Chapter 15 #2
Partying was another thing Jess had promised herself she’d avoid—her chaos-to-calm plans proved harder to stick to than she’d expected—but a couple of quiet ciders with Laney and the crew in a country pub probably didn’t count.
Laney’s positivity could be a little much, but the girl was sweet.
It would take her mind off Nate at least, and she could avoid an encounter with him at the cottage tonight.
“You convinced me.”
“You don’t look like a girl who needs much convincing,” Frankie winked at her playfully. “One drink and you’re all ours.”
“Just yours, Frankie,” she flirted back.
He dramatically gushed, hand to chest.
This was what she needed. Playful fun with friends, not another disastrous fling with a hot guy. Even one as lovely as Nate Mitchell.
FILMING WRAPPED UP FOR THE DAY and, keen to get his stuff and get out before Jess got back, Nate rushed to the cottage.
It was empty when he arrived, Jess’s car nowhere in sight.
She wouldn’t even be aware he knew her secret about Dave.
If she came back, he’d play dumb and say he was going out for the evening.
No need for a confrontation. She wasn’t who he thought she was, and it wasn’t worth the breath arguing with her.
Avoiding her on set for a second day hadn’t been hard.
In fact, he hadn’t seen her all day. She must have been busy in the writers’ room.
It bugged him he’d thought of her so much, wondering where she was.
What he wanted to do was forget about her and their ‘date’, or whatever they’d had, altogether.
In the lounge, he stripped the couch of bedding and folded it up, placing the sheets and pillows neatly on the cushions. He packed his bag quickly, retrieving his toothbrush and toiletries from the bathroom. As he passed the bedroom, he paused. Was that a groan?
Nate’s pulse shot up. Was Jess here and in bed with Dave? Her car wasn’t in the driveway. He stood perfectly still, his toiletries clutched in his hand, and held his breath, listening. No, that wasn’t a groan. A muffled sound familiar to him from the hospital came through the closed door. Vomiting.
Slowly turning the handle of the bedroom door, he cursed himself for not getting out of there while he could.
Why did he do this to himself? She didn’t deserve his help or compassion.
Still, he couldn’t just ignore her. His conscience wouldn’t let him.
She might be an awful person, but she sounded ill, and he needed to at least check how ill before he left her to it.
“Jess?” He peeked around the door into the dark room. The acidic smell of vomit hit him immediately. “Are you okay?”
“I just vomited a dozen times, so what do you think?”
Still sassy. That was a good sign.
“I need to—” The light from the door illuminated a large metal bowl in Jess’s hands that Nate suspected was full of her stomach contents. She attempted to stand, but her legs gave out and she sat back down on the edge of the bed.
“Need help?” He took the bowl, placed it on the bedside table, and slipped his arm around her back, pulling her up to standing. She wobbled and leant into him, her body shaking slightly. Dehydrated, and probably hungover.
“Big night?”
Jess let him lead her to the bathroom. “No. I mean, yes, but I never get…I don’t—”
“All good. I’m not judging,” Nate interrupted, holding the bathroom door open and guiding her in. “You okay?”
She nodded, still looking decidedly green, and he closed the door, waiting a polite distance away and wondering if now was a good time to leave. He’d managed hangovers on his own. She’d be okay. His feet didn’t budge.
The toilet flushed and Jess emerged, somehow looking even worse than before. “I don’t think this is—” Her legs buckled under her.
Leaping forward instinctively, Nate caught her around the waist as she fell and stopped her toppling to the ground.
“I think we better get you back into bed,” he said, gently lifting her to her feet. Supporting her full weight, they walked the short distance back to the bedroom, where he lowered her into bed and covered her with the blanket.
“Do you think you’ll be sick again?” he asked. Jess nodded, so he quickly emptied the bowl in the bathroom and returned to her bedside.
“That’s some hangover you have.”
In response, she groaned and reached for the bowl.
Nate waited while she finished, rubbing her back with one hand and holding her hair gently out of the way with the other. When she caught her breath, he fetched her a glass of water from the kitchen and encouraged her to take a sip.
“I don’t get hungover like this,” she said as she sipped her water. “I think I’ve got food poisoning. I ate the popcorn shrimp.”
“I seriously don’t care if you’re hungover.” He knew the crew had been out for a big night of drinks. Frankie had talked about it all morning. Apparently, Jess was quite a riot.
“I think I know the difference.” She lay back down and curled onto her side, her hands wrapped around her stomach.
Sitting beside her on the bed, she seemed small and vulnerable, and it made it hard to hold on to the anger he’d felt earlier.
He placed a hand on her forehead, feeling the heat radiate from her.
It could be food poisoning. As much as he wanted to leave, to get back to his own space and away from cheating, thoughtless women, he knew he couldn’t do it.
Food poisoning, if it was that, could be serious.
Deadly even. It would nag at him all night if he left her here alone.
He could ring Dave, her boyfriend or whatever.
It was a risk, but seemed the right thing to do in this situation.
“Look, I’ll call Dave and wait while he comes out here to look after you, okay?”
“Dave? No. No!” Jess rolled back over, grabbed the bowl and promptly filled it.
Was she scared of getting caught out with him? So Dave was the jealous, potentially aggressive type then.
When she recovered, he handed her the water again, encouraging her to sip and stay hydrated.
“Definitely don’t ring Dave,” she said between sips. “Seriously. Don’t.”
“Okay, fine.” He held his palm against her forehead again. “We do need to get your temperature down.”
Jess lay back down, her body curved against him, shivering with fever. Nate stroked her hair off her face, tucking it behind her ear.
What was it about this woman? She made him want to curl up next to her, even sick and smelling like vomit.
Even knowing she was attached to another man.
Was it a kind of payback against his ex?
It didn’t feel like that. Whatever it was, his feelings were inappropriate.
She was taken, and he was in no place to be starting a relationship.
The tender feelings welling up inside him were not okay.
Don’t confuse care and concern with romantic feelings, he told himself, slipping into a work mindset.
Doctor-mode would be far safer than all these other feelings he couldn’t seem to get a handle on.
Bring down her temperature, he told himself.
Keep her hydrated. Make sure she’s okay, and then you can leave.