Page 51 of The Mouse and the Maestro

Now it was his turn to crank up the AC and point it at his face. He felt hot and cold all at once. When was the last time he’d thrown up? He couldn’t remember, it had been so long. He had a cast-iron stomach, not prone to nausea or illness. But not now. Right now his stomach felt like a tiny airplane in high turbulence. Jane groaned, pressing her hand to her stomach.

“Can you pull over,” she moaned.

Blue yanked the car to the side of the road, tossed it into park, and they both dashed out, getting simultaneously sick a yard away from each other on the side of the road. Thankfully they were both too immersed in their own misery to be grossed out by each other.

“Oh,” Blue moaned, and Jane followed suit. They stumbled back to the car and leaned against it, too sick and weak to take the necessary steps to get back inside.

“Can you drive home?” Jane whispered. She was sprawled haphazardly on the car, her pale face pressed to the hood.

“It’s only a few blocks,” Blue said. He was in nearly the same position, only his face was pressed to the car’s top, given his greater height advantage. The cool of the metal felt heavenly beneath his sweaty, overheated face.

“Can you?” she pressed.

“I honestly don’t know,” Blue said. “I’m going to need a minute.”

“Blue,” Jane groaned, pressing her hand to her stomach.

“Mm,” he said, doing the same to his abdomen.

“You are never allowed to pick the restaurant again,” she said.

“Agreed,” he murmured before they ran to two new spots and got sick again.

Chapter 23

No one was awake by the time they made it home, but Blue woke his mother. What was the advantage of being home if his mommy didn’t take care of them? And take care of them she did, setting them up at opposite ends of the couch with lined trash cans, sparkly lemon-lime soda, peppermints, and cool wash cloths for their foreheads. After taking turns in the bathroom a few more times, they finally stopped getting sick. They were even able to drink some of the soda and suck on the mints they’d been provided. Jane wanted to brush her teeth, but she was too weak. Eventually—wrung out, wasted, exhausted—they fell asleep.

Jane woke a few hours later, alarmed and confused. Where was she? She sat up, caught sight of Blue at the other end of the sofa, and it all came crashing back. She had gotten sick in front of a near stranger, one she found intensely attractive, had been tended to by his mother. Her stomach still felt weak and queasy, but more from lack of food than lingering illness. She sipped the lukewarm, now-flat soda and lay back down. She thought Blue was still asleep, but a moment later, he spoke.

“How do you feel?” he whispered.

“About as well as you do, I’d imagine,” she said. The food poisoning had been brutal. “Sorry I shoved you out of my way that last trip to the bathroom.”

“I had it coming, I was lingering,” he said, pinching her toe. They shared a smile. “Sorry I took you on a date that almost killed you in multiple ways.”

“Was that actually a date?” she asked.

“It was supposed to be,” he said.

“At least it was memorable. I’ve never been on a date that started with a workout and charley horses, got shot at in the middle, and ended with food poisoning. Other guys are going to have a lot to live up to after this.”

He tossed aside the blanket, crawled to her end of the couch, and forced her to make room for him as he took her in his arms. “I don’t want there to be other guys, Jane.”

She rested her head on his chest, returning his embrace. “I think we’ve been over this already.”

“I don’t like the conclusion we determined,” Blue said.

“Tell me what’s changed,” Jane replied. “Can you live with not knowing things about me, secrets about my past and present?”

“Why did you leave the table again before the waitress arrived?” he blurted.

“To create a diversion to poison you. But clearly I messed it up and dosed both of us instead,” Jane said.

He squeezed her. “The truth.”

“Because ordering food at restaurants sends me into a panic spiral. The only thing worse for my social anxiety is making me talk on the phone or be in the spotlight in front of a large group of strangers,” Jane said.

“Why didn’t you tell me that instead of disappearing?” he asked.

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