Page 134 of Sweetheart

Would he run away if I said that to him?

Probably.

"Don't you want to know what I brought you?" he said.

"You mean besides your stunning self," I replied.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Now, I know you're sick."

"That is demonstrably provable by the tissues surrounding my bed."

"At least nothing's wrong with your nerdy brain."

"Hey, I like nerds."

"I do too," he said, throwing me a wink, and then he handed me a bag.

"What's in here?" I asked.

"Open it and see."

Glancing inside, I blinked. "Grilled cheese and ginger ale?" I said.

"And Chinese and ice cream," he finished.

As I looked up, my eyes were watery, but if pressed, I'd blame it on the sickness.

"All your favorites." Sam began to look uncomfortable as I swallowed. "I figured you could use a pick-me-up."

You are the pick-me-up, I thought.

"What?" Sam said with a laugh.

Shoot, I guess I said that out loud.

"Yes, and you're still talking. Want meto come in and sit with you for a while?"

I opened my mouth to reply.

Yes, please stay.

No, I don't want to get you sick too.

"You can do what you want," I said finally.

Sam threw his legs over the windowsill and into my room. "Then I'll stay," he said, standing to his full height. For whatever reason, seeing him in myspace, being in such close proximity to him, made my pulse speed up.

"I like your room, Kent."

"I like you in it," I mumbled and didn't realize I'd spoken the words until he chuckled.

"You really have to work on that," he said.

"I—"

But before I could finish that sentence, there was a knock at my bedroom door. My dad's voice filtered in a second later.

"Hey, Scarlett," he said. "I just wanted to check on you and see how you're feeling."

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