Chapter 23 Scarlett
TWENTY-THREE
SCARLETT
I wake to the feeling of arms wrapped around me, a solid chest against my back.
I’m groggy, my thoughts swimming through mud. I’m also weak, thirsty, and my stomach is cramping. When I groan, the arm around me tightens to pull me closer.
And then I hear a startled breath and feel weight shift on the bed.
“What is it? What do you need?”
Sleepily, I blink my eyes open. It’s daytime, the bedroom bathed in light and the sounds of the city loud outside the windows.
“Nico?” I ask with a yawn.
“Yeah, baby. I’m here.”
Even the sound of his voice makes me feel better. With a content sigh, I turn onto my side and burrow into his arms.
I feel a kiss pressed to my hair and a hand brushed down my arm.
“How do you feel? Can I get you anything?”
At the repeated question, I sigh and try to focus. Why do I need to focus again? Why am I being asked questions?
And then the memories of last night hit me.
I jerk back, my eyes widening in horror.
I was with Nico last night. I got sick with Nico last night. On him.
“Oh my gosh.” I try to put as much distance between us as possible, but since I sleep in a ball on the edge of the bed, there’s nowhere for me to go. All I can do is hold the blanket up to cover my body.
My body that’s clothed in Nico’s sweats.
God, they smell good.
He lets out a giant yawn and wipes the sleep from his eyes. “What’s wrong?”
I gape at him. And not because he’s not wearing a shirt right now. “What’s wrong? What’s wrong is, I got sick last night.”
Still rubbing one eye, he frowns. “I’m aware. Which is why I’m asking how you feel.”
“I—” I feel like crap. But there’s no chance I’m telling him that. It’s bad enough I ruined our date. “I’m fine. Why are you in bed with me?”
He freezes at that, his frown deepening. “I didn’t want to leave you unsupervised,” he says carefully. He’s watching me, cataloguing my reactions the way he always does. “But I can leave if you need space. After you tell me the truth about how you’re feeling.”
Just like that, all energy leaves my body. I drop into a seated heap on the bed.
“I’m okay,” I say in a small voice. Truthfully, this time. “Just tired. And thirsty. And I feel gross.”
I run my tongue over my teeth and feel the gritty remnants of a night spent puking.
Mother would be so disappointed in me.
Somehow, I can’t summon the will to care.
About her, not Nico. I hate that Nico saw—is seeing—me like this.
“I need a shower,” I admit. “Do you have a towel I can use?”
He nods and gets out of the bed. If I wasn’t so dehydrated, I’d drool over the sight of him shirtless and barefoot, wearing light grey sweatpants.
“I have a bathtub if you’d prefer that,” he says as he goes into his closet. “I think you mentioned liking baths.”
I let out a groan I can’t hold back. “I would kill for a bath.”
His chuckle floats behind him as he walks into what I assume is the ensuite bathroom. “Coming right up.”
Flopping back onto his pillows, I let out a big exhale. This is so not how I wanted last night to go. But I’m too tired to give in to the brewing freakout, so I try to just breathe and revel in the fact that I feel somewhat human again. Thank God, it was only—
Wait, how long have I been here?
I have no idea where I left my purse and phone, but Nico’s is on the nightstand. When I tap it and the screen lights up, the time shines back at me.
2:53 p.m.
I jolt to a sitting position. Shoot. It’s been twenty hours.
I don’t have anything on my schedule today, but I have no idea what Nico’s looks like. His date was technically only scheduled until eight a.m.
“Don’t you have to go to the gym or something?” I call out. “Did I take over your entire day?”
Nico appears in the doorway, towel slung over his shoulder and a toothbrush in his mouth. When he leans against the doorframe and continues to brush his teeth, I nearly combust at the sight.
Why did nobody tell me casual is attractive on a man?
“I worked out while you were still sleeping,” he says, his mouth full. “The beauty of having a gym in the building.”
Guilt sits heavy in my stomach. “But you were supposed to go to your gym today, weren’t you,” I say, not a question. “I messed up your plans.”
He leans out of my view for a second, and I hear him spit into the sink. “It was my decision, Scarlett,” he says simply. “And I stand by it.” Then he’s walking toward me in all his half-naked glory. “Now come on, I’ll grab some fresh clothes and make you some food while you take a bath.”
“You don’t—”
He pulls me to my feet and tugs me toward the bathroom. “I don’t want to hear it, Red.”
Oh, God. My lipstick.
For the first time, I get a look of myself in the mirror.
I look exactly as bad as I was scared I would.
Mortified, I turn and shove Nico out of the bathroom so I can close the door behind him. “Oh my God, don’t look at me!”
I can hear his chuckle through the door. “Baby, you couldn’t look bad even if you tried. But I’ll leave you alone for a minute. I laid out a few things for you on the counter.”
When I turn around, I see an unopened toothbrush, toothpaste, some mouthwash, and a separate glass of water. Next to the steaming bathtub, there’s a fresh towel and a comb on the small side table.
Are all men this thoughtful?
I’ve never met one this thoughtful.
Sighing, I set to cleaning myself up. I look wrecked from a night of vomiting; my hair a rat’s nest and my makeup is either smeared or nonexistent.
After I brush my teeth twice and rinse with mouthwash—also twice—I drink some of the water before peeling off my clothes. Everything hurts. My abs hurt. My skin hurts to touch. But as soon as I sink into the too-hot water, I let out a deep groan of relief.
“Temperature okay?” I hear through the door.
My eyes slide closed. “It’s perfect,” I slur. “What did you put in here?”
“Just some Epsom salts. Figured you’d be sore.”
“You’d be correct,” I say through a light moan, sinking deeper into the water.
After a moment, Nico asks, “Can I come in?”
“I’m naked.” But my tone is flat. I couldn’t care less about being naked in front of him. This feels too good.
“Baby, I’ve seen every inch of you. Tasted every inch of you.”
“Now is not the time to make sexual innuendos, Nicholas.”
His huff of laughter makes me smile. “Yes, you can come in,” I call out before I can think better of it.
I hear the door open and sense Nico stepping into the not very large space. When I crack an eye open, he’s standing beside the tub with a plate in his hand.
“Feel better?”
I nod, eyeing the plate. “What’s that?”
He doesn’t answer, just pulls a stool over from who knows where and takes a seat beside the tub. Then he picks something off the plate and holds it out to me.
It’s a strawberry.
“You brought me fruit?” I ask as I reach for it with one hand. When he holds the strawberry out of reach, I frown.
Then he holds it to my lips, and I understand.
“You cannot be real.” But I bite the fruit from his fingers, letting out a content sigh when the flavor and much-needed liquid explode on my tongue.
He holds another bite to my lips—mango this time—and I take that one, too. After the third bite of watermelon, I sink back into the water. But it isn’t until he reaches for a wet cloth that my confusion and insecurity come roaring back to the forefront.
“Nico…” My voice is small, and unsure. He knows what I’m going to say without me having to say it.
“Just let me take care of you,” he says softly, brushing the cloth over my shoulders. “Stop thinking so much.”
I swallow thickly, my eyes suddenly stinging. “I’m sorry we missed your plans last night,” is the only thing I can bring myself to whisper.
And Nico, the sweet, beautiful, perfect man he is, just smiles.
“I’m not.” When I frown up at him, he explains, “This whole time, I’ve been trying to come up with dates that a man wouldn’t pay for, that you’d finally believe weren’t for me, but because I wanted to date you. And you handed me the perfect one on a silver platter.”
I let out a laugh, relief and giddiness washing over me like a wave. “What, me vomiting all night long and forcing you to cancel your life to clean up after me?”
He brushes a kiss over the back of my hand. “Exactly,” he whispers with a smile.
My head falls back against the porcelain, my smile still firmly in place. “You’re a hard man to argue with, Nico Price.”
Something flashes in his eyes. Something I don’t recognize.
But then it softens into something more familiar, a playfulness I’ve come to love.
“I hate to tell a woman not to argue with me, but…in this case, I think it goes without saying.”
We spend the rest of the day lounging together.
We watch movies on the couch, cuddled under a blanket and sharing bites of the dinner Nico ordered: a nearby Mexican restaurant with arguably the best tacos I’ve ever had.
Slowly, my strength comes back, one bite at a time. I wouldn’t normally let myself eat something like this, but between my sickness and this bizarre situation, it feels easier to make food decisions without so much overthinking.
I’ll run the extra miles tomorrow.
Right now, I don’t want to think about anything but Nico. I want to exist in this space with him, just for a little while. I want to enjoy him without the outside world and its pressures. I want to enjoy myself with him.
“You know what I was thinking about?” I muse, taking Nico’s offered bite of chips and guacamole.
“What’s that?” he hums. But he’s looking at my lips as he says it.
“How didn’t you get sick? Isn’t the stomach bug highly contagious?”
He snorts as he scoops out a chip for himself. “Trust me, I had the same thought. I kept panicking that I’d catch it, and then you’d wake up out of your coma only to find me in one.”
I shiver at the thought. “That would’ve been awful. I would’ve felt so guilty.”
I don’t understand why Nico gets quiet until he asks without meeting my eyes, “Would you have stayed to take care of me?”
At first, my eyes widen. Of course, I would’ve stayed to take care of him.