Chapter 20Annie
Chapter 20
Annie
OCTOBER | Balance: $50,262
I’d been in L.A. for about six weeks when I decided it was due time for me to give Guy and Kitty their house back. I found a single-story, one-bedroom house in Westmont, closer to work for me and on a safe enough street with seemingly quiet neighbors.
Unfortunately, my house was filthy when I moved in. Even if the house itself wasn’t as nice as where I’d lived in the past or where I’d ultimately like to live, I didn’t have to live in filth. While I waited for Mikey and Guy to show up with my moving truck, I shined the fixtures to a sparkle, swept colonies of dust bunnies out of corners, and cleaned cobwebs from the walls.
The doorbell rang, and I met Mikey and Guy on the other side, already holding my couch.
“Where do you want it?” Guy asked with a smile. I felt fortunate to have friends with such great fiancés and husbands. In fairness, I think Guy was glad to get me out of his house. He’d never said so much and never would, but I knew I was in the way. I was relieved to no longer be their third wheel, and though we loved each other dearly, I didn’t need to keep sharing a space with the newlyweds.
I indicated a spot in the living room for my couch and got back to cleaning. As I was bent over the bathtub, cleaning out some ground-in grime, a familiar voice came from behind me.
“This box says ‘bathroom.’”
I startled, hitting my head on the soap shelf and hissing. The box clanked on the floor, sounding like all my nail polish bottles. A hand met the top of my head, rubbing the sore spot.
“I’m sorry.”
Just like that, an arm wrapped around my shoulders and I was against a tall, somewhat sweaty, and very temperature hot chest. I met his eyes in the bathroom mirror: cat green and contrite. My whole body flashed with heat.
“Nick, what are you doing here?”
“Stelle and Mikey said they were coming over to help, so I tagged along.”
My brow furrowed. “You shouldn’t be here. You’re my client.”
He shrugged. “It’s Sunday. I’m your client Monday to Friday.”
I crossed my arms under my breasts. “I’m serious, Nick. What if someone at work found out? I can’t afford to get fired.”
He held both of my shoulders, his thumb moving gently along my skin. “You worry too much, angel. No one’s going to show up here and find us out.”
I clenched my jaw. “I don’t need you to help me move. I don’t want to owe you anything. Especially not a roll in the hay.”
Nick looked to the ceiling, exasperated. “This isn’t about that. I just wanted something to do. Stelle said you promised pizza and beer.” He did a double-take of the vent fan on the ceiling. “Ew, gross.” He grabbed a wad of toilet paper and swiped at the fan, something easy for him at his height. “Guess they didn’t bother to clean before you moved in.”
I sighed and flourished the scrub brush in my hand. “Yeah, that’s why I’m doing this and not getting boxes out of the truck.”
He gave me a weak smile. “I’ll get back to it so you can, too.”
The boys made quick work of getting my boxes and furniture out of the truck. I finished my cleaning and walked through to make sure I didn’t want them to move anything else before the pizza arrived.
I found Nick in the bedroom, sliding my box spring into my bedframe. He hadn’t noticed me yet and grabbed at his throat, massaging the lymph nodes under his chin.
“Throat hurt?” I asked.
Nick turned his head and swallowed hard. “Yeah, pretty bad all of a sudden. Might just be the dust.”
I approached him, extending my hand to his head. “You felt hot when you hugged me earlier. I thought it was just from moving.”
The backs of my knuckles met the searing heat on his forehead. “Nick, holy cow. You’re burning up. Let me get you some water.”
He shrugged. “It’s probably just the dust and moving stuff.”
“Here, help me put the mattress on top and I’ll get you a drink. I’ll dig out some tea.”
His smile was weak, his eyes soft. “Thanks, Annie.”
We moved the mattress and he followed me to the kitchen. I rummaged through a box for my tea kettle and unearthed a box of herbal tea. “Cinnamon good for you?”
“You really don’t have to go to the trouble, Annie. It’s fine. I’ll just have some water.”
I gave him a skeptical eye but obeyed. He winced as he swallowed the water. Mikey and Guy walked in at that moment with pizza boxes on their arms, catching his pained expression.
“What’s the matter with you?” Mikey asked him.
“His throat hurts and he’s hot.”
Guy chuckled. “I know you two have history, but way to lay it out there, Markham.”
I stamped my foot and growled. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Oh shit, you got Sorrento’s kids’ sickness, didn’t you?” Mikey said.
“I couldn’t have gotten it that fast,” Nick objected.
“You were with Sorrento’s kids?” I asked.
“He was freaking out because two of them were sick and his wife was visiting her mom, so I went over to help,” Nick said, like it was natural that dudes help each other with sick kids. Color me impressed. He flinched again after talking. I raised my eyebrows at him. “I’m fine, Annie. It’s just allergies. Let’s eat.”
We sat around my slightly-too-big dining table, sharing pizza and wings. Nick tried to hide the tear in his eye when he ate a wing. Mikey and Guy carried the conversation, and I was still embarrassed that Nick was even there. Nick declined a beer, saying his head hurt. Through the course of eating, he got more and more red around the eyes, his dark circles more pronounced. He excused himself to the bathroom after dinner.
“Need anything else, Annie?” Guy asked as we tossed our paper plates in a garbage bag. “I think me and Mike are gonna take off.”
“Nick didn’t ride with you?”
“Nah, he drove separate. He lives closer to you.”
I twisted my lips. “Yeah, y’all can go. Thanks so much for helping me. Give your woman my best.” I gave him a hug. “And thank you for housing me for the last two months. You’re too good to me.”
Guy squeezed me before letting me go. “Anytime, Annie. We’re always here for you.”
Mikey and Guy called out goodbyes to Nick as they left.
Nick emerged from the bathroom looking like hell. “I’d better get home,” he croaked.
My brow knit. “You sure? Let me take your temperature.”
“You’ll have to dig it out of a box,” he objected.
“Sit,” I commanded, pushing him back to the couch.
“I can’t stay. I have to get home to Greg.”
I was already in the bathroom, digging through my medicine cabinet box. I located the thermometer and went back out to the living room.
“Open,” I said, putting the thermometer under his tongue. He looked so pathetic and vulnerable, a giant little boy with sick eyes. But I guess a thermometer makes anyone look pathetic. I cursed myself for having not invested in one of those forehead thermometers. The mouth ones always took forever.
But not this time. It beeped within a few seconds of being in his mouth.
“104?! Nick, you’re sick as a dog! Your brain is boiling!”
“I know,” he grumbled. “That’s why I’m trying to go home.”
“You can’t drive like that, Nick! You have to stay here.”
His eyes went desperate. “I have a dog, Annie. I can’t leave him.”
I chewed my lip. He looked dreadful. I shoved some boxes out of the way so I could close the front door properly and grabbed my keys.
“Wait here. I’ll pack a bag and take you home.”
I knew he was bad off because the fight had left him. I helped him up, putting my arm around his back as I walked beside him. I’d always been the caretaker for my little siblings growing up, especially when Mom was sick and couldn’t be around them. Even if it put me at risk, I kind of enjoyed the coziness of it all: curling up with them in bed, bringing them snacks and drinks, reading them books, patting their hair.
And here was Nick, helping me move while he was genuinely sick. Not only that, but he’d been really kind about helping me bail from Kitty’s wedding when I got my period. I owed it to him to take care of him. I didn’t have anything tethering me to my new house. He had his dog to look after.
Nick was shivering by the time I got him in the car. I had him type in his address so he wouldn’t have to talk. His cheeks bloomed with red from the fever. He indicated where I should park in his driveway. The house was modest, too big for one person but not outrageously so. He took my hand as I turned off the car.
I turned and met his sad puppy dog eyes. “Thank you, Annie,” he mouthed. “I don’t want you to get sick.”
I ran a hand over his hair and softened my voice. “I’m not worried about that, bub. You helped me move, and you know you didn’t have to. This is the least I can do. Let’s go get you in bed.”
The dog I’d only met in pictures before appeared when we got in the front door. Nick reached down to scratch him behind the ears. Then Greg turned to me with his black marble eyes. I knelt down, unable to resist that darling Chihuahua face.
“Hi, little buddy,” I cooed. Slowly, he sidled over, the silver in his fawn-colored face showing his age. “How old is he?”
Nick watched us with a grin, holding up nine fingers.
“You’re nine? When did Mr. Ober get you, huh?”
“Last year,” came Nick’s whisper. “They were going to put him down.”
Greg put his paws up on my thigh, begging for more affection in the most gentle, old man kind of way.
“Who could say no to this face? You need to go outside, pup?”
Nick pointed to the leash by the door, then gestured that he was heading for his room.
“I’ll figure out where everything is,” I assured him. “We’ll be back soon, won’t we, Greg?”
When I stood, Nick brought me into a tight hug.
“Sorry about this,” he whispered.
“No apologies. Go get in some sweats and get in bed. I’ll check on you when I get back.”
After a harder squeeze, he let me go.
Greg led me around a seemingly pre-determined route in their neighborhood. The street was on a hill, giving everyone a good view of the ocean. I knew a lot of Princes lived in Manhattan Beach to be close to their practice facility, Guy and Mikey aside. The houses were modest with price tags that could make you choke on your own spit. The October sun lowered toward the water, one of the best benefits of the West Coast: always good sunsets.
When we got back, I poured myself a glass of water and got an extra for Nick.
“Show me where your dad is,” I said to Greg, and like he understood with his tiny peanut brain, he walked toward a bedroom. It was very neat, with nice built-in bookshelves stocked with plenty of books. Greg walked up a little ramp next to the bed and settled into a sleeping Nick’s arms. Nick stirred, looking at me with tired eyes. I put the glass of water on the nightstand, brushing his hair off his forehead. He was still fire hot.
“You want to try drinking some tea?” I offered.
Nick nodded, then pointed to the bathroom. “Masks.”
I shrugged. “The damage is probably already done. But I’ll put one on. Do you know what his kids had?”
Nick shook his head.
“I’ll text Kitty to try and find out.” I stepped into the bathroom to find he’d laid out masks, medicine, and a thermometer. It was pretty cute that he was letting me be his sick nurse, but he’d set everything up for me.
“Did you take the meds?”
“Trying to hold off,” he croaked. “Fever can do its job.”
I nodded and left the room. I texted Kitty while I prepared the tea, admiring the gorgeous ocean view from his kitchen window.
Hey, I’m helping Obi out while he’s sick.
Can you find out what Sorrento’s kids had?
He thinks that’s what he’s got
Kitty Gatto
!!!!
So that’s still going on?
Nothing’s happening. He just started feeling bad
while he was helping me move
Sure. Guess you’d better nurse the baby back to health
Stop
I’ll check on the diagnosis situation. Hope it’s not strep or the flu or you’re screwed
(angry emoji)
I carried two tea mugs back to Nick’s room, his insulated in case he’d fallen asleep again. And he had, curled up with Greg, his dark lashes splayed out on his cheeks. I left him to rest, carrying my mug to the bookshelves to look for some reading material. Reading would be better than bothering him with the TV, and I could keep an eye on him until I was ready to sleep. Probably best if I slept in another room anyway.
I plucked an Agatha Christie off the shelf and snuggled into the cozy chair in one corner of the room. He’d made a reading nook of sorts with a chair, lamp, and side table. Damn, Nick. Didn’t see that coming. I knew he was smart, but I didn’t know he was reading nook in his bedroom smart. The tea, blanket, and book were enough to send me dozing earlier than I imagined. Greg woke me at one point to get in my lap, adding to the cozy factor. Then he woke me again to take him out. Just like that, this dog knew I was the person in charge and didn’t object. I got why Nick was obsessed with his little dog. He was the epitome of ugly cute, with a little too much chub and big buggy eyes and loose skin in various places.
When we returned from our walk, Nick was shivering in the bed. I went over to check on him to find his eyes open and glazed over.
“Nick? You okay, bub?”
He was laying on his side, a little tear streaking out of his bottom eye. “No.” He grabbed for my hand. “Help, Annie.”
Panic surged in me as Greg climbed his ramp to get back in bed with Nick.
“It’s going to be okay. Let me get your temperature. I think it might be time for medicine.”
Nick didn’t disagree. He had one of the fancy thermometers, and it read 106. I checked it on myself to make sure it wasn’t miscalibrated. Mine was perfectly normal. I checked his again to find the same result.
He was already freaking out, so I didn’t need to tell him how high the fever was. I counted out a couple of pills and brought them to him. “Can you sit up and take these, baby?”
He obeyed, wincing as he sat up. “My whole body hurts.”
Even though I probably shouldn’t have, I leaned over and kissed his forehead. Seeing a big guy like him be so pathetic was scary, but I had to keep my cool. “I know, bub. It’s gonna be okay.”
He groaned as he swallowed the pills, clutching his throat. At what point did a human need to see a doctor?
“Let me get my phone. I want to look at your throat.”
Before I could get up, he clutched my wrist. “Don’t go.”
I rested on the bed’s edge. I’d never seen him, or hardly anyone, look so rough. Not just sick, but terrified.
“Just lie back, buddy. I’ll come right back.”
I used the bathroom and got my phone off the charger, returning to his bed. I was still in my moving clothes, which I realized might have dust irritating his throat.
“I forgot night clothes. Can I borrow something?”
He nodded and pointed to the dresser. “Bottom drawer.”
I pulled out some sweats, stepping into the bathroom to change. I’m tall and they were still enormous. I was too hot to put on the sweatshirt, so I just wore my sports bra with his sweatpants, rolled multiple times. A small smile curved his lips when I approached his bed.
“My angel,” he whispered.
“Oh, stop with that,” I said, waving him off. I lifted the sheets. “Scooch.”
I arranged myself behind him, my legs cradling his body so he could lean back into me. “Take your shirt off.”
“I’m freezing,” he protested.
“It’ll help with your fever. Just trust me. I used to do it with my little siblings when they were sick. And it feels good.” He paused. “Just lift your arms, bub. I’ll get it off you.”
He lifted and I tugged his sweatshirt and t-shirt off. I helped him take a sip of tea while he was sitting up. He cried out as he swallowed.
“It’s like eating glass!” he squeaked.
“That’s weird. Tea usually helps a sore throat.” I put the mug back on the nightstand. “Lean back, baby.”
Nick leaned into me, resting his head on my boobs. “I don’t get sick, Annie.”
I idly stroked my hands over his chest. It wasn’t clean-shaven, but it looked like he trimmed his chest hair. It was endearing to think of him caring about that for some reason. “You were around little kids, Nick. They’re little germ factories.”
“I’m gonna die, Annie. This isn’t normal.”
I kissed the top of his head. “You’re not gonna die, babe. I’m here. I wouldn’t let you die.”
“What if I have some mutant flu? I’m gonna die without having sex with a woman.”
A bunch of things clicked in my head. “I thought you said you weren’t a virgin. You could have just told me.”
He craned his neck to look at me. “I’m not a virgin.”
“But you just said . . .” Was he hallucinating? Fevers can make you think and say wild things.
“I said I’ve never had sex with a woman.”
“Oh, wow. Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t pick up on that. Are you bi?”
“I usually consider it pan,” he whispered. “But yeah.”
“Hey.” I reached for his hand and held it across his chest. “Thanks for trusting me.”
“Don’t tell anyone,” he said miserably.
“I wouldn’t out you, Nick.”
“Yeah, well, I thought you wouldn’t tell people that I’m bad at eating pussy either, and here we are.”
I put a hand to my forehead. “I’m really sorry about that. And for what it’s worth, I’m bi. I get it.”
He squeezed my hand in his and tipped his head back to meet my eyes. “Really?”
“Yes. But you were not my first man.”
He gave a hoarse chuckle. “Yeah, I figured. You were too good at everything. And the whole affair with a married man thing.”
“That had nothing to do with me being bi, by the way. There’s that stereotype of bi people not being able to be monogamous, but that’s not me.”
His eyes met mine. “I know. You just fell in love.”
For being twenty-one, I was impressed with how wise he could be. “Thanks for understanding, Nick.”
“You too, angel.”
My throat went dry as I considered what Nick had asked of me. Maybe what Nick had proposed wouldn’t be so outlandish. Maybe a friends-with-benefits arrangement with a genuinely kind human would be a good way to recover from an absolutely rotten relationship. We could kiss and cuddle without having to worry where it was going. And he might not be the most skilled at sex, but he was asking for help in that department.
He'd screwed up with me for sure, but it was forgivable. He was trying. He was honest. I didn’t think he had a bone of ill intent in his body. I’d never seen a video of him mic’d up during a game, but he was probably one of those goalies who sings songs and goofs off.
What would be the harm?