Chapter 27 Burnt Out
Burnt out
Bzzz bzzz bzzz bzzz.
I roll over and quickly turn off my phone alarm, rubbing my eyes as I take in my room.
I drag my hands over my face, trying to wake myself up, then slide them across the lilac sheets I bought this week.
They’re covered in cute little bows, and I’m obsessed.
I haven’t bought much for myself since moving in, but I really wanted something to make the room feel more like me.
Gizmo stirs beside me, stretching her little body out.
It’s been almost three weeks since I moved in with the guys.
I have the weekend off, but the boys are working, they said something about a house settlement due next week, so they’ve been pulling long hours all week.
I’m supposed to meet Dani for a Pilates session at the gym.
Unfortunately, it’s an early session because Dani is an unapologetic morning person.
I’m not sure if it’s the van she lives in that lets in all the light, or if she’s just naturally sunny.
Either way, I am not a morning person. But here I am, 5 a.m. on my day off, waking up to an alarm for my friend.
I literally roll out of bed and stumble to the shower. Afterward, I throw on black tights and a crop top, pull my hair into a ponytail, and skip the makeup. Not today.
I head out of my room, expecting the boys to be gone like they sometimes are at this hour, but I’m surprised to find Lucas still at the kitchen counter, a steaming mug of coffee beside him and his arms crossed underneath his head. I sneak up on him.
“Whatcha doin’?” I say softly.
He startles and looks up. He looks awful. Still gorgeous, obviously, but he’s pale, clammy, and with red-rimmed eyes.
“Sorry if I scared you.”
“It’s alright. I think I might’ve just been asleep,” he says with a rough chuckle. His voice is croaky—he sounds sick.
“You okay? You don’t sound too good.” I walk over and place a hand on his forehead before he can pull away.
“I’m fine,” he mutters, brushing me off gently as he sniffles.
“Lucas, I think you might have a fever.”
He groans. “Don’t say that. I don’t have time to be sick. I’ve got too much to do.” He drops his head into his hands and coughs. “I took Panadol and slept in, hoping it’d help. Tyler’s already at work, covering for me. I need to go—” he glances at his watch, “—shit, now.”
“Hey. You can’t help it if you’re sick. I’m sure the boys can cover for you while you rest.”
“Ugh, I dunno. I never take sick days. And I definitely shouldn’t right now. But my head… it’s pounding.” He puts his hand to his temples.
“Lucas, you’re burnt out. You need to rest. Seriously, you should not be at work today. If you don’t call Tyler to say you’re not coming in, then I will.”
He just stares at me blinking like he’s out of it, then lays his head back down as he coughs some more. Before he can argue, I pull my phone out and text Tyler.
Me: Lucas is seriously sick. Temp and everything.
He can’t work today. Can you cover for him?
Tyler: Thought it was weird he slept in. We’ve got it covered.
Not too much to do anyway.
Me: Perfect. Thanks! See you this arvo.
I glance back up and realise Lucas has fallen asleep at the counter again. I might as well keep going while I’m ahead because there’s no way I’m leaving him like this.
Me: Can’t make it. Lucas is sick.
Gonna stay home and look after him.
Danielle: Whipped.
Danielle: Kidding! Seriously though,
I hope he’s okay. xxx
I fill up a water bottle and walk over, gently nudging Lucas awake. He groans like a child, but lets me guide him towards his room. Gizmo trails after us like my tiny, fuzzy sidekick.
His room is enormous. I’ve seen it before briefly on the house tour, but walking into it now, with him leaning heavily against me, it hits differently. Everything smells like him.
He collapses onto his bed. I eye his outfit, realising he’s in work clothes and his steel caps are still on.
“You’re not sleeping in that. Just wait there, I’ll grab you something more comfortable.”
“Second drawer to the left,” he croaks, coughing again.
I walk to his drawers, grab some black cotton sweat shorts and a soft-looking grey tee. When I turn back, he’s already stripped off his shirt.
And wow.
I freeze. Just for a second. Because even half-dead with the flu, he looks… incredible. Lean muscles, tan skin, that little V at his hips. I mentally scold myself for staring a little bit too long. This is becoming a habit of mine when it comes to him.
“Like what you see?” he rasps, raising an eyebrow.
I feel the heat rise in my cheeks. “You wish.” I toss the clothes at him and quickly busy myself with fluffing a pillow.
But the damage is done. My brain’s short-circuited. I can still feel the image of his bare chest like it’s been imprinted into the back of my eyelids.
He finishes changing, then falls back against the pillows coughing more.
I quickly pass him the water bottle.
He takes a big drink, his throat finally calming a bit. “I’ve got this now. You can go… I don’t want you getting sick too.”
“I know, but I want to stay. Don’t worry about me. I’m tough as nails. I touch people for a living remember? My immune system is bulletproof. Plus, I’m not leaving you like this.” I sit on the edge of the bed.
“You really don’t have t—”
“Lucas, I’m staying okay?”
He groans again, but gives me a soft, exhausted smile. “If you insist.”
“You’re a stubborn man.” I laugh, and we smile at each other.
That chemistry is always simmering between us. But now isn’t the time to let it spark.
I glance at the huge TV on the wall. “Want me to put something on? Or do you just wanna sleep?”
“You can put something on, but only if you lay down too,” he says, patting the spot beside him.
The bed is massive. I could easily lie beside him without even brushing shoulders. But the idea of lying next to him? Feels dangerous.
I climb in anyway. Staying on top of the covers. Just a girl helping out a sick housemate. Nothing more.
“Fine. But I’m picking,” I say, grabbing the remote.
He nods, content. “Deal.”
I put on Gilmore Girls, another comfort show I watch on repeat.
I remember watching it with Mum when I was little.
I didn’t always get what was happening, but she loved it.
And now I do too. I glance over at Lucas, who’s already fast asleep.
His hair’s messy, his skin flushed. I probably stare too long at his beautiful face.
My chest feels tight. I can’t feel like this.
I should leave. But I’m too comfortable and I love this show. So I stay.
Even when my eyes get heavy, I stay.
I wake up to movement and coughing. I blink, realizing I’m still in Lucas’s bed. Except now, my head is on his chest, my legs are entwined with his. He’s still asleep, but his arm is wrapped tightly around me. We’re moulded together like a perfect puzzle piece.
The TV is still playing, and judging by the episode, I’ve only been out for about 45 minutes.
I don’t move. Not right away.
I glance over to his face. Peaceful. Pale. Still too warm. I place my hand on his forehead. The fever’s dropped a little.
Slowly, carefully, I slip out of the bed. I head to the home gym for a quick workout, just to clear my mind.
Afterward, I peek into his room. He’s awake now, but barely. I let him rest and go to the kitchen to make bacon and eggs on toast.
When I return, he looks up at me with a sleepy smile. Still a bit pale.
“I wasn’t sure if you’d be hungry, but thought I’d make something anyway.”
His lips quirk. “I’m actually starving. Thank you.”
I set everything up on a tray between us, and we eat in bed like it’s the most normal thing in the world.
“You feeling any better?” I ask between bites.
He shrugs. “A little better. I’m glad you told me to stay home. I don’t think I could’ve made it through work like this. Thank you… for looking after me.” He looks shy, like he’s not used to being taken care of.
“I know you’d do the same for me,” I say, smiling.
We spend the rest of the day in Lucas’s bed watching TV. He drifts in and out of sleep, and I don’t mind. Tyler comes home at one point, so I pop out to say hi, then return to Lucas’s room.
We eat dinner in bed too. His fever’s gone now, though the coughing and sneezing hasn’t.
He keeps insisting he doesn’t want me to get sick, but I’m honestly enjoying myself. Even without much conversation, it’s nice just being with him.
After another episode, I yawn.
“I might head to bed.”
“You can sleep here, if you like?”
I want to. I really, really want to. But I shouldn’t. I’ve spent the whole day here, I even napped on him. That’s enough temptation for one day.
“Thanks, but I should probably head to my bed.” I laugh softly. “Been in here all day.”
He nods, eyes dipping. “Yeah. That’s fine. Thank you for today. You seriously made being sick bearable.”
“It was my pleasure, Lucas.” I lean over and kiss his cheek. I’m so tempted to kiss his lips. But I don’t. I pull away, climb out of bed, and start to head to my room.
Gizmo stays cuddled up to him, staring at me like she’s judging me.
Bitch, where are you going? Let’s just sleep here.
But I need space. If I stay, I won’t be able to stop myself. These feelings are already too much. One part of me says everything about him is right. But another part? It whispers that the timing is wrong. Talk about right person, wrong time. But maybe, eventually? The timing could be right?
Gizmo hops out of bed, meows softly, and follows me. I give Lucas one last quick smile before leaving the room.
“Night Angel.”
I make my way to my room, the butterflies going crazy in my stomach, because Lucas called me Angel, again. Every time he says it, it lights something up inside me. I have to stop myself from turning around and going back to him.
I don’t though. I keep going. I make it to my room and get myself ready for bed, my thoughts still drifting to Lucas.