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by Anna B. Doe


  So, I did the only other thing I could think of, I went to the bathroom, damped one towel in cool water and pressed it against his burning forehead. On repeat, I switched between cooling down his head and cleaning his sweaty chest. I hoped that Mrs. Tayson would return one of my calls, but nothing.

  I was starting to get extremely worried. Who should I call? I didn’t know any of his friends. The only two people who I did know were out of town. That’s when I saw it—Sienna’s message on his phone. It wasn’t anything recent, but J.D. isn’t a texting kind of guy so it was sitting on the top of his inbox. Without thinking too much about it, I called her.

  “I stopped by the drug store on the way,” Sienna’s hushed words bring me out of my thoughts. “Bought some Tylenol and Ibuprofen. I also bought some stuff like fruit and soup. They are in the car. Mind going to get them?”

  I let my hands fall to my side and look at her. “I’ll get them.”

  Her hand cups my cheek.

  “It’s going to be okay,” she reassures me. “Where is he?”

  “In his room. When you climb the stairs, the second door on the right.”

  “I’ll grab some water and go see how he’s doing. You grab the stuff from my car and put them in the kitchen.”

  I give her a nod to let her know I heard her and watch her enter the house.

  Sienna’s here. Everything will be okay.

  Softly, I knock two times on the door before opening it and peeking inside. The room is dark except of the glow of the small lamp on the nightstand.

  J.D. is lying in the middle of a king-size bed. His legs tangled in rich dark-green sheets.

  Like his house, his room is big and masculine, representing the guy living inside to a T.

  There is a giant TV on the wall opposite of the bed—so male-like—with a dresser underneath it. Phone, wallet, car keys, and a few other knick-knacks are on the dresser, but that’s kind of it. A striped brown and green rug is on the floor between the bed and the dresser matches light brown walls.

  On my right side are two doors. One probably leads to the en-suite bathroom and the other to the walk-in closet.

  J.D. doesn’t move a muscle when I enter. Quietly, I move toward him not to scare him if he didn’t hear me. “Shelton?”

  The only response I get is slight ruffling of the sheets.

  “J.D., wake up.”

  I stand next to the bed and look down at him. His cheeks are flushed and there is sweat on his forehead.

  A bowl with water and a towel is on the nightstand where Grace left them.

  Sighting, I sit on the edge of the bed. I leave the bag with his medicine and glass with water on the nightstand that’s closer to me and turn to him.

  I let my hand touch his forehead. I can feel the heat radiating off of his body. Even more intense than before. My fingers brush short, damp strands off his hair.

  “Wake up, sleepyhead,” I murmur softly. “It’s time to wake up.”

  Slowly, so painfully slowly, his eyes open. Light green eyes that are usually clear and almost lethally focused are now glossy with fever.

  His lips curl into a loopy, half smile.

  “What did I do to have you in my bed, Roberts?” His rough, sleepy voice makes goosebumps rise on my skin.

  “You’re unbelievable, Shelton.” I shake my head in disbelief. “Come on, get up. You’ve been lying around all day. Made your sister worry.”

  “All day?”

  “Yep, you have a fever.” I curl my hand around his shoulders and help him sit. Throwing a few pillows next to the headboard I pop him against them. “You have to take your medicine if you want to get better.”

  Handing him two pills, I take the glass and carefully put it in his shaky fingers. Like a good boy, he puts the pills in his mouth and washes them down with water.

  “You want more?” I ask once he finishes the whole glass. “You should probably drink more. Grace said she could barely get you to open your eyes. You’ll get dehydrated and then we’ll really have to call the ambulance.”

  “No ambulance,” he winces at my words. “But water would be nice.”

  I get off the bed and open the first door. Luckily, it’s the bathroom so I refill the glass with fresh water and return to the bed.

  “You feel like eating something? I bought some soup and fruit.”

  “You cooked?”

  A very unladylike snort comes out of my mouth.

  “I’ll take that as a no.”

  “Be grateful, I’m a terrible cook. Once I’d leave this house you wouldn’t only have a fever, but also food poisoning.”

  “And then I’m unbelievable!” If I’m not mistaken, his cheeks become slightly green. “Who let you in the house?”

  “Your …”

  “J.D.! You’re awake.” Grace bursts into the room and jumps on the bed, her arms going around her brother’s neck. “I was so worried.”

  Clumsily, he pats her head. “I’m okay. Just the flu or something.”

  “I tried to wake you up, but you wouldn’t answer. You kept muttering something unintelligible and …”

  “It’s okay, Grace.” J.D. looks at me over his shoulder asking for advice, but the only thing I can offer him is a shrug of my shoulders. “You probably shouldn’t come too close. Maybe it’s contagious.”

  Her skinny arms tighten around him one more time before letting go.

  I get up and take the empty glass out of his hands. “I’ll go down and prepare you some soup. Did you eat something, Grace?”

  “No.”

  “I’ll call Chinese, that okay?” She nods her head and goes to the bowl with the water and towel.

  J.D.’s leaning against the headboard. I can see he’s trying hard to be normal for Grace, but his body is slightly shaking. I pull the sheets over his body and carefully tuck him in. Then I do same with a blanket that’s been at the end of his bed.

  When I’m about to leave to get some food, his fingers wrap around my wrist and pull me back. Even in his weakened state, his hold on me is strong.

  “Don’t leave,” his tired eyes plead with me.

  I watch his eyelids flutter closed but he’s resisting the sleep. He’s stubborn like that. With my free hand, I caress his scruff-covered cheek.

  “I’m not going anywhere.”

  Warm rays of early sun peek through the blinds and touch my skin. I should probably get up, but my eyes and my whole body has other plans.

  Stretching my tense muscles, I feel my arm bump into the soft flesh beside me. My eyes open instantly, the need to stay asleep long forgotten.

  Sienna.

  Sleeping in my bed.

  All the previous times we hooked up we ended in her bed. Now that I think about it, it probably has something to do with the fact that she wants the liberty of kicking the guy’s ass out of her apartment as soon as she’s through with him.

  Yet, one call from my worried sister and she’s here.

  I don’t understand women.

  More importantly, I don’t understand her.

  At all.

  Sienna’s lying on her stomach. Half of her body on the mattress, the other half draped over me. Her dark, curly hair spread over my green pillow is hiding her face. She’s wearing one of my old, worn shirts that is too big for her.

  Careful not to wake her, I tug the hair behind her ear. Her eyes are shut, her cheeks pink. That pouty, smart mouth of hers is slightly open as she breathes.

  There are dark circles under her eyes. It isn’t even strange she’s exhausted.

  Sienna heated the soup she brought for me to eat. Even went as far as to help me eat because my hands were shaking so badly. Then she forced a few slices of orange down my throat, telling me vitamin C will do me good although I was bitching the whole time.

  I hate being pampered. Especially by women. I’m not used to it. And now not only do I have one, but two of them in my house. Worrying about me and pissing me off with their blabbing.

  She finished in t
ime for their take-out to come, so both Grace and Sienna settled down on the floor in front of the bed and we all watched TV while they ate. Grace wanted to watch some stupid show with vampires. Of all things.

  Whenever this dark-haired dude showed on the screen she sighed. You know that type of lovesick fool kind of sigh. And he appeared a lot. Sienna seemed to know the show, too. I tried to suggest we could watch something else, but they both shot me identical, stern looks, so I simply gave up.

  Once the show was over and Grace went to bed, Sienna helped me go to the bathroom.

  My whole body was covered in sweat and I couldn’t take any more of this stinky feeling. Sienna wasn’t happy with leaving me alone in the bathroom, but there was no way I’d let her treat me like I’m on my deathbed. It was unnecessary and humiliating.

  She gave in, but I saw that she left the door ajar in case something happens.

  A lukewarm shower did me good. By getting rid of all the sweat and brushing my teeth I felt like a decent human being again. New, clean bed sheets weren’t bad, either.

  “You didn’t have to do it,” I say, looking at Sienna collecting the dirty sheets off the floor where she left them.

  “Get in the bed, smartass.” She points her finger at the bed where the covers are open, waiting for me to slide in. Although I was sleeping the whole day I’m still feeling tired. My muscles ache, and I’m feeling weak. “I didn’t ask for your opinion.”

  I salute her teasingly and get in the bed. When I turn around to look at her she’s at the door.

  “Where are you going?” My words come out rushed.

  Sienna looks at me over her shoulder.

  Thud.

  Thud-thud.

  Thud-thud-thud.

  My heart beats fast awaiting her answer.

  “I’ll take this down and put it in the washing machine.”

  “You don’t have to do it. Mrs. …”

  “It’s not a big deal,” Sienna interrupts me. “I have to clean some stuff in the kitchen. Then I’ll be up to check on you. Rest.”

  Then she goes down. I can hear her steps go down the stairs and move on the ground floor. The rest of the house is silent. The light of the TV is illuminating my bedroom, but once Grace went to bed I put it on mute.

  Leaning against the pillows I look at the ceiling and listen. Her steps. The sound of the washing machine working. Water. The chatter of dishes. Sienna’s slight humming to some melody only she knows.

  Peace washes over me and I close my eyes.

  I don’t remember dozing off. One moment my eyes are closed and the next I can feel Sienna’s hand touch my forehead and brush my damp hair away. I usually keep it military short, but lately, I’ve been feeling lazy so it has grown.

  My eyes snap open at her touch and my hand covers hers.

  “I didn’t mean to wake you,” she whispers. Is it because she doesn’t want to disturb my half sleep? Or is it because she’s afraid that if she speaks any louder she’ll break this bubble we built around us today?

  “I was awake.” My voice is raspy with sleep.

  “It seems like the fever went down, but I think you should take your medicine before falling asleep again.”

  I nod and pop myself on the elbow to take the glass and pills she offered me.

  When I finish, I lie back in the bed. Why am I this tired?

  “I should get going. It’s getting late and you should rest.”

  No matter how much my body wants to shut off and do as she said, the meaning behind her words won’t let me do it. “Stay.” I hold onto her hand again.

  Sienna stops and looks down at me.

  The darkness of the room and heaviness of my lids make her face seem blurry. “Don’t leave me like she did.”

  Fatigue is winning over my body and I feel my eyes shut.

  “Who …” Her words are as hushed as mine were. They stay hanging in the air between us. Then there is only silence.

  The last thing I remember is rustling of the sheets and a soft whisper. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

  Even through the delirium of last night, I can feel the whisper of her words next to my ear. Her hot breath touching my skin.

  Sheets rustle, and I feel her body steer next to mine.

  “Good morning.”

  Her eyes fly open when she hears my hushed words. Amber eyes twinkle with morning light entering the room as she takes me in.

  “Morning,” she murmurs softly. “You look good. How do you feel?”

  Soft palms touch my forehead and then both cheeks.

  “I feel fine. Thank you for coming last night,” I say, and then, swallowing hard add, “Thank you for staying.”

  “No problem.”

  Her words are followed by a long, uncomfortable pause.

  Now that I’m not sick anymore and I don’t need her, all that happened before comes back crashing down.

  I feel silly for acting so needy.

  “Sienna, about …”

  “It doesn’t matter, J.D.”

  “It matters. I wasn’t fair to you and I said some things I shouldn’t have said. I can be a real asshole sometimes. Because of that, I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “Grace, she’s amazing, you know?” Sienna’s lying on her back so I can only see her profile, but I see her nod her head once. “She’s smart and beautiful and so funny. She likes those stupid shows …”

  The words I say to her now are the same ones I said to my dad not so long ago.

  “They are not stupid,” she grumbles. Not even that can hide her smile.

  “And she likes to read some romance novels when she thinks I’m not paying attention. She adores dancing. Those few days a week she spends in the studio with you and your mom are the highlight of the week for her.”

  I swallow hard, thinking how I want to phrase my next words so that they don’t come out wrong. Again.

  “I almost didn’t know any of that.”

  “What do you mean?” Sienna rolls to her side, so we are face to face.

  “I didn’t know she existed until a few months ago. For most of my life, it was just my Dad and me.”

  “Ohh …” My words settle in her mind. “I’m so …”

  I shake it off. “You didn’t know. Nobody knows. I don’t want Grace to see the ugly side of the world I brought her into. Not yet.”

  “I understand.”

  She does, I know it. If somebody can understand what it’s like to be under the constant spotlight its Sienna.

  “What happened?”

  “My mom happened.” My voice is low and hard. I frown like always when I think about her. “She walked away on my dad and me when I was young. We never heard from her, until a few months back when she came and told me about my sister. She wanted to get money out of me.”

  “That’s awful!” Sienna sits straight in the bed, looking at me in astonishment.

  “Tell me something I don’t know,” I deadpan. “I just want Grace to feel happy and safe. You know what would happen if this got out to the press.”

  “You don’t have to tell me.” She rolls her eyes, her lips pressing into a tight line.

  “So are we …” I don’t get the chance to say anything else because there is a loud knock on my door, and not even a second passes before Grace’s dark head peeks inside.

  “J.D., are you … Oh, I’m so sorry!”

  Her head disappears faster than you can throw the football and the door shuts behind her. “I didn’t know Sienna was still here!”

  “We are decent!” Sienna shouts back and laughs at my stunned face.

  “I’ll wait for you in the kitchen.”

  “This was …,” I start, but can’t seem to find right words.

  “Yeah.” Sienna nods her head like she knows exactly what I’m talking about before bursting into laughter again.

  “You know what?”

  “Hmm?” I wiggle a little, snuggling more into his side. My eyes still glued to
the TV screen. I’m trying to understand all these Star Wars, Star Trek or whatever stuff that is on, but I don’t get it at all. I’m a girly girl and I love watching girly movies. This geeky, Sci-Fi thing—not so much.

  J.D.’s body is hot next to mine, and his body heat is keeping me warm. The early summer is nice and the temperatures are high during the day, but at night it still gets kind of chilly.

  It’s nice being like this. Close to each other. Enjoying the feel of another person next to you. I can’t remember the last time I did something like this.

  Fucking? I’m familiar with that.

  Cuddling? Not my thing.

  I guess even girly girls can be not so girly about some things.

  We’re sprawled on the couch in the living room. J.D.’s sitting with his legs propped on the coffee table with me snuggled next to him under the blanket.

  Grace was with us before, but an hour ago she went to her room to sleep because it was getting late.

  The other day we talked about movies and she told me she never saw Princess Diaries. I couldn’t believe somebody her age has never seen the movies so we agreed to watch it together. I haven’t expected J.D. to be home or join us, but he was and he did. Although, there was a lot of eye-rolling, sighing, murmuring to himself and bitching out loud on his part.

  Before we started he made me promise we’ll watch something manly with lots of blood and action afterward. So, we’re watching this thing. So not what I was expecting.

  J.D. nudges me with his elbow. I scowl and turn to look at him. “What?”

  “We have never been out on a date.”

  “A date?” I ask, confused, getting into sitting position.

  “Yes, we have never been on one.”

  “Where is this coming from?” I bit the inside of my cheek, nervousness washing over me.

  What did come over him? We never talk about going out together. Except for that one time, we went to the New Year’s Eve party. But it was a group thing. So that’s different.

  We usually meet and fuck each other’s brains out. It’s fast, sweaty, and amazing. And after our “make up”—that’s what I call the day he got sick and I spent the night—we’ve been doing a lot of it. I even keep to my part of the deal and don’t kick him out of my place, or run away from his bed afterward. So, in my opinion, it’s a win-win.

 

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