by Elle Keating
“Still friends?”
An hour later.
“Everything okay?”
Several minutes ago.
“Tell me I didn’t fuck things up.”
She sighed as she zeroed in on the last one. If anyone had fucked things up it was her. She swore she wouldn’t get involved with him. Men like him were trouble and weren’t in it for the long haul. Those days of casual flings were over for her. But last night, she had found it impossible to resist him. When he had revealed that he was involved with underground fighting and why, that he resorted to either fighting or fucking when he was on edge, she should have felt anything but turned on. But the heated look in his eyes, the way he pleaded with her to leave because he wanted the same thing she did in that moment, was her undoing and she had to take a taste.
A text chimed through at that very moment, but this time it was from Tom. He said he was just checking in and wondering how things were going with her moody neighbor. She didn’t have the energy to respond right now so she set her phone back on the table and decided to start a television series that she had always wanted to watch but could never find the time. Well, now she had days to burn as long as she could keep her eyes open.
She didn’t even make it through the opening credits when there was a knock at her door. She stared at the door, hoping her Jedi powers would convince that person to go away, but Mack wasn’t having it. He barked, then whined. Barked some more and looked over at her, as if he couldn’t understand why she wasn’t getting her ass up off the couch. With monumental effort, Anna paused the television, stood and lumbered across the room. Hugging the blanket around her, she peeked through the peep hole.
“I know you’re in there, Anna. I saw you though the bay window.”
Shit! Reluctantly, she opened the door and his smile vanished.
“You don’t look… well.”
“I’m not. And you may want to stay right where you are if you don’t want to get sick.”
“Well, it’s probably too late for that,” he said, stepping past her and into her home. “You know, since we exchanged cooties last night.”
“Cooties?”
He bent down and showed Mack some love. “Yep.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard a man use that word.”
“So what should I look forward to?”
Anna made her way to the couch and bundled herself in her blankets. “Strep throat.” His easygoing smile vanished completely. “Ever have it before?”
“Yeah, when I was six,” he said.
“Wow, must have had it pretty bad if you can remember that far back.”
“It went untreated and I ended up in the hospital.”
“Untreated? Why didn’t your parents take you to the doctor?”
“It’s a long story, one for another time. So what are we watching?” he gestured to the television.
“Seriously, you want to stay and watch television with me? I’m kind of disgusting right now and can infect you if I hadn’t already done so last night.”
“About that… have you been avoiding me?” he asked, crossing his arms over his massive chest.
“No… I was working… and I am sick… and…” He raised a brow and her already fever flushed cheeks grew even warmer. “Maybe a little.”
“Thought so. I should have made you pinky promise.”
“Pinky promise?”
“Yes. When we said that we would be able to go back to being friends, we should have sealed it with a pinky promise,” he said, holding up his pinky.
“Cooties, pinky promises… Did you cash in your man card?”
“I grew up in a large family with many brothers and a sister. Pinky promises were law.” Suddenly, he was on the move and disappeared into her kitchen. She would have followed him but she had zero energy at this point. After a few minutes he returned. “Alright, I’ll be back.”
“Where are you going?”
“To the store. You’re low on a few things and if you’re going to do this whole sick thing correctly, I’ll need to stock up.”
“Brennan, you don’t have to…”
“I know I don’t,” he said, planting a bottle of water in her hand. “Drink up. You don’t want to become dehydrated.”
“Hey, I’m the doctor here.”
“Not tonight you aren’t. You’re my patient and you’re going to follow my orders.”
If she wasn’t feeling like death, Anna would have found this back and forth to be sexy as hell. Anna watched Brennan give Mack a pat on his head before heading out the door. She stared at the television and debated whether she should push PLAY. Mack made the decision for her when he jumped up onto the couch and snuggled with her. His warmth and his heavy breathing lulled her to sleep within minutes.
Chapter Fourteen
Brennan
He flew through the market as fast as he could and made it back to Anna’s house in under an hour. Mack greeted him at the door as he let himself in. As expected, Anna was passed out on the couch. She had been struggling to keep her eyes open when he first got there, when she had told him what he had suspected all day. That even though she may have been working and was definitely under the weather, she had been avoiding him. His rational side told him to abort, that this wasn’t going to end well. He had never been friends with a woman, sister and relatives not included. But he couldn’t stay away. There was something about her, something he couldn’t explain.
He set the groceries on the kitchen counter and got right to work. He had cheated a little and purchased an already cooked rotisserie chicken, something he never did, as he liked to prepare all meals from scratch. But he wanted to spend less time in the kitchen tonight and more time watching over her. Because he remembered, even after all these years, what it felt like. The high fever, the chills, going in and out of consciousness.
He chopped up some fresh herbs and seasoned the chicken. Next, he prepared the stock. Broth was everything and where you need to spend the most time, making sure it wasn’t too salty, but still bursting with flavor. He added carrots, celery and onion to the broth and set the slow cooker on high. The soup wouldn’t be ready for a few hours, and that was fine, since he was confident she would be out cold for awhile. Brennan cleaned up the kitchen, grabbed a bottle of water and made his way to the living room. Mack followed him in and made himself at home on the floor directly below Anna. Brennan leaned over and felt her head. She was warm but not scolding hot. He would keep an eye on that, though. He sat on the other side of the couch and found one of his favorite movies of all time. He could watch Goodfellas at least once a month and never tire of it. He sat back, dimmed the lights, and downed a bottle of water.
About an hour in, Anna shifted beneath the blankets and then she completely threw them off. Sweat had gathered along her brow. He felt her head with the back of his hand. She was burning up and that scared him. He looked at the bottle of water he had given her before he had left for the market and noticed that she had barely taken a sip. He stalked out to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of Gatorade from the fridge. He found two types of medicine on the counter, one an antibiotic, the other ibuprofen. A pill had been torn from the foil packet. At least she had started her antibiotics. But the cap on the ibuprofen was still sealed shut. He emptied two into his palm and headed into the living room. He didn’t want to wake her, but he didn’t like how hot her head felt. He knelt on the floor next to her and jostled her until she opened her eyes.
“Anna, your fever is getting worse.” Her eyes were glassy and her skin was blotchy. She tried to swing her legs around and he stopped her. “Where are you going?”
“To get ibuprofen.”
“I have it right here.” He placed two pills in her hand and gave her the Gatorade. She struggled to throw back the pills, probably because her throat was sore.
“What’s that smell?”
“Chicken noodle soup.”
“You cooked?”
“Yes, it’s kind of my thing,�
� he said. “Are you hungry? The soup’s not quite done, but I could get you some ice cream, a popsicle to hold you over.”
“You bought popsicles and ice cream?”
“Yep, cherry popsicles and three kinds of ice cream. Wasn’t sure what you liked.”
“You didn’t really need to do all that.”
“You keep saying that.”
“Because it’s true.”
“Go back to sleep,” he said.
“Yes, doctor.” Within minutes she had drifted off again. He was all set to continue his mafia movie marathon when Anna kicked off her covers again. But this time, she stripped off her lounge pants and socks, leaving her in just a tank top and pink panties. Which wasn’t good. Even feverish and flushed she looked fucking incredible.
He was a good guy, but he wasn’t a saint. No way he could sit on this couch with her asleep in just her panties and a tank top, and no bra. Now that he had tasted her, had sucked on those needy peaks, it was impossible not to envision himself doing it again. In a flash he was on his feet, her in his arms and he was walking down the hallway looking for her bedroom. He found it easily, laid her on her bed and quickly covered her with a sheet. He switched on the ceiling fan above her. She sighed in her sleep and after a few minutes of just watching her to see if she was comfortable, he shut the light off and returned to the living room. And breathed his own sigh of relief.
***
Anna
Anna shot up in bed to find Mack staring at her with his head cocked. She pressed her hand to her head and was relieved to encounter sweaty but cool skin. Her fever had broken, but her throat was still sore and as dry as the Sahara Desert. She stumbled out of bed and the sheet fell away, revealing her bare legs. How did she get here? Why was she in just her tank top and panties? She went to her bureau and threw on a pair of yoga pants and made her way to the kitchen only to find Brennan sound asleep on her couch. She stopped so suddenly that Mack rammed her from behind.
The events of last night came flooding back. Brennan coming over, staying with her as she slipped in and out of her fever-induced sleep. The smell of rosemary lingered in the air, reminding her that he had made her soup, though she hadn’t been up to eating before she drifted off for good. She drew closer and took him in. She had no idea how Brennan had fallen asleep in his current position. Sitting up, his feet propped up on the ottoman, hands folded across his chest. His breathing was steady, while long eyelashes rested against his cheeks. He was stunning. She could have stood there all day watching him, but Mack had to go and ruin her voyeur session and nudge Brennan’s leg with his snout.
“Hey, boy,” Brennan said, rubbing his eyes. “You need to go outside?”
“Good morning,” she said.
Brennan sprang to his feet. “Hey. How are ya feeling?”
“Fever broke,” she said, crossing her arms over her braless chest. “Did you sleep here all night?”
“I slept a little, but mostly binged on mafia movies.” She didn’t know what to say. Why would he stay here, take care of her, risk getting sick himself?
“Are you hungry?”
“Not yet. But I am thirsty.” She made her way to the kitchen and opened her fridge. At least a dozen bottles of Gatorade and orange juice lined one side of her fridge. Containers of applesauce, Jell-O, and pudding flanked the other. And then there was the lobster pot full of what she assumed was the soup he had made her. She blinked back tears because the last time she remembered someone doing something like this for her was her mother. Tom was a nice guy, but she had never allowed him to get close, never gave him the opportunity. She was thankful that her hair had broken free of her bun and formed a wall of hair, shielding her from Brennan’s gaze.
“Looks like Mack needs to go out and take care of business. Mind if I take him for a walk?”
Gatorade, soup, Jell-O, pudding and now he wanted to walk her dog? Mack’s wagging tail told her that he was absolutely on board. “He really does know what that word means,” he said.
“Sure does.”
“Where’s his leash?”
“Hanging on the hook behind the front door,” she said. She couldn’t tell Brennan no. Mack was too excited and she was in no shape to walk Mack herself.
“I’ll be right back.” Mack followed Brennan to the door and waited patiently while he snapped on his leash. She sipped on a bottle of Gatorade as she watched them leave. Her eyes began to burn, and she realized that it wasn’t because she was sick. Why was she so emotional this morning? She was Anna Bowman. Tough and rarely cried, especially not over a man. So what if he took care of her, made her soup and was now picking up her dog’s poop?
She was dehydrated and hadn’t eaten in almost twenty-four hours. That was it. She went back to the fridge and opened the freezer and found it packed to the gills. She snatched a pint of Haagen-Dazs chocolate ice cream and a spoon and plopped herself on the couch. The first bite of ice cream soothed her raw throat and she felt like she was in heaven. Anna shifted in her seat and felt a lump beneath her. She looked down and saw the lounge pants she had been wearing last night stuffed between the couch cushions. She had been burning up, but had she been hot enough to strip with Brennan just feet from her? In her haze last night, anything was possible.
But what wasn’t possible? Brennan would never have removed her clothing. And she knew that without a doubt, even though she had only known him for a couple weeks, which was strange. About fifteen minutes later and half the pint gone, Brennan returned with an out of breath Mack, which made Anna happy. Mack went straight to his water bowl the second Brennan unleashed him.
“He likes you,” Anna said.
Brennan settled in the chair opposite of her. “Well, I did just take him for a w-a-l-k… and I may have accidentally tossed some rotisserie chicken his way last night while I was cooking to get in his good graces.”
“Oh no. How much is some?”
His easygoing smile evaporated. “Shit, does he have allergies? It was just two small pieces. When he looked up at me with those brown eyes, I couldn’t help…”
“No, two pieces is fine. He’s not allergic or anything, just on a strict diet. You wouldn’t believe this by looking at him now, but he was thirty pounds heavier just nine months ago.”
“Wow, that’s a drastic drop!”
Anna peered down at her ice cream, no longer in the mood. Six months ago she had a dad, one who wasn’t perfect and had been incredibly selfish, but he was still her dad. And now she was alone.
“My dad and Mack lived just over the bridge in Seaville. When I found out my dad was sick, I left my job in Philly and moved in with him. Mack was severely overweight, mainly due to lack of exercise. My dad had been battling cancer for quite some time and he hadn’t the energy to walk or play with him. The other reason Mack had packed on the pounds was because my dad started feeding him table scraps and bones filled with gristle, probably because he felt guilty he couldn’t give him the attention he deserved.”
“So, you just up and left your life in Philly to take care of your dad?”
She glanced up at him but quickly looked away. “Most people would, right?”
She forced a tight smile and tried to shake off the awkwardness. Talking about her family was foreign to her, making her feel vulnerable and completely exposed. Brennan stared at her for a long time before finally asking, “Can I get you anything else before I go?”
She tried like hell to not let her face fall, to let on that… that… what? She would miss him?
“Um… no. I think I have enough ice cream to last me into next year.” She got up and went to her bag by the front door and withdrew her prescription pad.
“You don’t have allergies, do you? To medicine, I mean?” she asked, scribbling on the piece of paper.
“No. Why?”
She ripped the blue square paper from the pad and handed it to him. He eyed it closely. “Start the antibiotics at the first sign of symptoms… if I have in fact infected you with my cootie
s.”
He gave her a sheepish grin. “Will do, Doc,” he said with a wink. “Call me if you need anything.”
Chapter Fifteen
Brennan
Brennan stared at his computer, loathing this aspect of the job. To err on the side of caution, he had chosen to stay out of the kitchen tonight just in case he had come down with Anna’s cooties. Fuck, he was getting hard just thinking of her, right there in his office. Brennan glanced at his phone. He had texted her a few hours ago and asked her how she was feeling. She hadn’t responded. Maybe she was sleeping. She needed her rest. But maybe something was wrong. Maybe her fever had come back, making her woozy. Maybe she had fallen and bumped her head and she was lying passed out on the floor somewhere. He picked up his phone and started to text her but then decided against it. But seconds later he was back at it and he shot her a text:
“Hey, how ya feeling?”
Okay, that didn’t sound too needy. Just acting like a concerned friend. Friends checked in on each other, especially when they were sick. He set his phone down and forced himself not to check and see if little circles were appearing on his phone. His phone chimed over a minute later:
“Just woke up from a four-hour nap. Fever free!”
He breathed a sigh of relief and followed up with another text:
“How’s the throat?”
She responded immediately:
“No longer feels like it’s on fire.”
Okay. She’s on the mend. All is well. Get back to work, Brennan… and stop thinking about her.