Chapter 20
W hat was that sound? Why did my head weigh a million pounds? Had I tried to swallow sandpaper? Why was my nose not working? And why did every part of my body feel achy?
These questions dug their way into my consciousness as I tried to sit up in bed.
Too hard.
I’ll go back to sleep. Yes, sleep is good.
Ding-ding-ding.
That sound! Not again. Who the heck was at my door? My eyes fell shut again.
Ding-ding. Ding-ding-ding.
Growling, I somehow managed to get into a sitting position and then slowly lumbered to my feet. I located my slippers by my bedroom door alongside a large pile of laundry—clean or dirty, who knew?—and stepped into them as I struggled to keep my balance amid the swirling headache.
Ding-ding.
Ugh, this better be extremely important. It’d better not be a social call from the chatty neighbor, Jenna. Or anyone else. Hazel knew I’d called off sick, so it wouldn’t be her, surely.
I pulled the door half-open with great effort, wishing for the hundredth time that I had a peephole.
Was I seeing things? It looked like Jeff. I squinted and moved a bit closer. Yeah, that looked like Jeff, standing there with a large, hunter-green messenger bag over his shoulder.
“Oh, it’s you.” I yawned. “Nobody ever visits me. Hardly anyone knows where I live. I thought you were my annoying neighbor. Her name is Jenna. Best to avoid her.”
I thought he was going to laugh for a moment, but his face became more serious. “Roxy, are you OK?”
“Uh, sure,” I said, knowing and not caring how obvious my lie was. I probably looked like death, but I was too tired to be self-conscious. “What are you doing here, Jeffrey?”
“Can I come in?”
“Uh … I’m sick. You don’t want my germs.”
“I do, actually,” he said. At least that’s what it sounded like, but I must have heard wrong over the pounding in my head.
“Sorry about canceling this morning. Or yesterday morning, sorry,” I said slowly. “Hazel made me take a sick day.”
“She sent me over with some files.”
“What? What files?”
Jeff stepped toward me, and I stepped aside. He took the opportunity to walk into my apartment. Awareness zinged through me. Why was he in my apartment?
“First, let’s get you some medicine. You look like you haven’t had any, at least not for a while.”
I scratched my head, feeling my tangled hair. “I think … maybe yesterday?”
“We have to know for sure, not maybe. Otherwise, you could overdose.”
I laughed weakly. “You’re kinda cute, Jeffrey.”
Did I actually say that? I was too tired to care. I thought I detected a tiny wisp of a smile from him, but I very well could’ve imagined it.
“Thank you. But I’m serious. Are you sure you don’t remember?” The frown was back.
“Don’t be mad,” I pleaded.
“I’m not mad, Roxy. I just—”
“Wait, I have an idea. I’ll be right back.” I padded to my room and over to the nightstand. I picked up the box of NyQuil, realizing it was unopened.
“Jeff, good news!” I said as I turned to go find him in the other room.
But I nearly slammed into his chest before putting my hands out, landing on his chest, which was … firmer than I thought it would be. Not that I’d ever thought about it.
Liar.
I bounced back, letting my hands fall to my sides. “Oh, I didn’t know you’d followed me in there.” I frowned, my hands tingling for some reason.
“What were you doing?” he asked, and then he touched my forehead with the back of his hand before moving to my cheek.
And I couldn’t talk. What I suspect was a mild fever before was now burning up. “I … what?”
He removed his hand from my face and watched me closely before his lips twitched. “I was checking for fever. It’s probably mild. But are you all right?”
“I’m … you’re baiting me, aren’t you? Sometimes you’re so mean.”
“Only sometimes?”
My eyes flashed. “See, you’re doing it again!”
He sighed. “If you say so.”
I rolled my eyes. “That’s code for I disagree but don’t want to deal with this argument .” When his eyebrows rose, I realized I’d said that out loud. Or I’d slurred it aloud. For some reason, this seemed hilarious, so I burst out laughing.
He shook his head, but with a hint of a smile. “Listen, Roxy, I do need to know if you’ve had any medicine recently. Was there a reason you came in here?”
“Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you … uh, last night, I took the last one. See, there’s the empty one on the floor. And this box here on the nightstand is not open.”
He nodded slowly. “OK, I see. That’s some pretty advanced logic for someone who is so unlike herself that she said I was cute.” And then he smiled.
He smiled!
And I completely forgot what he said, but my face felt like it was on fire. I think I just did something embarrassing, but I don’t care because that smile .
He was never unattractive before. But he usually looked about ten years older than he actually was because of the constant frown and creases between his brows, the always buttoned-up business attire, the perfectly groomed hair and face, and the no-nonsense tone he always took.
But outside of work, he was different. He not only acted different but also looked different. Better in both ways. Come to think of it, he’d been acting somewhat different at work too. He was a lot more complicated than I ever would’ve guessed.
And that smile.
“What?” I asked, unsure if he’d even asked me anything.
His face was full of concern again. “Why don’t you lie down, and I’ll fetch you some things. You don’t even have water in here.”
“I can take care of myself, Jeff,” I said, stifling a yawn. “You don’t need to be here.”
He winced, and then his face softened. “How often do you let people take care of you, Roxy?”
“What are you …” I trailed off. Why was he asking me that?
“It’s not a sinister question. I’m just sensing you have a tough time accepting help.”
“I don’t—” At his raised eyebrows, I sighed. “Well, doesn’t everyone?”
“Some people don’t find it hard to accept help.
Apparently. Not that I’d know.” He rubbed his jaw.
Did he have the faintest hint of stubble?
I squinted and leaned forward to get a better look, but he moved back.
“Roxy, I just want to help. Let’s not argue over this too.
We can have this argument tomorrow, OK? Or any other time you want.
Please just lie down, get comfortable, and wait for me to return. ”
I stared at him with half-open eyes. Who was this man?
“Please?” he asked as one hand absently rubbed his sleeve.
“Hey, you don’t have to ask me twice,” I said, as though he wasn’t being extremely confusing and weird (and, in turn, so was I).
“I did ask twice,” he muttered under his breath. But I heard him because he was inches from my face as he leaned over to pull the covers that were bunched up on the other side of the bed, gently tugging them up to my neck.
Had I ever been this close to him before? I could see the curve of his jaw, the rich swirls of color and shape in his eyes, the muscles in his … well, everything.
I could lean forward and …
My heart pounded in my chest.
No!
No, no, no.
Suddenly, Jeff reared back.
I bit my lip. At least, I think it was my lip. “What’s wrong? Do I smell gross?”
“No, you … you just had a look of horror all the sudden. I assumed I was the offender.”
“No, you don’t smell gross. Quite the opposite, actually.” I could still smell his faint woodsy cologne, kind of surprising for a guy like him but definitely not a bad thing.
He eyed me for a moment as the corners of his mouth lifted. “OK. Why the—you know what? It doesn’t matter. I’ll be back in a bit with a glass of water so you can take the medicine.”
“But—” I started and then stopped, realizing he wasn’t going to hear me. Or if he did, he’d ignore me.
What was he even doing here? This was so embarrassing. Probably much worse than I even realized because I was more than a little stuffy-headed and exhausted.
A minute later—or who knows, since I couldn’t trust my judgment of time now—Jeff returned with a cup of water and a separate cup of ice. When I raised my eyebrows, he set the cups on the nightstand and started to open the medicine package. “I know you like ice water, so I brought ice.”
He knew I liked ice water? I tried to remember; we’d rarely shared meals. Other than that recent one, at his house. I swallowed painfully, realizing most people liked ice water, so this didn’t signify. “Uh, why not just, I don’t know, put the ice in the water then?”
“Because I didn’t know if you’d want it now or if you’d get chills or something,” he said while handing me the cold medicine. “So, ice or no?”
“Uh, no?”
When had anyone ever been so thoughtful to me? Other than maybe Julia. I must be hallucinating.
“Hallucinating?” Jeff asked. “It’s that bad?”
I said that out loud? Was I?
“Oh, I—no. I’m fine. I said hungry .”
“You did not,” he said under his breath. “OK, what do you want to eat? Soup? Crackers?”
“Boring food, you mean,” I said with a laugh.
“Yes, sick woman food.”
“Sick woman food? Are you saying that men don’t eat the same kinds of things when they’re sick?”
He shrugged, putting his hands in his pockets. “No. I just haven’t been around a lot of men when they’re sick.”
In an accusing tone that would probably embarrass me later when I remembered it, I asked, “Oh, but you’ve taken care of a lot of other sick women?”
His eyebrows rose a bit. “No, only my mother and sister.”
“Oh. Right.”
What an absolute idiot I was. I was never going to be able to show my face at the office again after today.
“I’ll go find you something to eat that isn’t too boring,” he said, about to turn around.
“Oh, hey, wait!” I called, probably louder than I thought. “Why did you say Hazel sent you over?”
“She said it was really urgent that we finish reviewing the legal resource list by Monday at the latest.” His shoulders lifted briefly. “I don’t know why it’s so urgent. But here I am.”
“I don’t think I’ll be able to look at work stuff yet. I’m not—”
“No, no, don’t worry about it. Just get better and rest, Roxy. After you eat, you can go to sleep for as long as you want.” He darted out of the room, and I stared after him.
What on earth was going on? And why was I this tired?