Page 25 of The Sweetest Risk

She punches my arm and then immediately shakes her hand off. When will she ever learn? “Ow, dammit. Is this your idea of making me feel better? You are doing a hell of a job, Hot Shot.”

I thought that Brooke’s regular voice was the best thing I’ve ever heard. Brooke’s raspy sick voice is making a case against that fact.

“Oh so you’re saying you don’t want this delicious ramen? Or the Vicks vapor rub? Or the boxes of Kleenex, which by the look of your couch and coffee table, you are running out of? Or the extra box of tea that I bought you, with some local honey?” I raise an eyebrow and look down at the cutest girl I’ve ever known.

“I didn’t say that.” She takes out large soup bowls and assembles her ramen. She swipes the fork from my hand and mixes her food around. She huffs as she offers me a bowl so I can do the same thing. Then in her very raspy voice, she says, “Thank you, again.”

“You’re welcome.”

Brooke adjusts the blanket so it covers the top of her head, causing her to look like a shepherd. She slowly makes her way back to her living room and places her giant bowl of ramen on the coffee table. I join her on the ground and I am about to dig in when I notice that Brooke looks like she is about to throw up.

“What’s wrong? Do I need to go get a trash can?”

“I am scared to eat this,” she says plainly.

“Why? I got the right one, didn’t I?” I thought she loved this one specifically. Brooke went to this restaurant so much that she was considered a regular. Knowing this information, I described what Brooke looked like, even went so far as showing the waitress a picture, and asked what she normally gets. They recognized her immediately and knew exactly what she wanted.

“Yes. I am just scared that you put something in it.”

“Brooke…”

“What? What if you thought: Hey this is the perfect opportunity to get rid of Brooke for good. She’s sick and people would never suspect a poisoning or maybe they would just add it up to food poisoning going terribly wrong. Also, the other night was strategically planned out. I was playing mind games with her. Her guard is down now that we basically slept togetherwithout actually sleeping together, she won’t think anything of it. I have her right where I want her. She’ll trust that I am being a good guy, or she’ll suspect that something is off and I’ll just lie and say that her ramen isn’t poisoned but it totally is.” She shoots daggers in my direction.

I laugh so hard it makes my stomach hurt and tears start coming out of my eyes.

“What?” she asks, clearly annoyed by my reaction.

“You are spiraling. I am not going to poison you. I did nothing to your ramen. You are being paranoid.”

“Am I?” She stirs the ramen, clearly starving. I wonder when she ate last.

“Yes, you goof. Look, I’m eating some too, okay? It can’t be poisoned. Now, just shut up and eat your ramen. The broth will help.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.” She blows on the ramen and takes a bite. Relief sets in on her face.

“It tastes normal.”

“See, I told you. God you are fucking stubborn.”

“No I’m not. You are.” She scowls. I shake my head. This woman drives me insane and yet I can’t get her out of my head. She sniffles again. I get up and grab the box of tissues I got for her earlier and open it.

I hand her a new tissue. “Here Cupcake.”

She snatches the tissue out of my hand and quickly wipes her nose. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

“I’m always nice to you. You’re just so used to hating me that you can’t see that I am actually a nice person.”

“If that’s your story, Hot Shot.” She sniffles. “You hate me, too.”

I need to save face right now. It’s not time for her to really know how I feel. I don’t want to scare her off or get kicked out of her apartment. I also don’t want Bradley to find out and kickmy ass. Or at least attempt to kiss my ass. “Right.” I go back to my ramen and actively divert my attention to her TV. “So, who is your favorite character?”

Now that she has some sort of sustenance in her system, she is thankfully distracted and her guard is lowering little by little. “Probably Monica. Although I die for Rachel’s hair and fashion. If I ever win the lottery, I would buy her entire wardrobe. Or at least a wardrobe that looks similar.”

“I don’t think she wears nearly enough pink to pass for your wardrobe, Cupcake.”

She rolls her eyes then focuses back on the screen. It’s the Thanksgiving episode where they play football and try to win the Geller Cup. “Chandler’s mine.”

She cocks her eyebrow, “You watchFriends?”

---