Page 66 of The Infiniteness of Yesterday
“I have to go to work,” I protest.
“I called them too and let them know you have a bug and can’t come in.”
“But—”
“No buts.” He shakes his head sternly. “I wish I could stay with you today, but I just can’t. Keep your phone close. I’m going to check on you when I can.”
“M’kay,” I hum.
“There’s water on your nightstand, Tylenol, and toast if you think you can eat something. I love you.” He presses a kiss to my forehead. “If I can leave early I will.”
I reach for his hand and give it a squeeze. “Thank you.”
“Always.” He squeezes back.
The bedroom door clicks softly shut behind him and I drift off to sleep once more.
I stumble out of my bed and open the door, trying to make it to the bathroom across the hall before I puke my guts up, but as luck would I have it I only make it to the sink instead of the toilet.
“Hey,” a soft voice croons. Fingers gather my hair up into a ponytail while more fingers rub my neck. I open my eyes to look in the mirror as I turn the sink on to rinse the mess out and I’m shocked to find Spencer behind me not Jameson. Am I dreaming? Hallucinating?
“What are you doing here?” I ask, reaching for one of the paper cups I keep by the sink for Roe because I can’t trust her with a glass one. I fill it with water and swish the liquid around my mouth before spitting.
“You’re sick.” He lets my hair go and I reach for my toothbrush. “You were out of it when I got Roe, so I came back. I didn’t think you should be alone.”
A part of me thinks it’s sweet that he would do that, the other part of me is annoyed.
“I’m not your responsibility.”
He narrows his eyes on me where he watches me in the mirror. I work the toothbrush vigorously on my teeth. If I’m notcareful I’ll have my gums bleeding, but the pain might be worth the distraction.
“Why do you do that?” he asks, voice hard.
I spit out my toothpaste and rinse against with water. “Do what?”
“Always try to push me away. I’m just trying to help you out. Is that really so wrong?”
Doesn’t he get it? No matter what, my feelings for him are always going to be complicated. Keeping him at a distance is the safest for everyone.
“I don’t know,” I say instead.
He steps out of my way so I can leave the bathroom. I need to disinfect the sink, but it’ll have to wait. I need to lie back down. Beside the bed is the water Jameson left for me, along with the Tylenol and untouched toast.
“Is there something I can get you?” Spencer asks from the doorway, and he sounds desperate to help me. It makes me annoyed at myself for being short with him.
“There should be ginger ale in the refrigerator. I’ll have some of that.” I always try to keep some on hand if Monroe gets sick.
He’s gone in a flash.
He returns less than a minute later with a can of the stuff and a bendy straw. If I didn’t feel like a beat-up piñata I might smile.
“Thank you.” I take a few sips and set the soda beside me on the end table.
“You should take your temperature. Do you have a thermometer?”
“There’s a six-year-old living here. Of course I have a thermometer.” I fluff my pillows and sit up. I’ve slept for about fourteen hours which is unheard of for me. Even though I feel like I could go back to sleep, I figure it’s better if I try to stay awake.
“So sassy,” he says with a smile. “Where is it?”
