Page 41 of Someone Just Like You

I stared into the yellowish broth filled with carrots, noodles, and two large matzo balls. “Too bad my appetite is MIA.” I sniffled.

“Doesn’t matter. You need liquids.” He twisted his face. “I sound like our moms.”

“Are you comfortable kneeling on the floor like that? I can make room for you on the couch. Chair?”

He waved off the suggestion. “Remember when we had the chicken pox at the same time and they made us quarantine together?”

I frowned. “I recall you tossing cotton balls soaked with calamine lotion at me in rapid succession.”

“Yeah, sorry about that.”

“No, you’re not.”

He grinned. “You’re right.”

My belly fluttered. His smile was so…so…

He waved his spoon at me. “Eat.”

I nodded. “Okay.” My stomach was so empty, I could actually feel the soup travel down my esophagus.

“How do you think you caught this bug?”

I took another spoonful of soup and curled back under the blanket. “I’m using that rebellious streak you know so well and working overtime behind my manager’s back. Like you suggested.” Ordinarily, admitting I’d taken advice from Jude was at the bottom of my to-do list (more like off the page) but I was too weary to take it back now.

Jude froze with his spoon an inch from his lips. “I don’t recall telling you to work yourself sick…not exactly my style.” He stood and stretched, his shirt riding up to expose a sliver of his flat belly and a trail of dark hair leading into his jeans.

I gulped, then looked away as he brought his empty bowl to the kitchen. My lightheadedness ticked up a notch, and I didn’t want to think about why.

Over the sound of running water, I said, “I want to do workmyway without getting in trouble with management. I’d hate to disappoint my parents again.”

The water was turned off, and he returned to the living room. “I get that.”

“You do?”

“I crushed my dad’s dream of his son playing major league baseball.”

It was like someone plunged a needle into my heart. “I’m sorry.” I was tempted to ask if it washisdream too—still—or if he’d move on, but I couldn’t get the words out. Whether it was due to my fever or a desire to hold on to his earlier answer, that he had no regrets about the way things had worked out, I was too weak to contemplate.

“The only thing you should apologize for is the way you smell. Please take a shower. I’ll stick around in case you faint.”

“If you have to rescue me, just cover your eyes!” My already clammy skin heated up like my fever had caught a fever, and I poured my concentration into standing up to avoid looking at him.

“You need help?” He extended his hand.

I took it and let him pull me up. We stood too close for comfort, but I didn’t drop his hand. It was soft but not wimpy.Stop analyzing his fingers, weirdo!“Your eyes are blue.”

“They’re actually hazel with blue flecks.”

“All this time, I thought they were brown,” I whispered.

“You never looked hard enough.” He scratched his neck.

I followed the path of his fingers with my eyes and was hit with an impulse to nibble on the trail of skin between his ear and collarbone. The flu had turned me into a vampire.Lovely.

He dropped my hand and pushed me toward the bathroom. “Shower time.”

Taking a shower was some hard work. My legs were unsteady from lack of use, and my stomach heaved. After washing and conditioning my hair, I bent down in the tub and closed my eyes, letting the water rush down on me.Just for a second.This was nice.

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