Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
LOTTIE
My tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth, and it takes three tries to swallow. If this is a hangover, I seriously hope it was worth it.
Blinking, I take inventory of my body. I actually don’t feel terrible, so at least I know I didn’t accidentally drink a bottle of wine while watching Below Deck and pretending to be a yachtie again.
I pull back the covers that I’ve somehow managed to tuck under every inch of myself. What the…
Is this a man’s shirt? Lifting the collar to my nose I inhale, and a mixture of excitement and dread fill my gut. I recognize this scent. Under the distinct odor of sickness that lingers is Thane.
He smells like ocean and leather with a hint of clean laundry.
Why am I wearing Thane’s shirt?
It’s dark in my room, but the sun is peeking through my blackout curtains. I have no idea what time it is, and the last thing I remember doing is visiting that terrible nurse practitioner.
Oh.
Right.
Flu and strep throat.
It still doesn’t explain why I’m wearing Thane’s shirt, or who dressed me in it.
That tendril of excitement sends electric currents from my fingertips to my toes. Did Thane put this on me? Oh God. I always wear granny panties when I’m sick, did he see those?
Wait. No way should he have seen me naked or in granny panties. My head spins as I swing my legs over the edge of the bed.
“Where the fuck are you going?”
The gravelly bear voice comes from my floor, and I scream and jump onto the mattress. My arms immediately go into some sort of self-defense stance, while I try to steady my legs on the squishy mattress.
A giant shadow springs from the floor, and I panic. My arms swing wildly while I attempt to ninja-kick the intruder, but I lose my balance. Strong arms wrap around me, pulling another shriek from my lungs right before Thane’s masculine scent envelopes my senses.
“Thane? What the hell are you doing in my bedroom?”
“Stop hitting me.” His arms crush me against him. Oh. There’s a slight disconnect between my brain and my limbs. Logic said Thane while my body was still fighting an intruder.
Wait. No. He is the intruder. But I do stop hitting him.
“Why were you creeping around on my floor?”
He pins me to his chest—his bare chest, with one arm—leans us heavily to the right, and flips on my bedside light.
It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust.
Tiny cups are lined up on my dresser. A box of tissues, Gatorade bottles, a thermometer, throat spray, and an old teacup sit on my nightstand.
On the floor are blankets I don’t recognize, laid out as a makeshift bed.
What in the ever-living hell is going on?
“Are you sleeping on my floor?”
“Yes.” His breath shifts my hair around my face. Oh Jesus. He’s still pressing me into his naked chest.
There are so many questions to ask, and I’m not sure which is more pressing.
“Ah, you can let me go now.” My voice crackles, and he stares down at me.
“Are you going to get back in bed and not fight me?”
“W—what?” Dirty images I have no business thinking flash like a neon sign in my mind saying yes , yes , and yes, please, sir .
“You’ve been sick for days, and your medicine wasn’t working. I had to bring a doctor in from Nashville when I realized none of the ones around here made house calls.”
He…he brought in a doctor all the way from Nashville because I have the freaking flu?
“Are you out of your mind? It’s the flu, Thane, not life or death.”
“Actually, smart ass, it’s the flu, strep, and now pneumonia. How long have you been sick without going to the doctor?”
“I…” Hmm. I was sure it was allergies, but the day after our incident on the swing, I knew I was coming down with something. A day after that, I didn’t get out of bed. And it was another day before I went to the witchy woman at the clinic. “I went to the doctor when I felt sick enough. That still doesn’t answer why you’re in my room.”
“You needed someone to take care of you, so I took care of you.” He slowly lowers his arms and puts an inch of space between us. One. Inch.
“You took care of me?”
“That’s what I said.”
Thane is grumpy when he gets woken up by a screaming woman in the middle of the…
“What time is it?”
He leans over to my nightstand and taps his phone to wake it up. “Six in the morning.”
“I slept through the night?”
A deep line forms between his brows. “Not a night, sweetheart. You’ve been sleeping pretty much straight through for three days, but the doctor said some of the new meds might make you drowsy.”
“So, you’ve been…” I glance around my room again, which suddenly feels a lot like ours . His clothes are neatly folded on a chair in the corner.
My head snaps to his as he takes one small step back. He’s standing before me in low-hanging joggers that cling to his powerful thighs.
“Sit down before you fall.” At his demand, I sink to my knees, and his nostrils flare.
In front of the closet is a card table and folding chair with his laptop and papers set on top. A small suitcase sits by the door, and I have a sneaking suspicion that if I walk into my bathroom right now, I’ll find his toothbrush next to mine.
“I’ve been taking care of you,” he repeats. “Your body was resistant to the antibiotics, and they weren’t bringing down your fever, which is why you were…delirious, and why the second doctor put you on something new.”
I fiddle with the hem of his T-shirt. “And this?” I point to the softest cotton I’ve ever worn.
His shoulders slump, and then he drops onto the bed beside me. It’s so…normal. Weird, since we haven’t known each other long. But normal just the same.
“Your fever made you disgustingly sweaty.”
Awesome. Exactly what a girl wants to hear.
“So, you…changed my clothes?”
He sighs, and then nods. “I didn’t look, but yes, I put clean clothes on you every day.”
“How did you manage that if you didn’t look at me?” Heat pools in my core, and I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling.
“I’ve been putting you in my shirts because they’re easier to get on you and then remove the old one. You remained covered at all times.”
Probably the same way I walk through my front door, unhook my bra, and pull it out the arm of my shirt.
“You really didn’t check me out? At all?”
He raises a brow in my direction. “That would be highly inappropriate, not to mention wrong. I took care of you because you’re my girlfriend and you needed me. And…” He stares at something across the room. “I liked being needed. But I also told you that when I do undress you, when the time is right, you’ll be begging me to do so, not half unconscious from fever.”
My clit throbs. I have no doubt he’s capable of what he’s saying.
“We need to discuss this whole girlfriend thing.”
He flops back onto my bed. “I thought this was settled. Why must we rehash everything?”
“Excuse me, Thane. Contrary to what you believe, your word is not final. Certainly not in my house.”
“Our house.”
He says it with such a straight face, I laugh, but all he does is stare, intently, waiting for me to finish.
“The last I checked, it was only my name on the deed.”
“Yes, but while you were unconscious, Boone found mold and asbestos next door and kicked us out, effective immediately. Kara and Rafe are above your office. She’ll be happy to know that you’re alive. She’s been worried about you.”
Have I really been that sick?
“I’m not sure where to even start, but I know I need to pee.” I freeze when my bare foot hits the cool hardwood floor. “Have I not peed in three days?”
“No, you did.” He shrugs.
“On my own?” Oh my God. This is getting more horrifying by the minute. The slight hysteria in my voice must have clued him into my discomfort because now he’s a foot away from my face, examining me in the way that makes me believe that he could pull all my deepest secrets and desires to the surface.
“I helped you to the toilet, then turned around while you took care of business.”
Oh. My. God.
I farted on the toilet.
I remember sitting down and being so relieved that I was peeing that I let loose with him in the room.
This is not happening right now.
“What’s happening with your face?” he asks, coming closer. Too close for me to hide my embarrassment. Maybe I can pretend I don’t remember.
But then other things, other memories, make themselves known.
I told him he could get frisky with me when he was dabbing my forehead with a wet cloth.
Oh God. I threw up. I threw up all over him.
Why do I have to remember all this now with him inches from my face? Mortification is not a strong enough word.
“Are you going to be sick again?” He grabs hold of my biceps with a strong but gentle grip.
I shake my head no, too scared to open my mouth.
“I don’t understand this. Your face is too red and splotchy. I’m going to call the doctor back.”
“No,” I force past my lips. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine. Are you breathing, okay? Your skin is clammy again. Sit down.”
“Thane, I really have to pee.”
He frowns again, then begins to lift me into his arms. “No. No. I can walk.”
Ignoring my words, he lifts me as though I weigh nothing and carries me into the bathroom, sets me on the toilet, then spins in place.
“Oh no. No. You need to leave right now.”
“It’s fine. I won’t see anything. We’ve done this at least ten times already.”
Ten. Times? Earth, please swallow me whole right now.
“Thane, I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, and I probably owe you more apologies than I can remember right now, but I am not going to pee until you get the hell out of my bathroom.”
His shoulders scrunch up around his ears, and he grunts. “You do seem more ornery this time. Are you sure you won’t fall off the toilet?”
“Fall off. Did that happen?”
He tilts his head back toward me. “Do you really want to know the answer to that?”
“Yes.” I gulp.
“You swayed and said ‘oopsies,’ so I rushed to your side before you hit the floor.”
Oopsies. I said oopsies.
This cannot get any worse.
“Then you asked me if I wanted to keep your sexy underwear.”
His shoulders shake. Is he…? “Are you laughing at me?”
“Sweetheart, I’ve been through your underwear drawer searching for replacements. What you were wearing were not your sexiest pair.”
Indignation fires in my belly.
“My sweet little liar.” He says it with such affection, such reverence, it stuns me into silence.
He faces the door with his arms crossed over his broad chest. His black joggers cling to the tight muscles of his ass, showing me what my hands so eagerly squeezed a few days ago. Or was it closer to a week ago now?
“Charlotte.”
I swallow hard, but I’m unable to draw my attention away from the way the muscles in his back and powerful thighs strain and move together in a symphony of male perfection.
Slowly, he turns his head to the left. “I’m going to turn around.”
I’m frozen as he does.
“Do you need help?” There it is again. That tenderness I didn’t know he was capable of.
“No.” My voice doesn’t sound like my own. I’ve spent most of my life creating and crafting a tough exterior. Turning myself into a strong woman who doesn’t need anyone and wants for nothing.
So why is it, in a matter of weeks, this man has chipped away at that facade, and instead of making me vulnerable, I feel reinforced and stronger than I’ve ever been because he expects perfection in every aspect of his life and looks at me as if I personify it?
My mind is a wreckage of past and present. What I thought I knew and the storms he kicked up when he barged into my universe as though he’s the sun that my world orbits around are all colliding before me.
I don’t believe in destiny or fate. But I do believe in my research, and maybe it’s time I started to trust what my test has been telling me all along—Thane is my person, my other half, my perfect match.
He takes a step closer, and I quickly stand. “I’m okay. Honest. But I’d like some privacy to shower and pull myself together.”
His jaw tenses, and once again, he takes inventory of everything around us. “There’s nothing to hang onto in your shower. What if you fall?”
My heart splutters and creates a little corner with his name tattooed on it. “I won’t fall, and I’ll be quick.”
His lips press together tightly enough to cause a tiny dimple in his chin. “The door stays open an inch, and I’ll be sitting right outside in case of an emergency.”
“Thane?”
He’s almost cautious in the way he looks at me now.
“Have you ever spent this much time taking care of someone else?”
“I’ve had Kara in my care for six months.”
“No, I mean, have you ever slept on someone’s floor, or cleaned up vomit, or carried someone to the bathroom?”
“Why would I do that?”
Once again, I find myself biting back a smile. “Exactly. Why did you do all that?”
Slowly, he begins to pace the small confines of my bathroom. I’m in awe of every corded muscle and the small tuft of chest hair that I want to drag my fingers through.
He clears his throat.
Of course he caught me staring at his dick. I’m probably drooling over the outline that’s quickly becoming more pronounced against the thin barrier that separates us.
I’m covered in sickness, and probably smell even worse, and yet, here I am, checking out the half-naked man in my bathroom.
“See something you like?”
A gulp is the only sound I’m capable of at the moment, so I drop my gaze to the floor.
“I asked you a question first. Why did you do all this?”
His bare feet thump against the cold tile floor, then his toes enter my vision. Even his feet are sexy. How is that possible?
He lifts my chin with the pads of his fingers, silently demanding I face him. His beautiful green eyes bounce to the techno beat I’m convinced must live inside his head as he studies me.
“The only reason I can come up with…” His voice is thick and hangs resonant in the air. “Is that I care, and I know it’s true because I haven’t cared about anyone but my sister and myself in a very long time. Maybe ever. But when I make my list, the needs I have are clear. I need to take care of you. I need to be wherever you are. I need to protect, and sooth, and encourage. Do I know how to do any of those things?” He shakes his head, and for the first time, I get the impression that he’s sad. “No. I don’t. But I know that this is real because nothing and no one has ever made me want to try to do these things. No one has ever been worth it for me to try. No one, until you.”
“Kara,” I croak. He’s done all of this for her too.
“Yes, Kara. And I’ll do everything I can to ensure she has a better start at life than I did, and yes, I care about her. But with you, it’s different. You’re a force I can’t deny, won’t deny. Nothing has ever pulled me into action as you do. That’s why I slept on your hard fucking floor. That’s why I put you in my clothes.” He smirks, and my tummy flips and flops, unable to settle. “Well, I also happen to really enjoy you in my clothes, so that was for me too. But no, I don’t do this for anyone else because you, my sweet little liar, are special.”
He walks to the door, and I’m frozen to the spot, unable to even blink.
“I’ll be right here.” He points to the door. “You have ten minutes before I check on you.”
And with that, he strides out my bathroom, then I hear him slide down the wall on the other side.
That’s the most emotive I’ve ever heard him, and he directed it all at me.
“Nine minutes, Lottie.” He doesn’t raise his voice, but the command is clear.
Now the ball’s in my court.
Whatever will I do?