Page 74 of Knot So Sweet
When I get back, she's curled on her side, knees pulled up. Looking small and miserable.
Something in my chest cracks.
I set everything on the nightstand, sit on the edge of the bed. The mattress dips under my weight. "Sit up."
She does, slow and careful like any sudden movement might make her sick again.
I shake out two aspirin, hand them to her with the water. "Take these."
She swallows them down, grimacing at the taste.
"Now eat." I pick up the pastry, tear off a small piece, hold it out to her.
Her lips part, and I slip the bite into her mouth. Watch her chew slowly, carefully. See the moment the chocolate hits her tongue and her eyes close in pleasure.
"Good?" My voice comes out rougher than intended.
"Mmm." She swallows, opens her eyes. "Really good."
I tear off another piece, feed it to her. Then another. Taking my time. Making sure she keeps it down. Her lips brush my fingers on the third bite, soft and warm, and my brain stutters.
Focus.
When half the pastry's gone, she shakes her head. "Can't eat anymore."
"Alright." I set the plate aside, pick up the water glass. "Drink."
She does, small sips. I watch her throat work with each swallow. Watch color slowly return to her cheeks.
"Better?"
"A little." She hands the glass back, lies down again. Curls on her side facing me.
I should leave. Should get back to the bakery. Should put distance between us before I do something stupid.
Can't make myself move.
"You gonna be sick again?" I ask instead.
"Don't think so. Not if I stay still."
I nod. Sit there like an idiot, not sure what to do with my hands.
She reaches out, fingers finding mine where they rest on my thigh. "Will you stay? Just for a bit?"
Fuck.
"Yeah. I can stay."
Her smile is small but genuine. She tugs on my hand, and I let her pull me down until I'm lying beside her on top of the covers. On my side, facing her.
We're close. Too close. I can see the flecks of green in her eyes, count her eyelashes, smell her shampoo.
"Thank you," she whispers. "For taking care of me."
"Someone has to." The words come out gruffer than I mean them. "You're shit at it yourself."
She laughs softly. "True."
