”

  “Hardy har har.” Cami stands, and I notice how frail she is as she yanks the sheets and blankets off the mattress and holds them in her arms. “I need to disinfect this room.”

  “Don’t overdo it. You’ve not been fever-free for twenty-four hours yet,” I remind her, grabbing the linens. I snicker at the thought of her using the washing machine, and she notices.

  “What’s so funny?”

  I shake my head as I leave her room and head toward the laundry room downstairs. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”

  I’ve done laundry a couple of times now, making sure she had clean clothes and changing out of mine twice a day to be on the safe side. One of these days, I’ll make her do it for shits and giggles, but she’s still not one hundred percent yet, even if she thinks she is.

  Cami texts me and lets me know she’s going to take a shower. I send her a thumbs-up emoji as I stuff the big fluffy blanket and sheets into the wash. Knowing she’s feeling better has me hopeful that if I get sick, I’ll be able to recover too. While I hope I’m just asymptomatic, I’m not holding my breath. It’s not like I could anyway, my asthma wouldn’t allow it, though it hasn’t been flaring up as much since I’ve been here.

  After I pour the detergent in and start the cycle, I go to the kitchen and grab a skillet and pull out the ingredients to make breakfast. The cabin s
till has plenty of food, probably enough to last another two weeks. While I wish we could get back to normal by then, I’m convinced it won’t be that soon.

  As I’m frying sausage links, Cami appears and looks around. “Wow, it’s super clean in here. Feels weird to be down here after all this time.”

  “You know who my mother is,” I remind her. “I learned a thing or two growing up. A person should never go to bed with a sink full of dirty dishes or a filthy floor.”

  Cami laughs. “You’re close with your mom, aren’t you?”

  I crack the eggs in a bowl and whip them together, sprinkling in cheese, onions, and mushrooms. “Absolutely. One day, I hope to repay her for all the sacrifices she made for Ava and me. I know being a single mother wasn’t easy, but she gave us the best she could, and we turned out okay.” I look over my shoulder at her and wink.

  “You did,” she says, and I can’t stop grinning. How could a woman like her even think about being with a man like me? “You were always well-mannered, too.”

  Turning on the burner, I put oil in the pan, swirling it around until it’s covered, then dump the ingredients inside. It sizzles and pops. “Well, no, not always,” I tell her. “I went to the principal’s office quite a lot in high school. Trust me when I say you didn’t miss much.”

  She huffs. “I wish I could’ve experienced public school. You were lucky to have a normal life. I’ve dreamed about what it must be like.”

  I tilt my head. “And there are a billion reasons people would switch places with you.”

  “It’s not all it’s cracked up to be, Eli. Money doesn’t buy happiness, and it sure as hell can’t buy love or normalcy. Sure, there are perks, but being a St. James has done nothing but cause me problems, honestly. Why do you think Ryan went to med school?”