Chapter 21
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
JORDAN
I shut the apartment door and carry the bag of stuff Lucas dropped off back to Jo’s bedroom, detouring to the kitchen to grab a glass of ice water.
Back in Jo’s room, I set everything on her nightstand and sit on the edge of her bed. Leaning down, I press a kiss to her forehead, feeling the heat radiating off her. When I smooth her hair back from her face, tucking it behind her ear, she stirs, and her eyes flutter open.
“Jordan?” Her voice is barely a whisper, but just hearing it has a cascade of relief flooding my system.
“Hey, Hurricane.” I lay a hand on her cheek, and she closes her eyes again, wincing as she lets out another deep, raspy cough.
“I don’t feel good,” she whispers, her eyes opening again. “Everything hurts.”
“I know, sweetheart. I’ll take care of you, I promise. Do you think you can sit up and drink some water for me? I’ll help you.” Jo nods, and I slide an arm under her, helping her sit up against her pillows. I pick up the ice water and bring the glass to her lips, helping her take a couple of sips until she pushes it away and lays her head back against the pillow, as if the effort of drinking exhausted her.
“How are you here?” she mumbles, her eyes dropping closed.
“You didn’t text me all day, and when I tried to call, you didn’t answer, so I came over when I was done at the hospital. Your door was unlocked, and I came in and found you here.”
Jo’s eyes open again, and her hand reaches out and grasps mine. I flip my hand over and link our fingers together, laying my free hand on top of hers. When she looks at me, there’s an apology in her eyes. “I’m so sorry I didn’t text you or answer your calls. You must have been really worried.”
That she understands I would have been worried where a typical person probably wouldn’t have been has my chest tightening with emotion, those roots digging themselves in a little deeper. Keeping one of my hands in hers, I cup her face with my other hand and kiss her forehead again, then lean my forehead against hers, needing to be close to her. To reassure myself.
She’s here.
She’s safe.
She’ll be okay.
“Don’t be sorry, Jo Jo. You’re right here, and so am I.”
She lets out a sigh that ends in a coughing fit, and I sit up, my hand still on her cheek. “I want to test you for the flu and listen to your lungs, okay? Then I have some meds that should make you feel better.”
She gives me a weak smile, and a shiver wracks her body. I pull the covers up higher and tuck them around her shoulders. “I guess if I have to be sick, it’s a good thing my bestie is a doctor.”
My brain immediately rejects the term bestie , and I have to practically bite my tongue to keep from spilling all my complicated feelings right at Jo’s feet. To keep from slicing myself open and telling her how much I want to be more than just friends but how terrified I am to open up and let myself feel like that again. There’s time for all of that, but right now, I need to get her well.
“At your service, Hurricane.” I reach over and grab the bag Lucas brought over, setting it on the bed. Rummaging around in it, I find a thermometer, a box of flu tests, and a stethoscope.
I hand her the thermometer first. “Put this under your tongue.”
She does, and when it beeps, I take it and glance at the display. One hundred and three.
“Your fever is pretty high—I’m almost positive you have the flu, but I want to test you to make sure, okay?”
Jo nods and closes her eyes again. I open the box, setting up the testing vial. I swab the inside of her nose as gently as I can and stick it in the vial, swirling it around, and then I squeeze a couple of drops of the liquid onto the testing strip and set it aside. Grabbing the stethoscope, I run my thumb across her jaw until she opens her eyes.
“Can you lean forward for me? I want to listen to your lungs.”
She leans forward and props her forehead on her hands like she needs help holding it up. I cup the chest piece of the stethoscope in my hand to warm it up before I press it to her back, under her shirt, and she shivers again.
“Cold,” she mutters.
“I know. I’m so sorry. It’ll be quick. Take a couple of deep breaths for me, sweetheart.”
She does, and the wheezing is immediately obvious. I don’t love the way it sounds, but if she has the flu, it’s par for the course. Taking off the stethoscope and tossing it aside, I help her lay back and slide a pulse oximeter onto her finger. It’s a little low but not super concerning, considering how bad her lungs sound. Glancing over at the nightstand, the positive flu test is unmistakable. I’m relieved that at least I know what I’m dealing with.
“Okay, Hurricane, you’ve definitely got the flu.”
“Fuck,” Jo mutters, eyes still closed. “I hate being sick. Sick means stuck in bed, and that’s the worst.” Suddenly her eyes fly open, and she looks distressed. “Midsummer Night Swing. We missed it.”
I chuckle because—that’s my girl.
My girl . It sounds good. Right. Settling, almost.
“I promise you can take me swing dancing when you feel better, but right now, we need to get you well.”
She opens her mouth to protest, but when what comes out is another coughing fit, she slumps back against her pillows in defeat. I grab the little albuterol inhaler from the bag and hold it up. “Have you ever used one of these?”
Jo nods. “I had bronchitis a few years ago, and they gave me one to help with the coughing.”
“Okay, great.” I hand it to her. “One puff and breathe in. Hold it for five seconds, let it out, and then do it again.”
While she does the inhaler, I pull out Tylenol and an antiviral and shake the pills into my hand. When she sets down the inhaler, I pick up her water, hand her the glass, and then the Tylenol. “Swallowing pills isn’t going to feel the best on your throat, but this will bring your fever down and make you more comfortable.”
Jo swallows the pills and makes a face. “Fuck, that hurts.”
“I know. Just a couple more. These are antivirals.” I hand her the other pills. “Since you just got sick this afternoon, if you take them now, it should decrease the length of your symptoms. You won’t be sick for as long.”
“Say less,” Jo rasps and grabs the pills, swallowing them down and handing me back the glass. I set it on the nightstand and turn back to her.
“Do you want to lie back down? I can help you.”
She shakes her head, letting her eyes fall closed. “It’s easier to breathe when I’m sitting up.”
Securing the comforter more firmly around her, I shift on the bed so I can reach the bag of medical supplies, but before I can grab it, Jo’s hand shoots out from under the blanket and grabs my arm.
“J,” she says, eyes closed, her voice low and still a little raspy.
I cover her hand with mine. “Yeah?”
“Can you…stay, maybe? I hate being alone when I’m sick.”
My heart does a slow roll in my chest. “Of course I can, Hurricane. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Sit with me?” she asks.
“Anything.” I kick my shoes off and walk around to the other side of the bed. Climbing on, I settle in next to Jo with my back against the headboard. I slide an arm around her, and she shifts, curling into me and laying her head on my shoulder.
“Thank you,” she mutters, reaching out and linking her hand with mine. “Feels better with you here.”
I lean down and kiss the top of her head, squeezing her hand, warmth flooding me at her proximity. At the way she asked me to stay and at how I can be what she needs. I like being needed by her. “Hurricane, here is the only place I want to be.”
Jo drifts back to sleep, her breaths evening out and her head heavy on my shoulder. As the sun sets and the bedroom grows darker, I watch over Jo as she sleeps, secure in the belief that I am exactly where I’m supposed to be.
* * *
The coughing wakes me from a sound sleep. The room is pitch black, and a glance at the clock tells me it’s almost two in the morning. Jo’s body shakes against mine as she coughs, and the heat coming from her is a sign that the medicine must have worn off.
Jo shifts, and I feel, rather than see, her wince. “My chest hurts,” she mumbles. “Everything hurts. I’m all hot and sweaty, and I’m freezing. How is that even possible?”
I pull her closer, running a hand up and down her back. “It’s the fever. The medicine brought it down, but you’ve been sleeping for a while, so it’s worn off. I’ll grab you some more, and if you want, I can run the shower really hot, and you can sit in the bathroom in the steam. It’ll help your chest.”
“My mom used to do that for me when I was little and got sick.” Jo’s sentence ends on a cough, and she buries her head in my chest, tightening her arm across my stomach. I could catch the flu from her and be in bed for two weeks straight after this, and it would be worth it just for these moments of having her right here, taking her comfort from me. It’s everything I didn’t know I needed.
I smile against the top of her head. “It’s tried and true.”
“Okay.”
“Let me get everything set up, then I’ll help you in.” I climb off the bed and take Jo’s empty glass to the kitchen, refilling it with ice water. Back in her room, I give her more Tylenol before I go to the bathroom and turn on the shower as hot as it will go, closing the door to let the steam fill the room.
Grabbing a blanket from the couch, I throw it over my shoulder, then carry a chair in from the living room, setting it down in the bathroom.
Jo’s eyes open when I sit on the side of the bed. “Can you sit up? I’ll help you walk to the bathroom.”
She nods, sitting up and swinging her legs over the side of the bed, shoving her long hair out of her eyes with an irritated noise. Grabbing a hair tie from her nightstand, I gather the sweat-dampened strands and pull them into a high ponytail, securing it with the hair tie. When I’m done, Jo stares at me. “Did you just do my hair?”
I shrug. “I mean, kind of? I thought maybe you would want your hair off your neck. It’ll be hot in the bathroom.”
“God, Allie really taught you well,” Jo mutters, her voice full of wonder and her eyes studying my face like she’s seeing me for the first time.
It should be weird hearing the woman I have big feelings for say the name of the woman I thought I would spend the rest of my life with, but it’s not. The way Jo brings Allie up in conversation, says her name, is curious about my life with her, and is interested in it makes me feel like I can have this new part of my life with Jo, all without losing the memories of the first woman I loved. And I fall just a little bit more.
“Well, how to do a ponytail at least.”
Jo smirks at me. It loses a little of its effect when the smirk devolves into a coughing fit, but she recovers quickly. “And also how to change a woman’s clothes while she sleeps? I’m suddenly noticing I’m wearing pajamas, and I know I didn’t put these on myself.”
I glance down at the floor, feeling my cheeks heat. “When I first got here, your clothes were all sweaty. I wanted you to be comfortable while you slept. I didn’t…check you out or anything. Promise.”
Jo’s eyes search my face like she’s looking for something. I don’t know if she finds it, but she shrugs and with her gaze holding mine, says, “I wouldn’t have minded if you did.”
Fuck .
Half the blood in my body rushes south, and that Jo can make my cock hard with a smirk and a single sentence while she has the flu and a sky-high fever tells me pretty much everything I need to know.
I’m in deep.
I clear my throat and try to will my dick to behave. “We’re going to revisit that later.”
Jo’s eyes flash, and what I see in them has my heart lodging itself in my throat. She feels what I feel. I know it as strongly as if she spoke the words out loud into the silence between us. This is happening. She just has to get well first. “Let’s get you into the bathroom.”
I take a couple of steps towards her, and she shakes her head, setting her mouth in a stubborn line. “I’m a grown ass woman, J. I can walk myself to the bathroom.” She stands from the bed and immediately wavers on her feet, sitting back down heavily and blowing out a breath. “Okay, I was just kidding.”
I run a hand over her head and down her ponytail. “You have the flu, Hurricane. That’s not nothing. Let me help you?”
She nods and I reach down, lifting her up with one arm around her back and the other under her knees. I carry her into the steamy bathroom and kick the door shut behind us, sitting down in the chair I set up and situating Jo on my lap. She curls against me and lays her head on my shoulder, wrapping her arms around my torso.
She breathes in the humid air deeply and lets it out with a little sigh, like it feels good to breathe in the steam.
“You carried me to the bathroom,” Jo mumbles, her warm breath fluttering over my skin.
I slide an arm around her waist and stroke her hair with my other hand. “I did.”
“And you came over and got me all the medicine and stuff and let me sleep on you, and now you’re letting me drape myself all over you even though this bathroom is four hundred degrees and you’re probably really hot and uncomfortable.” I hear the wondering in her statement. The questions she doesn’t ask.
Why?
What’s happening?
What is this?
What could it be?
I know because they’re the same ones I have too. I don’t have all the answers, but looking down into Jo’s face, she’s so beautiful it makes my chest ache, and I know one thing with absolute certainty, and that knowing settles me right down to my bones.
“Hurricane, there is literally nowhere in the entire world I would rather be right now than right here with you.”