Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
E than
“Ethan!” Coach Rodriguez shouts. “Are you sleepwalking out there?”
The sun drills into my eyes, and my head pounds, and I try to increase my speed, but my legs feel like they have weights attached to them. My footwork is atrocious as I weave through the cones, misjudging the distances and stumbling slightly with each abrupt turn.
It’s from lack of sleep, but it was worth it.
“Move, Ethan, move!” Coach Rodriguez’s shout snaps me back to the present, to the pathetic display of my body refusing to cooperate.
God, how did Lily survive months without sleep? I’m ready to collapse after a single night without it. I’ll probably need a nap if I plan to fuck her all night again.
“Practice is over for you, Harrington.” Coach Rodriguez’s voice makes me jump. “Hit the shower. I can’t watch any more of this. It’s pathetic.”
I shut my eyes and inhale a deep breath. Oh, well. It’s just one practice. And it means I’ll get to come home to Lily sooner.
“I’m not feeling well today,” I say to coach, but it’s a lie.
I feel better than I have in my whole life, like I’ve tuned into a higher frequency of existence.
Coach crosses his arms over his chest. “Oh, really? I never would have guessed.”
“I just need a full night’s sleep.”
But I won’t get it.
“You need to avoid getting drunk,” he says. “At least until the end of the season.”
I frown. “I’m not hungover.”
Coach rolls his eyes. “You think I haven’t seen this before? I expect it from the other guys, but not you. Do you have any idea, the position you’re in? How lucky you are?” He pulls his phone from his pocket. “Let me show you something.”
I already know what he’s about to show me. Some sports commentator critiquing my performance.
I fight the urge to roll my eyes. I shouldn’t be snapping at him, even if he did just wrongly accuse me of being hungover. It was a reasonable assumption, and in a way, I was drunk last night.
Drunk on Lily.
Coach presses play on his phone, and sure enough, a commentator starts talking. “The pressure is on this season for Harrington. He’s got to prove that he can do this on a consistent basis.”
“Do you understand what’s at stake here?” Coach asks.
“I do,” I say firmly.
“I don’t think that’s true,” he says. “You won the jackpot last year, Harrington. No one would have any idea who you are if it wasn’t for your incredible performance against Redwood State. Division II wide receivers don’t usually have scouts knocking on their door.”
I nod. “I understand. I really do.” The words are hollow, even to my own ears. “It’s just…I’ve got stuff going on.”
“Stuff,” he scoffs. “We’ve all got stuff going on. But how many of us have a shot like yours?” His eyes lock onto mine. “Get out of here. You’d better look alive tomorrow.”
“Understood,” I say before turning around and heading toward the locker room.
As I make my way off the field toward the benches, Mason, who just finished a drill, steps in front of me, his grin as sharp as ever.
Fuck. I’ve been using all my focus to forget his existence, but he seems to take any opportunity he can to taunt me.
What a fucking idiot. It’s almost like he wants to get pummeled.
“How’s Lily doing?” he drawls loud enough for everyone around to hear.
Anger flares up inside me, like it always does when he talks about her. How dare he. He ought to be wasting away in jail, not wanting to even think of her, let alone mention her name.
I take a deep breath, trying to think of a measured response. I glance over my shoulder to make sure Noah isn’t within earshot. Thankfully, he’s yards away doing a tackling drill with the linebackers. I turn back to Mason, clenching my jaw. “Keep her name out of your mouth.”
Mason’s eyes grow huge. “Oh, damn. She really got to you, didn’t she? Careful. Don’t let her get too close. You don’t want her making wild accusations that could ruin your whole football career just because she’s desperate for attention.”
An unholy rage fizzes through my veins, distorting the world around me. I retreat into my head in an attempt to calm myself.
Don’t hit him, Ethan. Lily wouldn’t want you to.
I take a step in his direction, lowering my chin, and shooting him a glare. “I know exactly who you are.” My voice is as quiet as the dead. “Believe me when I say you don’t want to push me, Mason. Cemeteries are full of people who thought they were invincible.”
His face leaches of color. “Holy, shit. A death threat from the Christian virgin.” He shakes his head. “She’s got you by the balls. You’re in for rude awakening. She’s a fucking liar, and you’re gonna find out?—”
I turn on my heel and walk away, my anger burning like an inferno in my chest. I can’t listen to him any longer, or I will hit him.
My quick shower does nothing to calm me, and my thoughts are still racing on the drive home. But as soon as I pull up in front of the frat house, the tension in my body starts to ebb.
Fuck, I love coming home to her.
When I jog up the steps of our porch, I’m startled by the sight of Lily. She’s sitting at the wicker table with a sketchbook in front of her. Aiden is sitting across from her, and she’s staring at his face as she brushes pencil strokes across the paper. He’s grinning at her like she’s the most adorable person in the world.
Jealousy rises like a storm within me, but I try to tamp it down. She is the most adorable person in the world, and I’m the man who gets to fuck her. Drawing and painting is what gives her life meaning, and it has nothing to do with me.
Crazy that I want every part of her to belong to me and only me. I never thought I was this possessive.
“Did you take a nap?” I ask Lily, my voice a touch sharper than I’d intended.
“Aiden begged me for a sketch.” She smiles lazily. Her eyes are unusually bright, and her face is flushed like it was on the beach. “I swindled him out of three-hundred bucks for it.”
“Swindled?” Aiden’s brows draw together, though he’s still smiling devilishly at her—the bastard. “You said that’s the going rate.”
“I lied,” she says. “But don’t worry, I’ll embellish your features and make you better looking. It’s my job to…” Her brow knits, and her eyes grow unfocused. “Shit. What was I saying?”
My gaze roams over her face. Something about her is off. She looks almost…feverish. When I catch sight of her shaking fingers, I snap into action. I march over and put my hand on her forehead. The skin under my hand is as hot as a stove. “Holy shit, Lily. You’re burning up.”
She looks at me with a confused frown. Then she chuckles, but it’s not her usual abandoned laughter. Fuck, I don’t like this. She’s not herself.
“Come on,” I say, grabbing her hand. “I’m putting you to bed.”
She stares at me for a long moment, as if processing my words slowly. “But…Aiden’s sketch.”
“You can finish it later,” Aiden says, now standing by the front door. “I don’t want any of those germs. Fuck, I hope I didn’t catch them already.” A moment later, he disappears inside the house.
“Oh no,” Lily mutters, staring at me with glazed eyes. “You might catch it too. I should go back to my sorority…”
I cross my arms over my chest and shoot her a stern expression. “You will not. I’m taking care of you. It’s too late for me already.” My lips quirk as I lower my voice. “I don’t know if you remember, but I had my mouth all over you last night. And this morning.”
Her eyes grow hooded. “You sure did, big guy. Ready for another marathon? Mama needs her loving.” She slaps her hand over her mouth and bursts into breathless giggles. “Mama. Loving. I’ve never used those words before. How cringe.”
Fuck, she’s acting weird. She seems almost drunk. Her fever must be really high.
“I’m not having sex with you when you’re sick.” I grab her hand and pull her up from her chair. When she’s finally standing, she wobbles a little. Anxiety prickles over my skin. Her eyes grow wide as I scoop her into my arms.
“My knight in shining armor.” Her head lolls against my shoulder, alarming me further.
“Your knight is about to take your temperature—” I carry her through the front door “—and if it’s as high as I think it is, he’s making you go to the campus clinic. No arguments.”
She scoffs “Ethan, you’re acting crazy. It’s just a fever. I refuse to let you torture me when I’m already not feeling good.”
“Too bad. If it’s any higher than 102, you’re going.”
When we make it to my bedroom, I rush over to the bed and lay her down gently. A lazy smile tugs at her lips. “Are you afraid I’m going to die, Ethan?”
My mouth drops open, and she bursts into giggles. “Oh my God, you really are.”
I scowl at her, irritation flaring in my veins. “People die of the flu, Lily. People even die of the common cold. It’s rare, but it happens.”
Her expression grows pitying, but I’m not even a little embarrassed for saying something so outrageous. I don’t want to think about Lily dying, even if the chances are extremely remote.
I need her like I need to breathe.
“Come here,” Lily says, gesturing at the bed. “I have something I need to tell you.”
I frown in confusion but follow her direction. When I sit down next to her, she reaches out and takes my hand. Her skin is clammy, giving me another flare of anxiety.
Her expression grows grave. “There will be no sappy songs played at my funeral. I want bangers only. In fact, the whole thing needs to be a dance party. Why aren’t you writing this down? These are my final wishes.”
The tension in my body eases at her joke, and warmth fills me everywhere. God, she’s cute. I thought I was good in a crisis, always able to take action, but it turns out, Lily is even better.
It feels like I’ve found a missing piece. I make a big deal out of nothing sometimes. It’s how I’m wired. It might help my productivity and problem solving, but it certainly doesn’t feel good. Lily softens my sharp edges with her silliness and ease.
Fuck. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to let her go.
I try to shake off the thought as I squeeze her hand. “Only if you come with me to the campus clinic. If not, I’ll make sure your funeral is the most depressing thing ever. An old church that smells like mildew. Organ music. Everyone wearing black and sobbing. I’ll get up on stage to give a eulogy, and I’ll talk about how you lit up a room.”
She makes a gagging sound, and I smile.
“But that’s not all,” I say. “I’ll tell them all how your smile made everything brighter, how you always knew how to make me laugh, even on my worst days. I’ll say you were the sunshine in my life, and without you, my whole world has turned to darkness.” Fuck, what am I doing baring my soul to her? My anxiety over her illness is making me lose my mind. “I'll tell them I was lost before you found me, and how you taught me that I was lacking something profound. Something I didn’t even know was missing until you.”
Her glazed eyes are fixed on my face. “What?”
I swallow. “Joy.”
When she intakes a sharp breath, I drop her hand, and stand up from the bed. What the hell was that? Now is not the time for sappy confessions. I need to take care of her.
“Alright, I’m getting the thermometer.” Without looking at her face, I head out of my room and into the kitchen. I grab the first aid kit from a high shelf in the pantry, fumble with the latch, and yank out the digital thermometer. In what feels like a split second later, I’m putting it inside Lily’s mouth. My hands shake as I maneuver it under her tongue.
The numbers on the screen shoot up immediately to over a hundred. The wait is agony as they slow and settle on a single number.
One hundred…and four.
My stomach plummets to the floor. “Holy shit, Lily! This is the highest fever I’ve ever seen.”
She sets her hand on my shoulder, and that pitying smile has returned to her face. “My fevers always run high. I can text my mom right now and have her back me up if you’re worried. I promise I’m not dying.”
I shake my head, my thoughts growing dazed. “I think we should go to the emergency room.”
“No.” Her voice is sharp.
I turn to her with a scowl. “It might be a sign of something serious…like sepsis. I don’t think you understand. This is a really high fever.”
She frowns incredulously. “Sepsis? Are you crazy? Ethan, I’m starting to think you might be one of those doomsday people.” She glances around my bedroom. “Where are your canned beans?”
Her sass is comforting, a sign that she’s still herself. If she were septic, she’d likely be too listless to ridicule me. Still, I’m not good at compromise, but taking her to the ER when she’s refusing to cooperate might do more harm than good. Her body needs to rest if she’s going to fight off whatever is causing this fever.
“Fine,” I say. “We’ll go to the clinic.”