by Shae Scott
“They broke up,” I said evenly.
His smirk grew and he held up his bottle of beer to toast me. I laughed.
“So things are moving along then?” he asked.
I shrugged, “They’re going okay. She came out to the house for a bit and I showed her around.” He raised his brow questioningly. “I was fixing her car. Nothing happened.”
“Couldn’t close the deal, huh? Maybe you are getting a little rusty, or maybe you just weren’t any good. You probably did her a favor; giver her a shot at a real mean,” he teased.
“You’re an asshole,” I muttered.
“So are you.”
He had a point.
“So, what’s your next plan of attack, Romeo? Clean her house? Her pool? Maybe clean her gutters?” he asked, his eyes back to roaming the crowd.
I rolled my eyes. “It’s called being a nice guy. Maybe if you tried it you could take home something a little classier,” I pointed out.
He chuckled, “Class takes too much effort. I’m not interested in white picket fences.”
“You’re not even up for breakfast,” I laughed.
“Hey now, it’s not like I kick them out right away. Morning sex is hot. And shower sex. And kitchen table sex.”
His suggestion caused my mind to cloud with memories of Ally and me and I shifted uncomfortably in my seat.
Cooper sat up, his gaze zeroed in on someone across the room. “Although, classy could be fun,” he said under his breath. I followed his line of sight and laughed when I saw who he had zeroed in on. There, wearing a sharp red suit, with golden waves cascading down her back, was Cassie, Ally’s best friend.
“She won’t give you the time of day. You aren’t her type,” I laughed.
“How the fuck do you know what her type is?” he scoffed.
“Trust me. You’re wasting your time,” I said. I knew Coop would take it as a challenge, and honestly I was looking forward to watching this interaction. Plus, talking to Cassie was one step away from talking to Ally and I wasn’t going to argue with that. Maybe she’d give me some insight.
Cassie looked to be wrapping up a meeting. She shook hands with the man and woman she’d been sitting with and then started making her way across the bar towards the exit and right by our table.
Coop was just about to open his mouth with a line, which I’m sure would have melted the panties right off of her, when Cassie spotted me. “Owen? Oh wow. Hi,” she smiled, leaning over to give me a hug and thus giving Cooper an eyeful of her cleavage and probably a half chub. Cassie was beautiful. So I didn’t fault him.
“Hey Cass,” I said. Coop glared at me, realizing I’d been holding out on him.
“I heard you were back in town. I’m surprised. Didn’t think you’d ever leave Chicago,” she said. I was just thankful she was being friendly to me and not kicking me in the balls for hurting Ally. I took it as a positive sign. Maybe I was winning Ally back a little after all if her friend was willing to give me a pass.
“I needed to be here,” I said simply, hoping that she heard the meaning behind it. She bit back a smile and I felt a flicker of hope that maybe she was on my side.
“I’m Cooper,” Coop said, standing and offering his hand, unable to stay quiet any longer.
Cassie turned to him, her hair flipping off her shoulder as she turned. She gave him a once over, not even trying to hide it. She waited a full beat before extending her hand out, “Cassie,” she smiled. Cooper gave her his best smile, but I could see that Cassie had rattled him a little. It was hilarious to watch.
“So how do you know Owen?” Coop asked. AKA…have you been anywhere near his dick?
“Ally Montgomery is my best friend,” she said. I watched Coop’s eyes furrow until the name registered.
“Oh. And yet you haven’t ripped our friend Owen’s balls off yet,” Coop smiled. Asshole.
Cassie smiled. “Not yet. I heard a rumor he was changing his ways. I think I’ll wait and see how that plays out first,” she said, throwing me a smile. Knowing that she was potentially on my side was more than enough to make me want to push forward with my plans.
“Thanks, Cass.” I said quietly.
“Don’t make me regret it,’ she returned.
“Do you want to join us for a drink,” Cooper asked.
“I wish I could. But I’m leaving bright and early for a business trip. So I need to get home. It was nice meeting you though, Cooper? Right?”
I laughed, because I knew she remembered his name. She was playing with him, like a cat with a mouse. It was priceless.
He gave her one of those cocky head nods. It was like a train wreck. Dear God, please tell me I never looked like that. How did I ever get laid?
“Well, maybe next time. You boys have fun.” And she was off, leaving a hint of expensive perfume in her absence. Cooper watched her go and then sunk back into his seat.
“Fuck, that girl is hot,” he said, downing what was left of his beer.
“And clearly impressed with you. I told you, you aren’t her type,” I laughed.
“Oh yeah? And who is her type?”
“She likes the clean cut pretty boy type. Boring, I think is what Ally called it,” I said.
“A girl like that does not need boring. Maybe she just hasn’t had the pleasure of a real man. I could show her. You gotta get back with Ally, dude. I need an in.”
“Oh so now, you need my help?” I laughed.
“You are supposed to be my wingman. So wing,” he said.
“I’ll see what I can do.”
14
Ally
Trains. One after another were barreling through my skull. If I had to guess, I’d say that each one had run me over in my sleep. My entire body ached, even the hair on my arms hurt. It was times like these when I wondered if living alone was the best decision. I could die here and no one would know. With my behavior over the last few months it wouldn’t surprise me if it took days for anyone to even realize that I was gone. Cassie might have found me, but she was on a business trip. I was on my own. Maybe they would find me face down in the hallway. If I had more energy I’d put on cuter pajamas just in case.
It had to be the flu. There was no other explanation for this torture. I didn’t want to move or even open my eyes. I just wanted to lay still and hope for sleep. Funny thing about the flu…it doesn’t like sleep. It wants you awake and fully aware of every horrible symptom.
I was only mildly aware of time passing. It was a lot like being on some crazy head trip. At one point I swear I saw a monkey in my hallway. He laughed at me, but I’m sure the image of me face down on the couch in a pool of my own spit was reason enough to laugh. So I wasn’t all that surprised when I heard my front door open and the sound of a familiar voice headed to the living room.
“Kit Kat? Where are you?” He sounded far away. Maybe he came to get the monkey. I looked up and saw him with an arm full of bags and a handful of flowers. Daisies. Pretty.
“Wow, you look awful,” he said.
“Thank you,” I said. I think it came out like a grunt instead of actual words. Owen put down the bags on the counter and came to the couch. I turned on my side and tried to wipe the dried spit off of my chin.
He sat down on the edge of the couch and rested the back of his hand on my cheek before moving it to my forehead. “You’re burning up. Have you taken your temp lately?” he asked. I looked at him blankly. No I hadn’t taken my temp. I hadn’t moved from this spot in hours. Or days. I didn’t even know what day it was. “Have you had anything to drink?”
Why was he asking me so many questions? Just grab the monkey and be on your way. I watched him get up and wondered if I’d managed to say that last part out loud. He returned a few moments later with a glass of Gatorade and a thermometer. “First, we’ll take your temp,” he said. He held out the thermometer and I opened my mouth to place it under my tongue. I shut my eyes against the headache, drifting in that place just before sleep. The beeping of the ther
mometer pulled me back and I opened my eyes as Owen took it and looked down at the reading.
“102,” he scowled as he read the number. He looked cute when he was all concerned. “Okay, I am going to need you to sit up a little and drink something for me. You are probably dehydrated. We have to get you fluids.” He helped me up and I leaned back on the pillows. When I was settled he handed me the glass, but kept his hands on it to keep me from dropping it. He encouraged me like I was a small child. I let him. Honestly, I felt like a small child at the moment. After I’d taken a few drinks, he handed me two pills and instructed me to take them. I did as I was told. I wasn’t up much for arguing or even questioning what he was giving me.
“Why don’t we get you into bed?”
I nodded. My bed sounded better. I’d been too weak to try and make the trek. It was only a second before I felt myself being lifted into the air. I rested my head against him. He smelled familiar. I’d missed it, being this close to him and having that scent envelope me. It had always made me feel safe, and strangely it had the same effect on me now.
He placed me down on the bed gently and then pulled the covers up against me. “I’m going to call the doctor. We may have to take you in,” he said, his eyes still set with concern.
“I’m fine,” I croaked.
“Don’t be tough,” he smiled. I tried to smile back, but my mouth wasn’t working. “Lie back and get some rest. I’m going to call the doctor and find out what we need to do to get you better. I’ll be back in a few minutes. Try and sleep.” He ran his hand across my cheek before leaving the room.
I closed my eyes, thankful to be in my soft bed again. It was much better than the couch and the soft blankets were cozy. I finally felt the tugs of the sleep that had evaded me. I welcomed it, the quiet oblivion. Maybe when I woke up things would be normal again. I just needed to sleep this off.
I don’t know how long I slept, but when I opened my eyes the room was dark, except for the lamp in the corner casting shadows across the wall. I still felt weak and dizzy and my skin was covered in a sheen of sweat. My fever must be breaking. It made a world of difference. I glanced around the room trying to get my bearings. My heart jumped when I saw Owen in the armchair across the room. His feet were stretched out in front of him, his arms crossed over his chest and his head laid back against the back of the chair, mouth hanging open. He was passed out asleep and breathing deeply.
He looked rumpled and very uncomfortable. And handsome. He looked handsome. What was he doing here? How did he get in? I was confused. I kind of remembered him coming in and putting me to bed, but it had felt more like a dream.
My throat was parched. There was a glass of water on my nightstand, next to a vase of daisies. I smiled and looked back at the sleeping man across the room. I had no idea why he was here, or how long he’d been here, but I couldn’t deny that there was part of me that was glad. I would examine that more later. First, I had to pee.
I pushed the covers back and put my feet on the ground. Just that small movement had me feeling dizzy. I was weaker than I’d expected. I took a second before pushing myself to my feet.
“Whoa, what are you doing? Get back in bed.”
I looked up surprised to see Owen on his feet and rushing towards me. He had his hands on my arms, supporting me in an instant. “I’m fine. I just got up too fast,” I said.
“Why are you even getting up? What do you need? I will get it,” he said.
“Um, I have to pee. You can’t help me with that,” I said. His mouth quirked up amused.
“Oh. Well, I can at least help you get there. Want me to carry you?” he asked. He was serious. I rolled my eyes.
“No. I can make it.” I said.
“I’m still helping,” he said, no room for argument. I didn’t bother to try. I let him lead me across the room. “I’ll wait out here. If you need me just holler,” he said. He looked reluctant to let me go. I nodded before shutting the door in his face. Weak or not there was no way I was letting him rescue me from the toilet.
Washing my hands I took a moment to study my reflection. It was rough, but I had no energy to take a shower. I didn’t have the luxury to care at the moment. I opened the door and nearly laughed at the frantic look in Owen’s eyes.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Relax. I’m fine. Help me back to bed?” I asked. I saw the relief flash in his eyes as he wrapped an arm around me in support. I leaned into him, grateful for the crutch. I really was feeling pretty weak. We made it back to the bed and Owen moved the covers back.
“Do you want to sleep more or sit up for a bit?” he asked.
“Sit, I think.”
He nodded and promptly shifted the pillows to make me a comfortable backdrop. I crawled in bed and settled back as he moved the blankets up around me. He was so focused.
“Why are you here?” I asked. His gaze lifted to meet mine.
“You’re sick. I want to take care of you,” he said simply. His smile was almost shy as he turned to take the glass from the nightstand. “I’m going to get you something to drink. Do you think you could eat some soup? It might make you feel better,” he offered.
I shrugged. I was still processing his words as he moved to the bedroom door. He was here to take care of me. I wasn’t sure what to think about that. For a moment I thought that I should kick him out, but the truth was that I was really glad that he was here. Maybe that wasn’t the wisest feeling to have, but it was a real one and that’s really all I had the energy to deal with right now.
I settled back into the pillows. Luckily, most of the fog was gone. I still felt like death’s younger sister, but at least there were no zoo animals running around the house now. That made a difference. I grabbed my phone on the nightstand and saw that I had three missed calls from Cassie, one from Granny and a handful of texts waiting on me. I didn’t answer any of them. It was 11 at night, and it was Thursday. I’d been to work on Monday…but that was as far back as I remembered. Shit…had I called work? I couldn’t remember. I scrambled through my email, looking for something that would clue me into what I had missed.
“What’s wrong?” Owen asked as he came back into the room. He was carrying a tray topped with a bowl of soup, a glass of something and a handful of pills.
“It’s Thursday night. I missed a lot of work,” I said, staring up at him. I was feeling a bit panicked. It’s odd not being able to place your days.
“They know that you’re sick. You called them. Plus, I’ve talked to Cassie. It’s all been taken care of. Just relax and rest. You can worry about work when you get better.” He set the tray down on the night stand.
“You talked to Cassie?” I asked. This news shocked me. What was Cassie doing talking to Owen? What had they talked about? Did she know that he was here in my house? Had she sent him?
“I did.” That’s all he offered me. I chewed my lip thoughtfully. “Now, are you ready to try and eat something?” He sat on the bedside and seemed to study me.
“I’ll try,” I agreed. Maybe it would help me feel better. “Take these first,” he said, offering me up the pills he’d brought. I took them dutifully and then sat back as he arranged the tray for me.
“Thank you,” I said softy. He gave me a smile and then got up from the bed. I watched as he moved back to the chair he’d been sleeping in earlier.
“How long have you been here?” I asked, unable to hold my curiosity any longer.
He rubbed his neck and stretched. That chair had not done him any favors. “I got here on Wednesday morning,” he said simply. Wow. He’d been here that long.
“How did you know I was sick?” I asked.
His brow furrowed. “How about you eat while I answer all of your questions?” he suggested. I nodded, picking up my spoon and dipping it into the steaming bowl of chicken soup. I blew on the liquid a little before placing the spoon in my mouth. The hot broth hit my taste buds and reminded me that I was indeed very hungry. I looked up to see Owen smile app
rovingly.
“I was talking to Gran. She told me that she’d called and you told her you were feeling pretty ill. She was worried about you,” he said. I didn’t remember talking to Granny at all. “When I heard you were sick I came over. I didn’t want you to be alone,” he said.
I ate more soup and thought about that a little more.
“You were here the whole time?” I asked. Surely he had left for work.
“Yep. I had the medicine delivered. You were kind of a mess,” he chuckled.
“How did you get in?” I asked suddenly.
He grinned, a little sheepish, and shrugged. “I still have my key.”
“Oh.” I should probably ask for that back. But not now. Now he was here helping me. And I would appreciate that. I watched him, his face weary as he sat in the chair, his elbows rested on his knees. “That chair looks very uncomfortable. You know there is a guest room,” I offered.
He shrugged again. “I know. I just didn’t want to be far away in case you needed me.” Each answer he gave surprised me, hitting me square in the heart.
“I’m better now. You don’t have to stay in here with me. Or, I mean you can go home if you want,” I looked down at my soup, fighting against a wave of disappointment that he might leave. Where was that coming from?
“I’ll stay here until you are well. I might take you up on the spare room now that you aren’t in the fits of fever, but I still want to be close by. I don’t like the idea of you being alone here when you’re sick. I’ll just worry if I’m not here,” he admitted.
“Okay. If you’re sure. I don’t want you to feel obligated.” I said.
His warm smile set me at ease. “I’m sure. Now finish your soup,”
The next morning I woke up feeling weak, but better. I knew I was on the mend because all I could think about was taking a shower. Owen came strolling into the bedroom not long after I’d woken. He looked refreshed, the bed having done wonders.