Chapter 4 #2
Loose cotton boxers complete the outfit, not the sexy kind I wear for shows, but the comfortable kind with a worn elastic waistband. The kind I wear when no one’s watching.
The five-minute warning goes off, startling me. I don’t remember hearing the fifteen-minute or the ten-minute warning.
My heartbeat quickens with the sudden need to rush, and my head rushes with dizziness.
I position the laptop at the head of the table, angling the screen to capture me but not the messy kitchen visible in the background.
The camera shows a tight frame of me, the table, and the warm lamp glow.
I’d prefer to be curled up in bed like usual, but if I do that, I’ll pass out before our session even starts.
I plug in the external microphone, the kind that filters background noise and smooths out my voice.
Two minutes.
I slump into the chair, exhaustion washing over me in waves. The medicine hasn’t kicked in yet, or maybe it’s not strong enough to combat this illness. My eyelids grow heavy, my thoughts sluggish.
One minute.
I straighten my spine, running fingers through my hair to tame it. The sweater collar gets adjusted to hide the fever flush creeping up my neck. I practice a smile that doesn’t reveal how much it hurts to stay upright.
The chime sounds, indicating an incoming call. GentlemanX, right on time as always.
I take a deep breath, ignoring the rattle in my chest, and click to connect.
The screen flickers, GentlemanX’s broad shoulders and large hands coming into view. His nails are manicured, with a dusting of dark hair on his knuckles. These are the hands I imagine on me when I play to the camera.
“Hello, Elliot.” His warm greeting flows through my speakers, wrapping around me like a weighted blanket.
“Hey, there.” I wince at the way the words scrape my raw throat. “You’re right on time.”
“Always.” His hands fold on his desktop. “How was your day?”
My fingers grip the edge of the table to steady myself. “Busy. Productive.”
“The stream went well?”
Heat that has nothing to do with fever rises to my cheeks. I guess he didn’t log in tonight, which I’m thankful for. It wasn’t my best performance. “It went fine.”
“Hmm.” The noncommittal sound carries a note of skepticism. “You seem tired tonight.”
I force a laugh, reaching for my water glass. “That obvious, huh?”
“To me? Yes.” His hand lifts toward the screen, as if touching my cheek. “You’re pale, except for two spots of color high on your cheeks. Your voice is strained. And your eyes are unfocused.”
The water slips down my throat, offering momentary relief from the burning inside. “Observant as always.”
“It’s my job to pick up on details.” His hand falls away. “Are you unwell, Elliot?”
My mouth opens to deny it, but I can’t bring myself to lie. “It’s nothing serious. A cold, maybe. I took some medicine before you called.”
“You should be resting,” he chastises. “Not entertaining me.”
“This isn’t entertainment.” The words escape before I can filter them. “I wanted to talk to you.”
A beat of silence follows, filled with meanings neither of us acknowledge.
“Did you eat before taking your medicine?” he asks finally.
I curl one leg up onto the chair to hug my knee. “I had some leftover pad Thai before the stream.”
“Soup with ginger would be better. That’s what I always eat when I’m sick.”
Warmth unfurls in my chest. I live for these little tidbits about his life that hint at the kind of loving home I only ever watched on television.
“Tell me about your day,” I suggest, desperate to shift attention away from my condition.
GentlemanX tilts his head, the movement bringing his collar bone into frame. “Meetings. Phone calls. A minor security breach that required my attention.”
“Anything exciting?”
“Nothing worth sharing.” His fingers tap an idle rhythm on the table’s edge. “Though my brother and cousins continue to be sources of entertainment.”
Over months of conversations, he’s spoken about how the confirmed bachelors in his family have fallen one by one into mate bonds.
“You’re going to be an uncle soon, right?” I ask, attempting to uphold my side of the conversation.
“In just a few weeks now.” He adjusts his position again, leaning closer to the camera. “You’re shivering.”
I hadn’t noticed until he mentioned it, but now I feel the tremors running through my body. My teeth nearly chatter as I respond, “The air conditioning. It’s nothing.”
“Elliot.” The easy rhythm of his speech falters with concern. “How long have you been ill?”
“It’s nothing—” The denial crumbles as another shiver racks my frame, strong enough that it rattles the table my shin rests against. “Since this afternoon. It came out of nowhere.”
“Have you taken your temperature?”
I avoid the camera, focusing instead on dabbing at the spilled water. “It’s nothing to worry about.”
“Answer the question.” The Alpha Command is subtle but undeniable.
“It was 101.4, a couple of hours ago.” The admission comes with reluctance. “It’s probably gone down since I took the medicine.”
His sigh fills my speakers, tinged with frustration. “And you still did your stream?”
The room tilts, and I drop my leg back to the floor for balance. “I need the money.”
“You should go to the hospital.”
I laugh, the sound bitter even to my own ears. “With what insurance? The urgent care clinic costs three hundred dollars just to walk through the door.”
“I can—”
“No.” The word comes out sharper than intended. “No financial offers, remember? That was our agreement.”
His shoulders tense, the expensive fabric of his sweater pulling taut across them. “You’re being stubborn.”
“I’m being practical.” My stomach rolls, and I swallow hard against the nausea. “I’ve had fevers before. It’ll pass.”
GentlemanX falls silent, but his disapproval radiates through the screen. He adjusts his cuffs, the fidgety motion speaking of restrained frustration.
“At least promise you’ll rest after our call,” he says at last.
The room wobbles again, colors blurring at the edges of my vision. “Of course.”
“And call your friend, Saint, if it gets worse.”
I nod, the motion sending another spike of dizziness through me. The lamp light feels too bright, its warm glow becoming painful for my retinas. Sweat beads at my hairline despite the chills wracking my body.
“You need to lie down.” His command comes from far away, though the laptop sits inches from me. “Now, Elliot.”
“I’m okay.” The words slur. “Tell me more about your pregnant brother-in-law.”
“Elliot.” His concern transforms into alarm. “Your eyes are glassy. How high is your fever right now?”
The question penetrates the thickening fog in my brain. “Not sure. Might be higher.”
“End this call and go to bed. Right now.”
My fingers fumble for my water glass, determined to prove I’m fine. “After we finish our call.”
“Dammit, Elliot!” His hand slams down on his table, the impact vibrating through my speakers. “This isn’t a negotiation. You need medical attention.”
His vehemence startles me.
“Okay, we’ll go to the bed.” I plant my palms on the table to push myself up, and the world tilts as I rise.
Colors smear across my vision, swirling and bleeding together. The floor beneath me drops away, gravity shifting sideways, and my legs buckle, refusing to support my weight.
“Elliot?” GentlemanX’s shout echoes, as if coming from the bottom of a well. “Elliot!”
A roaring fills my ears, drowning out his words. My body slips out of alignment, both weightless and leaden. The last thing I register is the table edge rushing toward my face, and then—
Nothing.