Chapter 21
A s my eyes fluttered open, I was assaulted by a piercing yellow light and immediately squeezed them shut. I grasped blindly at the covers to pull them over my face, feeling something oddly warm and firm that must have been part of my body I wasn’t yet registering.
Because thinking was hard.
I groaned and decided to stay under the blanket until that blasted sun went down—or at least until it stopped streaming through my window.
As I tried to get comfortable, my elbow connected with something solid, and I yelped.
What hard object did I leave on the bed? Maybe a hardcover book. It wouldn’t be the first time.
I stuck my hand out again to push the object away, but it was surprisingly heavy, weighing the blanket down.
A throat cleared.
A throat … not my throat. Not raspy enough. My throat was killing me.
Wait, what or who made that sound?
I threw the blanket off my face and arms and screamed.
A man was sitting on the bed, less than a foot away. A fully clothed man holding a book, with a face like …
“Jeff?” I croaked out.
“Good morning, sunshine,” he said, setting the book down next to him. “I probably have a bruise on my leg now, thanks.”
“I’m sorry. But what are you doing here? I—” I stopped to cough into my elbow.
“You’re sick. I’m taking care of you.”
Before I could unpack that crazy sentence, I started to push the hair out of my face until I thought better of it. As bad as my hair felt, it probably looked nowhere near as bad as my face. I propped my upper body on my elbow. “Um, sorry for screaming at you.”
He chuckled. “Well, it wasn’t exactly a scream, to be fair. More like a frightened whispery croak.”
I winced.
“Sorry, that came out wrong.”
I stared at him. First he’d chuckled, then he’d apologized. And he was here , in my bedroom . “Is this some kind of alternate universe? Or—I know—it’s a fever dream, isn’t it?” My head sank back into the foam pillow, and I closed my eyes. “I should go back to sleep then.”
“You can sleep again if you want, but you’re not dreaming now. You slept for a long time.” I felt a gentle nudge on my arm. “You seem a little bit more lucid now than you were yesterday.”
My eyes flew open. “You’ve been here since yesterday?” I couldn’t comprehend.
“Don’t worry, I slept on the couch,” he said. “Or I tried. It’s a little soft for my taste.”
“It’s lovingly broken in,” I said, “because I sit there a lot. I mean, not like … I’m not a couch potato. I don’t watch that much TV, only a few shows I’m really dedicated to. But I like to be comfortable, so sue me.”
He looked at me with raised eyebrows and then chuckled again. “You don’t have to explain why your couch is soft. I wasn’t criticizing you. I just happen to like sleeping on firm beds.”
I couldn’t seriously be having a conversation about what kind of bed he preferred while he was in my bed . This was beyond inappropriate. We were colleagues!
And yet there was something about him relaxed and leaning against the headboard that looked … not wrong.
I shook my head. My brain must still be waking up from the sedating cold meds .
“Are you feeling a little better?”
“Eh, a little.” I glanced over at him again. “I mean, yes. A lot better. You can go now. You’re released from sick duty. Did Hazel tell you to stay with me? I thought she only told you to bring the files.”
He scratched his head, a frown appearing on his face. “You don’t have to lie about how you’re feeling, Roxy. I’m not in a hurry to get out of here.”
I stared ahead at my half-open closet on the opposite wall while trying to process all this. “What about Lila?”
“What about her?”
“Didn’t your ex ask you to take Lila this weekend?”
“She did, yes.” He paused. “But I said no. I’ve had Lila every weekend lately, and I love it, but she also needs to spend time with her mother. Both of them actually agreed it would be nice. Besides, you are the one who told me to put my foot down with Aileen.”
“I did?” My brows furrowed. “Wait, now I remember. I can’t believe you actually took my advice.” I laughed. “You still haven’t told me why you stayed though. It’s a bit above and beyond the call of duty for a co-worker, is it not? Especially a co-worker you hate.”
He frowned and remained silent for a bit. “You might not believe me, but I don’t hate you. I actually never have.”
“You could’ve fooled me. Well, actually, you did fool me.”
“Not intentionally.” He let out a long breath that spoke of mild frustration and something else I couldn’t identify. “Anyway, I didn’t mind staying. I’d already said no to Aileen about having Lila stay over again, and you really seemed like you needed help last night.”
I’m sure my puffy, snot-stained face turned pink then. “I … I don’t actually remember it all that well. Hopefully I wasn’t acting too weird or inappropriate.”
“Only a little.” When my eyes flew to his though, he was trying to suppress a smile.
“It’s fine, Roxy. I need you healthy for the big week ahead, when the decorators are finally coming.
Besides, you’ve endured spending time with me twice for the sake of my daughter.
Staying to take care of you was the very least I could do. ”
“Oh, I see.” I turned away so he couldn’t see my frown.
He’d stayed because he was trying to repay a favor or something?
So what if he did? That shouldn’t bother me.
I tried to shove away the thoughts. “I rarely get sick, you know. But it’s been kind of stressful these past few months. Wearing so many hats.” I snuck a glance at him again. “You know what that’s like, right?”
He nodded. “Stress can definitely make us more susceptible to illness.”
I propped myself up on my elbow again and looked more closely at him. “You have morning stubble,” I murmured. “I’ve never seen that before. You’re usually so …”
“Buttoned up? I think that’s what you said last night.”
“I said that?” I remembered thinking it, but I couldn’t believe I said it. What else did I say out loud that I didn’t remember now?
“You did,” Jeff confirmed.
I inhaled sharply, trying to remember last night. “Did I say anything about … anything?"
He pressed his lips together as if to suppress a smile. "Sure. You told me to call and order a Christmas tree from Terry." I winced. Terry owned a tree farm, but I didn't usually decorate since I lived alone and it just felt weird.
"I don't remember that at all," I muttered. "Did you actually call him?"
"No, I figured I'd check with you today when you were lucid. After that, you said you had no decorations and asked if I wanted to go shopping with you in the Christmas Village." He'd spoken casually as though this wasn't a bizarre and embarrassing thing to ask.
"Oh my gosh, no. Please erase that from your memory," I said as I dropped my face into my palms .
He chuckled. "If you say so."
"What about ... did I mention, um, the party?”
“The annual Christmas party? Or the New Year’s one?” he asked.
“Well, either one.”
“You said you were skipping the Christmas party as usual. And you’re bringing a date on New Year’s Eve.” His eyes were intent, and I didn’t know what to make of it. At all.
“Oh … I don’t remember that at all.” I winced and looked down at my hands. “Did I say anything else?”
“You said that you always get excited about making resolutions for the new year. And that you were nervous. About the New Year’s party.” His face was unreadable when I gazed up at him again. “That’s it. It was during the night when your fever spiked.”
“Oh,” I said quietly.
We sat there in silence for a long minute or two, and finally, he sat up straighter and then swung his long legs down to stand up. “I’m going to make you some food. Last night, you were asleep before I could feed you.”
“Oh, you don’t have to …” I trailed off, remembering what he’d said last night about how I never let people take care of me. “Actually, food is good. Thank you. I’m just going to get cleaned up. I look a fright, I know.”
He shook his head, a ghost of a smile crossing his face before he turned and strolled out of the room in a relaxed manner, as if this were a totally normal situation.
As I dragged myself out of bed and ambled over to the bathroom, my mind reeled with all the events recently and the words exchanged just now.
I couldn’t help but wonder if I actually didn’t hate him either.
Maybe I might even like him.
But only a tiny bit.