39. Celeste
Celeste
“Whoa. What smells so good in here?”
Jason calls to me from the kitchen. “Dinner’s ready.”
“Those are my favorite words out of your mouth.” I drop my purse on the entryway table and make my way into the kitchen. “Wow. Candles and everything? This is some romantic date night shit right here. Where’s Kourt?”
He pulls out a chair, gesturing for me to sit. “She’s working an event. She’ll be home late.”
I plop onto the chair and glance up at him. “So…we’re having date night?”
“That okay with you?”
My stomach flips, but I arch a brow. “Did you hear about our girl time in the bath the other night and get jealous, boss man?”
He leans down and presses his lips to my cheek. “Maybe I did.”
“Tell you what. I’ll let you braid my hair, and then we can have a pillow fight after.”
“I might like that.”
I snort. “You would.”
I know what this really is. Kourtney is trying to prove something to me. She heard my worries, and she wants to ease them.
It’s not necessary.
But I’ll go along with it since they both went through all this trouble to set this up.
“What’s on the menu tonight?” I reach out and take a swig of wine already waiting in my glass.
“I ordered from Patrizio’s. I know their spaghetti and meatballs is your favorite.”
“Mmm. Italian food is the way to my heart.”
“I know it is.” He sets a bowl down in front of me. “Want extra sauce?”
“Yes, please.”
I wait for Jason to serve himself and take the seat across from me before digging in.
I swirl my fork around and shove a heap of pasta into my mouth. “This is so good.”
Jason laughs as spaghetti falls out of my mouth. “Easy, tiger. I don’t want to have to give you the Heimlich maneuver.”
“I’m like a snake. I never choke. My jaw unhinges, and I can fit any amount of food into my mouth.” I cut into the meatball and shovel it in. “They’re one of the only places that puts pignolis in their meatballs. It’s the only way to make them.”
“I love them. Kourtney picks them out.”
I roll my eyes. “She doesn’t know what’s good for her. You know she won’t eat the stalks of broccoli either? She says it tastes different.”
Jason breaks off a piece of the Italian bread and hands me a piece. “She still doesn’t eat the crust on her pizza.”
“Blasphemy. That’s the best part.” I cover my mouth with my hand to cough. “Sorry, there’s a tickle in my throat.” I reach out and suck down a big gulp of wine before finishing the rest of my meatball.
Jason arches a brow. “You sure it’s not all the half-chewed food lodged in there?”
I wave him off and dip my bread into the sauce. “You’re a phenomenal cook, boss man. Seriously, everything you make is outstanding.”
He bites back a smile. “Thanks.”
Jason is one of the most down-to-earth professional athletes I’ve ever met. He isn’t full of himself or arrogant. He plays because he loves the game and doesn’t care how the world perceives him.
My nose twinges, and I turn away from the table to sneeze into my elbow. After the first, another one follows.
“Bless you.” Jason watches me from over the rim of his glass. “You okay over there?”
“Yeah, I don’t know what’s happening.” I blow my nose into my napkin. “Sorry. What a sexy date I am, huh?”
He smirks. “You’re sexy even with snot in your nose.”
My hands fly up to cover my face. “Fuck, I have a booger?”
His head tilts back as he laughs. “No.”
I chuck a piece of bread at him. “Don’t be a vlakas.”
Jason laughs harder. “I love it when you curse me in Greek.”
Another sneeze has me turning away from the table.
“Seriously, are you okay?” Jason asks.
I wipe my nose with the corner of my napkin. “This is so weird. I only get like this when I have dairy.”
Jason’s fork clanks onto his plate, and his eyes widen as they meet mine.
My stomach lurches as realization sets in. “You told them not to put dairy in this, right?”
“I told them twice when I ordered.” The color drains from his face. “Are you having an allergic reaction?”
I stare down at my plate, assessing the quantity of cheese I must have consumed between the meatball and the sauce.
“Fuck.”
“It’s okay. It happens sometimes when we order out.” My eyes fly up to his. “Unless you’re trying to kill me for having sex with your wife. Oh god, please don’t tell me this nice guy thing was just an act. I’ll stop, I swear. You don’t have to kill me with cheese.”
Jason drops to his knees beside me. “This isn’t funny. Stop making jokes. Tell me where your pills are.”
“In my purse.”
Before I can get up, Jason has my purse and sets it down in my lap. “Shouldn’t we go to the hospital? Will these pills be enough?”
“I don’t need to go to the hospital.” I shake out two pills from my medication container into my palm. “Can I have some water, please?”
Jason darts over to the fridge and pulls out a water bottle, snapping the top off before handing it to me.
I swallow the pills before another series of sneezes begins.
Jason runs his fingers through his hair. “I can’t believe I fucked up like this. I’m such an idiot.”
“See? Told you that you’re a vlakas.”
His green eyes lock with mine. “Please stop making jokes right now. I’m freaking out.”
“Why are you freaking out? You’re not the one going into anaphylactic shock.” I clamp my hand over my mouth. “Sorry. That was the last joke, promise.”
“How long does it take the pills to kick in?”
“If they work, it’ll take about thirty minutes.”
“What do you mean if they work?”
I drag my fingernails around the back of my neck, scratching the hives that are forming there. “Sometimes, the pills don’t help, and my throat closes. Then I have to administer my EpiPen.”
He grimaces. “Maybe we should go to the hospital.”
“That’s only a last resort.” I scratch my chest. “I hate that fucking place. I was there all the time growing up.”
Jason moves my hair over one shoulder. “You’re covered in hives. Come on, let’s get you in the bath.”
I clear my throat to relieve the itch and try to swallow, but I can feel it thickening. I push out of my chair and stand. “ I don’t have any packets of the oatmeal bath. I haven’t needed them in years.”
Jason wraps his arm around my waist. “I have them. I stocked up when you moved in just in case.”
My feet falter as I gaze up at him. “You did?”
He nods. “Let’s go.”
“No, there’s no let’s. I’ve got this.”
“I’m coming with you.”
“Look, boss man. This allergic reaction isn’t pretty. My throat and eyes swell, I get extremely mucousy in the nose, and I usually start puking. You don’t need to stick around for all of that.”
He says nothing as he leads me into the hallway.
I’d argue with him, but I have another sneezing episode.
He reaches into the linen closet and pulls out a box of Aveeno oatmeal bath packets, and then we head into my bathroom.
I pull off my top and shimmy out of my jeans before leaning over to twist the lever on the faucet in the tub.
Jason’s eyes roam over my skin. “When should you resort to the EpiPen?”
“I hate that thing. It hurts like a bitch.”
He grips my face. “Where is it?”
“In my nightstand.”
Jason bolts out of the room while I pour the Aveeno packet into the water. It’s sweet that he’s so worried, but I’ve been through this plenty of times. I don’t need him to stay with me.
I prepare to tell him exactly that when he gets back into the bathroom, but my stomach convulses. “Fuck, I’m gonna puke.”
I drop to my knees in front of the toilet and lift the seat. Jason slips the elastic hair tie off my wrist and gathers my hair away from my face, twisting it into a bun.
“Please don’t look,” I say right before the contents of my stomach unloads.
Jason rubs my back in soothing circles. “It’s okay, kókkino. I’ve got you. I’m here.”
Wave after wave passes through me, and I can barely breathe between heaves with how congested my nose is.
“Hey, boss man.” I flush the bowl and lean my back against the cool porcelain tub as I gasp for air from my swelling throat. “Think I’m gonna need that EpiPen after all.”
He swipes it off the counter and hands it to me.
I pop open the cap, staring down at the thin but painful needle.
Fuck, this is going to hurt.
I hover the needle over my thigh, and my hand shakes as I try to suck in a deep breath.
I can do this.
Then Jason’s hand covers mine. “We’ll do it together, okay?”
I nod as a tear slips down my cheek. “On the count of three. One…two…”
Jason pushes down before I can say three, and the needle punctures my skin.
“Ow, fuck,” I cry out. “I knew you were going to go before three.”
“I’m sorry.” Jason swipes the tear from my cheek and brushes his thumb along my jawline. “Now what?”
I leave the needle in for several seconds before pulling it out. “Now, I get into the bath.” I push off the floor, and my stomach roils as I move to get up. “But first, I’m going to puke again.”
Jason stays with me, rubbing my back and pressing a cool washcloth to the back of my neck. I’m naked on the floor, vomiting up the beautiful dinner he bought. My eyes are swollen, my skin is covered in hives, and there’s active snot leaking out of my nose while I throw up.
I can’t help but laugh.
Jason leans over. “Are you…are you laughing?”
“Would you believe it if I told you this wasn’t the worst date I’ve been on?”
He rests his forehead against my back as he huffs out a laugh. “Well, this is a first for me. I’ve never almost killed my date.”
I pat him on the leg. “It’s going to take a lot more than that to kill me.”
Jason leans over and shuts off the water in the tub. Then he tears his shirt over his head and steps out of his pants. In one quick sweep, he hoists me off the floor and steps into the bath with me, lowering us down together until I’m lying against his back.
The warm water blankets my body, and the oatmeal mixture soothes my itching skin.
Jason runs his hands along my arms. “I’m so sorry I did this to you and ruined our night.”
“It’s okay. Seriously, accidents happen when it comes to my allergy. You remember prom night, don’t you?”
He nods. “It was scary as fuck seeing you like that.”