Page 84 of Mr. Red

I think about getting up, but I don’t want to move. My body is aching. Moving equals death. The key from under the mat slides into the lock, then he bursts through the door.

He stands over me, huffing. “Are you okay?”

“Oh, hey. Didn’t hear you,” I mumble.

“You aren’t funny. You don’t look well. I went to the gym to see if you wanted to have lunch together, and they told me you called out. Why didn’t you tell me?” He stands with his hands on his hips. His questioning attitude isn’t helping my head. I cover my face with my arms as a defense mechanism against the loud noises.

“I can take care of myself.” Talking hurts. “I’ve been doing it for years.”

A gust from his deep breath hits my skin. “I’m here. I’ll take care of you.”

“Matt, I’m fine. I just need to rest.” I yawn.

“Do you need anything?”

“Yes. Sleep.”

I fall asleep until he moves my hair out of my face and whispers, “Sweetheart.”

“Matt, you shouldn’t be taking care of me. You’re going to get sick too.”

He picks me up bridal style. I rest my head against his chest, snuggling into him. The pressure on my head and his sandalwood smell are comforting.

“Don’t worry about me. I don’t get sick.”

Typical macho man answer. I’d roll my eyes butthey’re already closed.

He pulls the blanket over me in bed. It’s much comfier than my couch. I snuggle into my pillow. He kisses my forehead as I fall back to sleep, feeling really blessed to have someone here with me. Maybe it is okay to let people help you every now and then.

Then the little voice whispers in my head,you can’t trust someone who is going to leave.

Chapter 47

Matt

If I wasn’t sure about Scarlett before, I’m sure now. Coming over to a house in the middle of the day to take care of someone is different. Not knowing if she was okay or not, freaked me out. With her in my sight I can get my work done.

A snore sounds from down the hall; a first for her. Her nose must be stuffed up. It’s quiet for too long, so I go to her room to check on her.

“Hey,” she says, sitting up and looking around. She notices the single red rose on her nightstand and smiles.

“How you feeling?” I keep my hands in my pockets and lean against the doorframe.

“My headache is gone, thank goodness. Thanks for the pick-me-up.” She points to the flower.

I respond with a nod.

She takes her time waking up and then goes to the restroom. My eyes follow her every move.

She returns from the restroom, and I ask, “You hungry?”

“Yes! Mac and cheese!”

“Wait. You want macaroni and cheese?” I point at her. “I never knew you liked such a gourmet dish.”

She glares at me. “You aren’t funny. Have you been here the entire time?” she asks as we walk into her livingarea. Then she sees my makeshift desk on her bar top. She turns back, looking confused.

“I couldn’t leave you alone.” My shoulders lift a little. “It sucks being alone when you don’t feel well.”

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