The Two of Us (Love in Isolation Book 1)

by Kennedy Fox

  "Yes?" he asks. It's not quite lunchtime yet, so I'm sure he's wondering what I want.

  I rest my head against the door and look up at the ceiling, trying to find the strength to keep it together. "I miss you," I say.

  He chuckles, then coughs before responding. "I miss you, too."

  "I hate that you’re so close, yet so far away," I admit, thinking back to what Ryan said about his feelings for me. I hear him sit on the floor too. We're back to back with only a few inches of thick wood separating us.

  “Me too. What have you been doing today?" He takes several puffs of his inhaler.

  "I called the hotline for you to see if we could get a test and…"

  "They refused," he finishes. "Amiright?"

  "Yes." I grow quiet and close my eyes, wishing this would pass soon.

  "I’ll be okay, Cami. I'm already on day five and am on the mend."

  I smile. "You don't sound like it."

  “Oh really? I heard women really like a man with a raspy voice," he tells me. “I’ve just been practicing to impress you.”

  I chuckle and shake my head, appreciating the way he’s trying to lift my spirits. "I'm worried that if you recover and I get it again, then you could be re-infected. I was reading yesterday about someone who tested positive twice. We’ll both just keep passing it to each other, and eventually one of us will get it bad enough to be hospitalized," I say. I know I’m being dramatic, but it’s a possibility.

  "When I'm better, we'll wipe down every wall, ceiling, and floor, not leaving a spot untouched. As long as we do our due diligence, we'll be okay. I just have to survive the next week," he breathlessly says.

  "My cooking isn't the best, so you’re probably starving," I mock, wanting to get a rise out of him. It works because he laughs. “Bruno wouldn’t even eat my hamburger.” I pout.

  “To be fair, he’s a vegetarian,” he states, and I burst out laughing.

  “You’re such a liar.” I shake my head. “It was burnt. He probably thought it was mud.”

  “I would’ve eaten it,” he says. “I can’t taste for shit anyway.”

  Chuckling, I smile and love that we can still communicate like this. If this is as close as we can be, I'll take it. And when he's better, I’ll make it up to him in all the right ways. I miss his touch, his kisses, and the way he looks at me as though I'm his everything. Just the thought of losing him scares me beyond belief.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  ELIJAH

  DAY 35

  It's been twelve grueling days of feeling like shit, but when I woke up this morning, I didn't feel like there was a pillow over my face. Though my back aches from coughing so much, I think the hard part is over, as long as I don't relapse or get pneumonia. I roll over in bed and reach for the thermometer. I place it under my tongue and wait, and I’m shocked to see my fever has finally broke. Thank fuck.

  There were a few days when I was worried. My inhaler barely provided any relief, and I almost asked Cameron to rush me to the hospital, but I kept holding on, hoping my body would fight it. When I was at my worst, I told my mother I was sick too. She nearly had a heart attack, but I couldn't keep it a secret just in case something terrible happened.

  Mom called Ava, who then insisted on coming to the cabin, but I told her it was best if she didn't and that I’d check in as much as I could. I climb out of bed and go to the window that overlooks a meadow. Fog bellows over the dense grass, and in the distance, I can see the mountains. Instead of going back to sleep, I take a hot shower. Though my skin is sensitive to the touch, the water relaxes me and the steam helps my breathing. Once I’m done, I realize I gave Cami all my clothes.

  I forgot I asked her if she could do my laundry yesterday. I only packed one suitcase because I didn't know how long I'd be here. At this rate, I should've taken everything I owned, considering I probably won't be returning home for at least another month. Probably longer, though. Not that I'm complaining because that means more uninterrupted time with Cami.

  For the first time in ten days, I leave my bedroom and walk down the hallway with a towel wrapped around my waist. I carefully take the stairs, and when I get to the bottom step, Bruno comes rushing toward me.

  "Hey, boy." I smile wide as he tries to jump on me, and I tell him to sit, then pet his head. It's barely past six in the morning, so everything is quiet.

  When I walk into the washroom, my clothes are in the dryer. A grin touches my lips because she actually figured it out, not that I completely doubted her. Okay, maybe just a little. I put all of my items into a spare basket and put on a pair of joggers and my favorite Yankees T-shirt. Just as I turn around, I nearly run into Cami.

  "Oh my God!" she yelps, covering her mouth with her hands. "I thought you were a burglar."

  I chuckle. "Who broke in to steal my underwear?"

  "I came downstairs to make some coffee so I could start doing schoolwork, and I heard noises."

  I look down at her hand and notice she's tightly grasping a skillet.

  "And what's that for?" I point at it and grin.

  "To kill you!" She swings it in the air, putting all of her weight into it. Bruno runs to her and thinks it’s time to play.

  I hold the basket under one arm and laugh. “Not sure if that would do the job, babe. You should stick with statues. At least they’re heavy as hell."

  Her eyes meet mine, then she gazes down my body and back up. A blush hits her cheek, and I smirk. “Are you feeling better?" she asks, swallowing hard.

  I nod. "Much. Not fully, but I'm on the rebound. No fever."

  "Thank God," she whispers, her shoulders relaxing. Cami drops the pan, then wraps her arms around me. Dropping the basket, I hold her close, smelling the sweetness of the shampoo in her hair, and never want to let her go. "I've been so worried."

  "I know. Me too," I admit. "I got lucky. Didn’t hurt having you take care of me." I smirk.

  "It's easy to take things for granted when you suddenly realize you may never be able to again," she says, then pulls away. "I had tons of time to think about that between my fever-induced nightmares. The fear of not living is what scared me the most. But the realization that tomorrow isn’t promised was empowering in a way."

  I grin and pick up my basket of clean clothes. "I can relate. I thought about all the things I wanted to do and never have, along with adding to my bucket list. I've never been in a situation like this before, and I never want to be again." I cough, and suck in as much air as I can, but I end up dropping the basket, and Cami moves toward me.

  "I'm fine." I gasp, trying to catch my breath. This has rapidly become my new normal for the past week and a half. While I bend over because I don’t have much strength, I know it's best to stand straight to open my airway. Quickly, fatigue takes over, and I have a full-blown asthma attack.

  "What can I get you?" Cami asks, panicking. I can't even catch my breath long enough to say two syllables, but she figures it out on her own. She rushes away, running as fast as she can out of the room. I feel like someone is squeezing the air out of me as the pressure of a million pounds sits on my chest. Though she's only gone for a moment, it seems like an eternity.

  She hands me my inhaler, and I put the plastic up to my mouth and push down, allowing the medicine to fill my lungs. I take three more pumps, needing it to work faster than it is. Eventually, it does, but my heart is galloping at full speed, and my hand is unsteady from the medication hitting my bloodstream. Cami watches me intently with fear written all over her face.

  "I'm okay," I tell her. "My asthma attacks are a million times worse right now. Go wash your hands," I remind her, knowing she touched something that came from my room.

  She quickly does, and I pick up the basket, then follow her into the kitchen as she scrubs her hands under the hot water. I’m exhausted all over again, and my body aches, but I’m determined to have a little time with her today.

  "You're going to make me worry to death or give me gray hair."

  �
�You’d be sexy with some gray." I chuckle and notice how spotless everything is. "You know what would be great right now?"

  Blinking up at me, she grins. "Coffee?"

  "Yep. The caffeine helps with my asthma."

  "Really?” She tilts her head. “That’s good to know."

  "Yep, I learned that in college. My doctor suggested it when I didn’t have a rescue inhaler at work one time. He said coffee acts as a bronchodilator and in a pinch can help with attacks. It's a reason I drink several cups in the morning."

  She nods. "Strong ass double shot of espresso coming right up," she sing-songs, using the fancy machine that auto grinds the beans. As it drips, she places a can of Lysol in my basket. "When you go up there, spray everything down, then take your linens off the bed and put them in the washer. We have some cleaning to do. I want the virus out of the cabin forever. We’ll know we’re in the clear in a couple of weeks if we’re both healthy and then should just live here for eternity."

  “I could definitely get on board with that plan.” I’m dying to kiss her, but don’t. It’s too soon.

  Bruno moseys into the kitchen, goes to his bowl, and barks three times. Cami looks at me with a proud smile. "I taught him to do that when he's hungry."

  I nearly snort because he's been commanding me like that since he was a puppy, but it’s sweet that they’ve been bonding, so I don’t want to burst her bubble. "Nice. Maybe I should stay in my room, and you can teach him how not to get in people's personal space."

  She pets his head, then grabs some food and pours it in his dish. "We made a deal. I think by the time we return to the real world, Bruno will have his act together."

  "He's his own boss. But hey, you're cuter than me, so it's possible he’ll listen." I shoot her a wink, then go upstairs. I take a few puffs from my inhaler and set my clothes on top of the dresser. Though I feel weak, I pull off all the sheets and blankets, and put them in a big pile before spraying as much Lysol as I can handle in the room. Considering the smallest tasks exhaust me, I sit down for a short break.

  Grabbing the linens, I carry them downstairs, stuff them in the wash, and start it before going to the kitchen and lathering my hands with soap. It’s weird how it’s become an obsessive part of my everyday life—wash, clean, sanitize. I didn’t think much about it before all of this happened, but now I can’t do it enough.

  Cami stands at the stove, and I admire the booty shorts she’s wearing that show off her perfect ass cheeks. She's making scrambled eggs, something she recently learned how to do when I first got sick and even whipped up some pancake mix. After a second, she catches me staring and turns and grins. "Coffee’s ready."

  I can’t stop staring as the early morning sun reflects through the window and casts a glow over her skin. Damn, she's just so gorgeous, and she’s going to be mine. A small smile plays on my lips as I walk toward her, and she hands me the mug. I thank her, then grab some creamer before taking a sip. "Whoa," I say, tasting the hint of chocolate. "This is different. What kind is it?"

  "Some ridiculously expensive kind Daddy enjoys," she says. "You like it?"

  I nearly down half of it in two gulps. "It's incredible."

  “Apparently…" She lingers, then chuckles. “It comes from cat poop.”

  “What?" I nearly choke, looking at her with wide eyes, hoping she’s joking. “Are you serious?”

  She acts like it’s no big deal. “Yeah, Kopi Luwak. Some luxurious bean. I don’t know. Sounds odd, but glad you like it, though."

  “Rich people are so fucking weird,” I murmur, and she laughs.

  Cami places the eggs on two plates, covers them, then goes to a cabinet. “We have enough to last us through an apocalypse." Cami waves her hand down a shelf, and she's not lying. It’s full of golden coffee bags. I lean against the counter, admiring how sexy she is. “Great. Guess we’re drinking cat shit coffee for the rest of our quarantine.”

  She turns around and notices my gawking, then laughs. "What? Do I have food in my teeth?"

  "Nope, just thinking how fucking beautiful you are and how it was torture being away from you," I say, setting my mug down. Reaching for her, I pull her into my arms, tempted to close the gap between us. Our mouths are inches apart, and all I want to do is kiss her. I've missed her so damn much, but I also don't want to re-infect her. She should have some immunity built up, considering she survived it, but there are still a lot of unknowns about this particular virus. As I'm about to pull away, she stands on her tiptoes and moves in. Taking the lead, she parts her lips and presses them against mine. I should push her away, but now that I’m tasting her, I lose all my willpower. We exchange a searing-hot kiss, and we nearly melt into one another. I can't help but grab her ass as she moans into my mouth.

  "Eli," she whispers.

  "Mmm," I say, plucking her bottom lip between my teeth when she pulls away.

  "Our eggs are getting cold," she says dreamily, then goes in for another.

  “Not the words I want to hear right now." I groan, adjusting myself.

  Her hands twist in my hair, and the only thing that stops us from going any further is the fire alarm blaring through the cabin.

  Her eyes go wide. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

  I notice the burner is on with a skillet on top, and it's smoking. Immediately, I turn it off and let out a hearty laugh.

  "Right when I thought I was becoming a chef." She groans. "At least I took the eggs out before walking away."

  "This is true," I reassure her with a wink, opening the windows and fanning a towel to try to clear the smoke. "Nice save."

  Once the alarm is off, and our ears are safe, Cami grabs another pan and pours the pancake mix inside. “I thought I’d try my hand at pancakes since the video I watched on TikTok made it look easy.”

  "You shouldn't make them so big. They might not cook all the way through and will be difficult to flip," I explain because I learned the hard way when I was thirteen. It always seems like a good idea, but it's not.

  She turns and throws me a smart-ass look. "I've got this."

  “Pretty confident for someone who nearly caught the cabin on fire,” I tease.

  She wrinkles her nose and snarls.

  I lean against the counter and watch her. Because she’s so stubborn and wants to prove her point, she grabs the handle with both hands and proceeds to flip it as though she’s a celebrity chef. Only she puts too much strength into it and the cake flies in the air, then falls dough side down on the floor with a splat. Seconds later, Bruno rushes into the kitchen and gobbles it up, not caring how hot it is.

  Cami frowns, then shrugs. "Good boy." She leans down and pets his head. "He's a champ at cleaning messes."

  I nearly fall down laughing. "I wonder how many messes he's eaten in the past two weeks."

  "It's our little secret." She looks at him. "Right, Bruno?"

  He stares up at her, his little tail wiggling as he begs for more. "Bruno," I warn, and he turns and trots away once he realizes he’s not getting it. I try not to feed him too many table scraps because it’s not healthy for him.

  "Let me help," I tell Cami, and she reluctantly moves over. I scoop the batter, then pour it into three perfect circles. They're palm size and don't take too long to cook before I flip them over.

  She playfully scoffs. “Okay, now you’re showing off."

  "Pancakes were one of my favorite things to make when I was old enough to stay home alone. I remember cooking so many one time that I was nearly sick from eating them. I had a stomachache for days."

  A giggle escapes her. "I can only imagine. We never ate stuff like that growing up. I would’ve probably killed someone for a stack of pancakes at thirteen. And now, I go between eating like a rabbit and gobbling up all the processed shit because of how strict my mother was."

  “She was weird about sugar," I confirm, remembering the weird shit she’d try to feed me when I was playing with Ryan. It always tasted like cardboard.

  She nods. “Apparently, it goes stra
ight to your hips. So every Valentine's Day, Easter, and Halloween, I buy ten bags of candy. You'd probably throw up if I told you how much of it I eat. Then I go back to refusing carbs for a few months. It’s a vicious, stupid cycle."

  “Your secrets are safe with me." I make a few more pancakes and give her a stack of four, then she grabs some fancy ass maple syrup from the cabinet.

  "Well, now I know the way straight to your heart. Bread, sugar, and sweets."

  She nods, takes a bite, and moans loudly. “And your cock,” she adds.

  “That too.” I chuckle. “And what’s his name?”

  She eyes me with a smirk. “Zeus. How could I forget?”

  “Damn, I’ve really missed you,” I admit again, imagining our night together.

  “Me too.” She grins with a mouthful. “I’ve missed having real food. It’s so much better when you cook," she says.

  I snicker. “Probably because it’s actually edible.”

  “That is most definitely why.”

  I meet her eyes as I take my own plate to the table. There are unspoken words and stolen glances as we eat, both wanting to be all over each other but knowing we can’t just yet.

  We clean the kitchen once we’re finished, but it takes a while since I get out of breath quickly.

  For lunch, we pop a pizza in the oven and eat on the couch while we watch some new docuseries about a religious cult in Texas on Netflix. We lie around the rest of the afternoon, holding each other close, and I squeeze her just a little tighter while we watch the news.

  Though it’s been over a month since I left my apartment, I don’t want this to end. I could get used to this. Cami’s become such an integral part of my days that when this is all over, and we go back to our everyday lives, I’ll probably be lost.

  Eventually, she changes the channel, and we try to tune into something more comedic to take our mind off what’s happening in the world. Though I have a lot of work to catch up on, one more day off won’t hurt. We spend the rest of the night together, taking every advantage of this time as we can.