Page 78 of Ruin Me With Lies
I’m nodding before the question is fully out of her mouth.“Yes, please.”
Cora laughs with her whole body, crow’s feet out in full force.I love it.
“How’s Gio doing?”
“He’s been sleeping a lot,” she says.“The fever is still high, but he’s awake now.He’s down in the entertainment room.”
“Thanks.I’ll be back for my paella soon.”
I trek downstairs and find Gio bundled up under a thick blanket in one of the oversized recliners, cartoons playing on the big screen.
“My delinquent nurse is finally here,” he croaks.
“Sorry.”I press the back of my hand to his forehead.“Still roasting.”
“Yet I feel so cold.”He gives me sad puppy-dog eyes.“Feel sorry for me, pretty eyes.”
I laugh.“Aw, you poor thing.”
“Stay.Watch TV with me.”
“Of course.But first, take off your shirt.”
“Ooh.Frisky.”He waggles his brows at me, then weakly shrugs off the blanket and pulls his shirt over his head.“Have your way with me, naughty nurse.”
Pulling out a small bottle from my pocket, I shift to a perch on the arm of the recliner.“This is shilling oil.My secret remedy for, well, everything.”I twist off the cap.“The smell is intense, and it will burn a little, but it works like a charm.”
I pour a few drops onto his upper chest and begin rubbing it in.
“Ooofh, that’s potent,” he mutters, wincing and grinning at once.
Laughing at him, I add a little more, massaging it up to his neck, then wave my oiled fingers under his nose.“Inhale.”
He does, no questions asked, smiling up at me the whole time.
When I’m done, I screw the cap back on and tuck the bottle into the cupholder.“Keep it.Use it.”
“Will you come rub more on me again?”he asks with lidded eyes.
“Call me when you need me.”I plop into the recliner beside his.“Powerpuff Girls, huh?That’s what does it for you?”
With a sicky grin, dimples popping, he cloaks himself in his blanket again.“Every time.”
He looks so boyishly human like this.Not the “cruel third twin” he’s known to be.Right now, he’s just Gio.And something rustles in my chest at the thought that I could’ve lost him today.That I might never have gotten to share this warm, quiet moment with him.
“I got a message for you today,” I say.
“From who?”
“The Big Guy.”
He scoffs.“Highly doubt it.”
“He wanted you to know that today…you were His favorite.”
At that, his eyes find mine.Something ghosts across his face.Subtle, soft, dawning.And somehow, in the silence between us, as we hold each other’s gaze, he seems to understand.
With a slow, appreciative nod, he whispers, “Tell Him thanks for thinking of me.”
