21. Chapter Twenty-One
Aches.
Nausea.
Pounding.
I moan, squeezing my eyes shut. My head is throbbing as if I stood in the front row of a rock concert, my eardrums muffled and full of pressure. Everything sounds like I’m underwater.
Except, the only sound I’ve heard today is my vomit entering the toilet. The pounding happens again, and I curl up under my sheets, dramatically pleading with the universe about what I’ll do in exchange to make it stop.
I’ll give all my cash away the next time I see the people out collecting money with their red buckets and bells ringing.
I’ll let people check out before me at the cash register, even when I’m in a rush.
I’ll even tell Tyler that I hid a candle called Swamp Tush above his fridge with the lid off, letting the stinky butt odor permeate throughout his kitchen.
I will literally do anything to stop the throbbing and vomiting.
The pounding worsens again, and Winston nudges my arm with his nose. This time, a manly voice calling my name precedes the pounding.
“Tyler?” The single word makes my throat feel like I’m rubbing sandpaper on it. Am I hearing things? Dreaming up a strong, handsome doctor to take care of me?
It takes every ounce of energy I have to push up from my bed, wrap a fuzzy blanket around myself, and crawl downstairs. Winston follows dutifully behind, at my heels. I hide my face from the bright sunlight as I open the front door.
Okay, maybe I wasn’t hearing things. Standing before me, in the flesh, is Tyler Reed, holding a bunch of bags. Winston moves in front of me, standing guard. There’s no love lost between those two. But Tyler shocks me even more when he pulls a giant duck toy out of one of the bags and extends it like a peace offering to my dog.
Winston’s tail slowly starts to wag, like he’s trying not to give in. But when he can’t take it anymore, he jumps up, snatching the toy from Tyler’s hand and running past me to play with his new friend.
Tyler’s face softens as he takes me in. I’m sure my hair looks wonderful , up in my messy bun and dried in crazy ways from my fevered, sweaty state. Honestly, I might even have vomit somewhere on my face or my shirt. I’ve been too exhausted to bother to look in the mirror.
I make a move toward him, wanting to help him carry his bags inside. But exhaustion takes over, and I crumple to the ground.
The next thing I know, strong arms are around my back and under my legs, and I’m floating up the stairs.
“Maybe I am dreaming,” I murmur.
“What?” He laughs.
“You’re at work, so I’m either dreaming or hallucinating.” I grab my throat, whimpering. “Ouch.”
“Shhh.” He sets me down in bed, tucking me in under the sweat-soaked covers.
The whole room smells like vomit, so I’m really glad he’s not actually here and I’m only dreaming.
Dreamy Tyler smooths my sweaty hair back from my forehead. “Don’t try to talk, sweetheart. Just go back to sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
Yeah, this is definitely a dream. There’s no way Tyler would call me sweetheart .
I snuggle deeper into my blanket cocoon, and sleep finds me once again.
I don’t know what time it is when I startle awake. My hand flies to my mouth, and I rush to my shared bathroom with Alyssa. I barely make it to the toilet before I hurl again. One second, I’m getting sick, using all my strength to hold onto the toilet seat that really needs a deep cleaning after the day I’ve had, and the next, someone’s hands are tenderly rubbing my back as I vomit.
When I’ve emptied my stomach yet again, I turn to find Tyler freaking Reed crouching behind me with a pitying but kind look in his eyes. He hands me a water bottle. I pour some into my mouth and swish the liquid around before spitting it into the toilet. Then I take the toilet paper he’s extending my way and wipe my eyes and mouth before flushing.
“How—” I start to ask how he got into my house, but he cuts me off.
“Do you feel strong enough to shower? It might help you feel better.”
“Is that your way of telling me I stink?” I cross my arms, trying to hold in the terrible stench.
“Just trying to help, Anderson.” He brushes a stray clump of hair that escaped my bun behind my ear.
The way his knuckles graze my cheekbone with the movement causes my breath to hitch. I clearly must be delusional right now if I’m feeling some type of way because of him . “A shower sounds great.”
“I’ll grab you some clean clothes.”
I get the water heating up, and Tyler returns a minute later with a fresh pair of pajama pants, one of my oversized shirts, and a pair of underwear. I’m too drained to be embarrassed that he went into my underwear drawer.
“Thanks,” I mutter. “I won’t be long.”
“Take however long you need.” He motions to the laundry room on the other side of the hall. “I’m going to get your sheets and blankets in the wash. Which detergent is yours?”
“The blue bottle.”
“Great, thanks.” He disappears back into my bedroom. I’m not sure what alternate reality I’m living in right now—or maybe I’m hallucinating everything. But wherever I am, a nice, warm shower is calling my name.
I feel a little better when I step out of the tub. My worn tee and pajama pants are soft against my clean skin. I brush my tangled hair, apply some moisturizer to my face, and brush my teeth before dropping off my dirty clothes in my hamper in the laundry room.
I attempt to walk downstairs to get a glass of water and maybe something to eat, but my body still feels exhausted, and I slump down on a step halfway down the staircase. I jump when Tyler appears around the corner, taking the stairs two at a time to reach me, with Winston following at his feet.
“You’re still here,” I squeak, trying to hide my wince from my scratchy throat.
“I’m here, sweetheart.” Tyler lifts me in his arms and carries me down the steps like I’m light as a feather. He sets me down and helps me sit at the kitchen table. “I brought a few things for you earlier.” He walks to the island and pulls out a mini pharmacy worth of medicine from a bag on the counter. “How are you feeling?”
“It’s nice to feel clean, but I’m pretty exhausted.” I rub my neck, every word I say feeling like sandpaper rubbing my throat raw. “Got anything for a wicked sore throat?”
Tyler pulls out a mini spray bottle. “Spray this into your mouth toward your throat. It tastes like honey.”
I do as instructed, deciding it’s best to trust the medical professional in the room. The relief I feel is instantaneous.
“Better?”
I nod. “Got any food in those bags?”
He pulls out a brown bag from the fridge. “I can reheat it in the oven.” He reaches inside the bag and pulls out a sandwich.
Tears instantly pool in the corners of my eyes. “Is that—” I swallow down my thick emotion. “Is that a Hot Brown?”
“Sure is.”
“Who told you?” My voice is barely a whisper, choked with emotion.
“You told me it’s your comfort food whenever you’re sick. That your mom always got you them growing up.” He shrugs casually. “I figured you were too sick to get it yourself this time.”
The memory hits me. I told him that on our non -date. The one Darla set us up on. “I can’t believe you remember that.”
“I remember a lot of things about you, Anderson.”
I drop my gaze to hide my blush…and to avoid whatever hidden meaning is behind his words. I’m not ready to deal with whatever feelings he’s having—or that I’m having—right now.
He clears his throat. “Do you think you can eat it? I picked up some chicken noodle soup if you want something more bland.”
“The Hot Brown is perfect.” No matter how sick I am, it’s usually the only thing I can stomach.
I watch as he navigates my kitchen, opening a million drawers to find what he needs but not letting me get up to do anything.
The feeling is unfamiliar. But I think he’s…taking care of me. No man has ever catered to my every need like this before.
I’m practically falling asleep at the table again when he sets the sandwich in front of me, along with a steaming mug that smells like minty tea. He returns upstairs to move the laundry while I eat half of my meal, starving since I’ve emptied my stomach in the last twelve hours. But I know not to overdo it and eat the whole thing. I sip the tea, and it tastes of peppermint and honey, warming me from the inside.
“You get enough?” Tyler reappears, perusing my plate.
“Yeah, I’ll finish it later if my stomach does okay.” Before I have the chance to put the leftovers in the fridge, he grabs my plate and does it for me. He walks back over as I’m yawning.
“That answers my next question.” He smirks. “Come on. Let’s get you in bed.” Without asking permission, he slings my arm over his shoulder and pulls me into his side, taking most of my weight as he helps me up the stairs and back to my room. I raise an eyebrow, and his eyes twinkle with amusement. “Don’t worry, I won’t get in with you.”
He somehow knows where my bedroom is, but I don’t ask any questions since my energy is waning again. Tyler motions to my cozy chair that I sat in a lot when doing remote work. “Will you be okay there right now?” I nod, and he helps me settle into it, grabbing a fresh blanket and pillow from the top shelf of my closet and placing them on my lap. Winston curls up on the ground beside the chair, resting his head on his new stuffed duck toy. “Text me if you need anything.”
“Okay,” I murmur just before sleep overtakes me again.
Everything around me is fuzzy when I come to. I feel groggy, my eyes heavy with sleep. But I can tell I’m in bed with Winston lying dutifully beside me. I don’t remember falling asleep here, but the sheets are silky and smell fresh.
The door to my room squeaks as it slowly opens, and I see Tyler peeking in. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” He grimaces. “You doing okay?”
“My sheets are so soft.” My voice is heavy in my groggy state.
“I’m glad you like them.” My eyes are closed, but I can hear the smile in his words.
“You did this?” I burrow into them. “I love you.”
“Ah, so you don’t hate me?” His voice sounds teasing, but I detect a hint of vulnerability there.
“How can I hate you and all your rugged handsomeness?” I yawn, feeling like I’m going to be pulled back into a deep slumber soon. “If they put doctors with faces like yours on billboards, there would be a shortage of available appointments worldwide.”
His laugh is beautiful, filling the whole room. “That’s a high compliment. Especially coming from you.” My bed jostles, but I’m too tired to open my eyes and see if it’s him or Winston. “Does this mean you’ll call me McSteamy now instead of Frankenstein or Doofenshmirtz?”
“You’re not McSteamy.” My brow furrows. That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. I sigh, feeling my lips pull up into a content smile as I burrow under the clean sheets and snuggle Winston closer to me. “You’re more of a McDreamy.”
I stretch in bed, feeling more like myself after a few hours of rest. Aches and stomach pains aren’t racking my body anymore. Instead, my stomach growls loudly like she’s saying how dare you deprive me of food .
“Sounds like your appetite is back.”
I gasp, jumping and opening my eyes to find Tyler beside me—err, underneath me. Pure mortification hits me when I realize what I did. I slept on Tyler freaking Reed’s chest.
I’m unable to meet his gaze or even move. Maybe if I squeeze my eyes shut really hard and then open them again, he won’t be there anymore. It’s just a trick of my imagination.
“What are you doing?” Mirth fills his tone. I squeeze my eyes shut even harder. If there’s ever a time for me to wake up with magical powers like Harry Potter, this is the moment.
I sigh when nothing happens, slowly opening my eyes to look at Tyler. In my bed. “What are you doing here?”
“In your bed?”
I pull the covers up, trying to hide my pajamas from sight. “Yes, and in my house.”
“You let me in hours ago, and I remade your bed a while ago when the sheets were finished in the dryer. I carried you into your bed so you wouldn’t hurt your neck sleeping in your chair.” He rubs the back of his own neck, looking bashful. “When I checked on you later, you pulled me next to you, snuggled into me, and immediately fell asleep. I knew you needed your sleep, so I didn’t move.” Tyler leans over and pets Winston. “If it makes you feel any better, this guy eyed me the whole time. But I think we have an understanding now.”
Winston licks his hand. The little traitor.
As I watch them interact, memories from the day flood my mind. No. For the love of biscuits. Please tell me I didn’t call Tyler McDreamy and comment on his rugged handsomeness .
“You’ve been here all day?” My voice jumps an octave. I’m praying with everything in me that I’m wrong. That I just woke up from a crazy dream-turned-nightmare.
“My handsome self has been here since lunch.” His lips tilt up at one corner into a cocky grin. “Though, I’m sure my appointments will be fully booked for the year if we use your billboard idea.”
I press my lips together, wishing I could grab a paper towel and some cleaning spray and wipe away the humiliating memories on replay in my brain. “Can you please forget I said any of that?” I groan. “I’m sick and had no clue what I was saying. I didn’t know you were actually here.”
I lay my head back down before realizing that’s a terrible idea because it means Tyler’s chest is my pillow. I shoot out of bed like a Derby horse out of the gate…which is yet another terrible idea. It feels like the world is spinning around me. I grab my head and close my eyes, trying to stave off the dizziness. It would be beyond embarrassing to faint in front of Tyler.
Peeking an eye open, I watch Tyler get up from my bed and rush over to me. He takes hold of my forearms, steadying me. Once he seems certain I’m not going to keel over, a cocky grin pulls at his lips. “So you were dreaming I was here?”
“Stop putting words in my mouth.” I suppress an eye roll.
“I will when you stop saying them.”
I wish I could wipe the smug grin off his face.
Tyler lets go of his hold on me, takes a step back, and leans against the wall. I’m not sure if it’s just because I’m still coming out of one of the worst stomach bugs I’ve ever had or not…but he has no business looking that good. Like an Adonis or a merman who lures you out to sea with his gorgeous looks.
I look around my room, trying to find a way to change the subject. I notice there isn’t any more light streaming in through my window. “What time is it? Did I sleep the whole day?”
“You slept for a few hours. It’s dinner time.” He motions to the door. “Your friends are kind enough to be hosting Evie downstairs.”
“Evie.” My eyes go wide. “I’m sorry, I was so sick that I completely forgot to pick her up from school.”
He shakes his head, smiling.
“What’s funny about forgetting your niece?”
“You didn’t forget her. Alyssa said the first thing you did was make sure that one of them could watch Evie. But even if you hadn’t, your friends would’ve taken care of everything. People have your back, Kelsey.” He puts a hand in his front pocket, making him look even more like a model. “You don’t have to do everything on your own.”
I bite my bottom lip, not wanting to read into the words he’s saying. I do have to do everything on my own. That’s the only way things will get done. No one else can achieve my dream for me.
My stomach growls again, louder than before, breaking the silence.
Tyler laughs. “Do you want the rest of your sandwich?”
I nod. “The soup too.”
We walk to the kitchen, and Winston follows. He leaves my side the second he sees Evie with my besties, dropping his toy duck and trotting over to her with his tongue lolling. He gives her a big kiss on her cheek while she hugs his neck.
“No dogs at the table, Eves.” Tyler shoots her a stern look.
“Sorry.” She sits back up, keeping her eyes on the dog. “I’ll give you the biggest hug ever when I’m done.” He lays at her feet like he understood everything she said.
I glance at my friends sitting at the kitchen table with Evie, and find their eyes moving back and forth between Tyler and me like a ping-pong match.
I want to tell them there’s nothing to see here. Just my friendly next-door enemy who isn’t really my enemy anymore. Oh, and did I mention that I used him as my personal body pillow in my sick-induced slumber? Yeah…I think silence is the best option here.
I sit on a barstool at the island, not wanting to risk getting Evie or any of my friends sick, while Tyler reheats the leftovers. I devour the food.
He leans his elbows on the counter, smirking at me. “You know what animals are always hungry?”
I shake my head.
“Goats. They eat all day long. Sometimes they even eat things like paper or clothing .” He presses his lips into a firm line like he’s trying to hold it together. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”
My friends burst out laughing. Mallory wags her finger at him. “I’m starting to like you. You’re savage, just like me.”
“That’s a high compliment coming from you, Your Savageness.” He bows to Mal like she’s royalty and not just a royal pain in my behind.
Evie giggles. “Do you think we’ll see Snowball again? I can feed him some of the clothes I don’t like anymore.”
“I can honestly say I hope to never see Snowball again,” I mutter.
Tyler snorts. “Now that you’re feeling better, I should probably get Evie home so she can do her homework and get ready for bed. I also need to deep clean my fridge. There’s this awful smell.” He wrinkles his nose. “I already tried cleaning out the sink and trash can, but I can’t figure out where it’s coming from.”
My stomach drops. I know exactly why his kitchen smells—the Swamp Tush candle I hid above his fridge with the lid off.
Evie hugs everyone goodbye, and I wave at her. Before Tyler can leave, I follow him toward the door.
“Thanks for taking care of me today,” I say.
The smile he shoots my way looks genuine. “Anytime, Kelsey.”
I rock on my feet. “Since you took care of me, it only seems fair that I save you the trouble of cleaning out your fridge.” He stares at me expectantly. I take a deep breath and continue. “I might’ve done two pranks at the same time. The flamingo lawn ornaments and another one…”
“Please don’t tell me there’s a dead animal inside my house.”
“No, nothing like that.” I cross my arms. “It’s a candle.”
“A candle.” He says the word slowly. “I don’t know where you buy your candles from, but you should find a new candle shop.”
I clear my throat, ignoring the way it still feels raw. “Well, you see, it’s called Swamp Tush .”
“ Swamp Tush .”
“Are you just going to keep repeating everything I say?”
“No, I’m just trying to understand.” He crosses his arms, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “You hid a candle somewhere in my house that smells like literal butthole?”
“If I tell you where it is, can we call a truce on the prank war?” I shoot him my best pleading eyes, trying to look like Winston when he wants something.
“You mean the one you started and want to end on a win?”
“I only started it because I thought you were an evil jerk who thrived on waking me up before sunrise every morning and who hated dogs.”
“So, you’re saying the reason I had to change my phone number and need to air out my entire house is because I didn’t wear headphones because I thought I soundproofed the room?”
I shift on my feet, wishing I was wearing my fuzzy slippers and not knowing what to say.
His lips tilt into a playful grin. “Relax, Anderson. I’m just messing with you.” He shrugs into his coat. “I’ll agree to your truce on one condition.”
“Name it.”
“Go on a date with me.”
My eyes shoot up to his. I’m expecting to find the same playful expression there, but instead, he looks nervous and vulnerable. Like he just laid his heart on the line, and I have the power to crush it with one single word.
I hold up one hand. “Get pranked again.” I hold up the other at the same height. “Go on a date with you.”
I move my hands up and down like they’re a scale and I’m weighing the pros and cons of each. Really, I’m trying to casually play off the whole thing while I’m freaking out inside at the fact that Tyler wants to take me on an actual date.
“I guess I can agree to your terms.”
His face floods with relief. “Great.” His smile is so bright it should be assigned wattage. “Once you feel better, we’ll find a time that works.”
“Sounds good,” I manage to say, but the crack in my voice exposes me. I clear my scratchy throat and swallow carefully to collect myself. “Good night. And…thank you. For everything.” For taking care of me today.
The tender way he’s looking at me can melt me into a puddle if I’m not careful.
Tyler reaches out and gives my arm a squeeze. “Like I said, anytime. Sleep well.” He leaves with Evie.
To hold up my other end of the bargain, I call after him, "By the way, you might want to look above your fridge."
Tyler looks back at me with a small smirk. " Above the fridge. Genius." With that, he shakes his head and continues his short walk home with Evie.
I shut the door and fall back against it, breathing heavily.
My talk with Darla might’ve convinced me not to fully close off my heart to love, but I’m still not sure it lasts. At least, I’m not sure there’s a love out in the world that will last for me . And I don’t want to risk hurting Tyler in the process of figuring out what I want for my future.
Although, I might already be in a position to hurt him. Tyler has been looking at me differently. I’ve tried to ignore it, but I can’t anymore. Not with the gentle way he cared for me today, how he called me sweetheart, and brought me my favorite comfort food.
I sit on the ground. Winston bounds over, carrying the stuffed duck in his mouth. Tyler’s even trying to get in the good graces of my dog. I groan.
I thought Tyler was trouble from the beginning, but—whether I like it or not—now I feel like I’m the one in trouble…of losing my heart.