Page 48 of Sweet Chaos
“Better?” I asked a little while later when her teeth had stopped chattering.
“Mmm hmm.”
So, it was the first time I slept with Scarlett Woods, we did not have sex or do anything even remotely sexual.
During the night, she drifted in and out of a semi-lucid state and confided things that I was sure she wouldn’t have if she hadn’t been out of her mind with a fever of 102. I knew it was 102 because I used the digital thermometer I found in the bathroom cabinet to check. Every hour. On the hour. Like a mother hen.
I plied her with water and some of that beef broth which tasted better than it sounded, and I listened to her ramblings. She was cute and funny and honest, and she made me wish for something I’d never wanted before. To be the hero in someone’s fairy tale instead of the villain.
Because Scarlett Woods confessed that she’d been in love with me ever since she was eleven years old and I climbed into her bedroom window.
17
Scarlett
There was a soft knock on my bedroom door and then it opened, light spilling into my dark room from the hallway. Nic gave me a big smile and flicked on my table lamp. I blinked a few times, trying to accustom my eyes to the light as she set a steaming mug of something on my bedside table.
“How are you feeling?” she asked, sitting on the edge of my bed. She smelled like grapefruit shower gel, her wet hair pulled back in a sleek ponytail, in terrycloth shorts and an oversized Lakers sweatshirt that used to be Aaron’s.
I propped up the pillows against my headboard and sat up. Just that simple act made me dizzy and gave me a coughing fit.
Stupid cold. It had started with a sore throat and a cough on Sunday. When I woke up Monday morning, I was achy all over and even my eyeballs had hurt. “Like a limp noodle.”
“I’m not surprised. Drink your broth.”
“Broth?” I reached for the mug and wrapped my hands around it, bringing it up to my nose for a sniff. “What is this?” I asked, pulling a face.
“Just drink it. It’s good for you. Trust me.”
“Says the girl who loves anchovies.” I took a sip. It wasn’t too terrible, but I wouldn’t exactly be clamoring for more.
“Well?” she asked, gesturing to my mug.
“Not bad.” I took another sip to placate her. “Mmm. Yum.”
She laughed, and crawled up the bed, sitting next to me with her back against the headboard, her enviably long legs crossed at the ankles.
“How long have I been asleep?” I glanced out the window. It was dark. Like middle-of-the-night dark.
“About twenty-four hours, give or take.”
My eyes widened. “What?!” I scrunched my nose. “No wonder I smell like I just rolled out of a dumpster.”
“Yeah.” She pinched the end of her nose. “You smell, babe.”
Couldn’t be insulted when she was just speaking the truth. “What about work?”
“I called in sick for you. Shane said to take as long as you need. Remy called to make sure you were okay.”
Knowing that Shane and Remy had been informed, I relaxed a little and drank my broth. We were quiet, but she had a big smile on her face. After eight years of friendship, I knew how to read her. She was bursting to tell me something big. I smacked her arm. “Oh my God. Did you and Cruz elope?”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s only been one day, not ten years, Rip Van Winkle. But guess who nursed you back to health?” She looked smug. Therefore, untrustworthy.
“You?” I asked hopefully. Please let it be Nic.
Nic shook her head, her smile wide.Don’t say it, don’t say it, don’t say it. “Dylan.”
She said it. With a groan, I sagged back against my pillows. I vaguely remembered him being here, but I thought it had been a dream. Last night I’d had a lot of freaky weird dreams and at one point, a giant hot dog was chasing me down the street. I didn’t even want to analyze that one. “Really? Dylan saw me like this?” I asked with dismay.
