Chapter 34
thirty-four
BLAIR
Good thing Logan and his friends helped me paint my room, because I’m going to be staring at the walls all day.
“Blair-Bear?” Reed’s concerned voice floats through my door as I moan pitifully for the tenth time in as many minutes. I try to push myself into a sitting position when he knocks.
“Come in.” My voice is raspy and raw, and it hurts to talk. Hell, everything hurts right now. Someone must have been incubating something nasty at work last week, or else I caught something at Reed’s last football game.
“You look like shit,” Reed observes without a shred of diplomacy.
“Gee, thanks.”
My little brother crosses the room and presses the back of his hand against my sweaty forehead. I know it must be as bad as it feels when he hisses. “Do you need to go to the doctor? I can stay home and take care of you. Your head feels really hot.”
If Reed didn’t look so genuinely concerned, I’d think he was just trying to get out of going to school today. But he does look concerned. Which means I really must look like shit.
“You can’t miss school. I’ll be fine, I just need some rest. I already texted my boss, so I’m going to sleep all day.”
Reed frowns, not looking convinced. “Do you need medicine?”
“I’ll be fine.” I stupidly haven’t stocked up on cold medicine since we moved, and now I’m going to pay for it. But Reed’s only thirteen. It’s not like he can borrow my car and make a run to the store. “Seriously. Don’t worry about me. You should go. I’m too sick to drive you if you miss the bus.”
Reed hesitates again. He pulls out his phone to check the time, swears, and fires off a text.
“You really need to stop swearing,” I tease.
“Yeah, yeah. Listen, text if you need me, okay? I’ll figure out how to get home early.”
“I’ll be fine, Reedy, I promise. Now get out of here, so you’re not late. I love you.”
Reed stares at me, frowning, for another minute before he disappears.
I’d think he left without saying goodbye if I couldn’t hear him muttering to himself in the kitchen.
He reappears with a glass of cold water and a cool washcloth.
He sets the glass on my nightstand and presses the washcloth to my head.
“I love you too, Blair-Bear. Seriously, call me if you need me, okay?”
I won’t, but he’s sweet. Nodding, I make a shooing motion with my hands.
Reed sighs, but he really is running late, so he hurries out of the apartment, locking the door behind him.
I manage to make it to the bathroom and back into my bed, and I’m slipping back into a delirious state of half-sleep when I hear a key in the lock and footsteps coming down the hall.
“Reed?” I croak. “What are you doing? You should be at school.”
“Not Reed, angel,” a deep, familiar voice says from my doorway. Logan frowns when he sees me. A grocery bag crinkles in his grip as he steps into my room and closes the distance between us. “He texted me and left his key on the trim above your door so I could get in.”
My eyes burn as I try to focus on Logan’s handsome face. Maybe I really am delirious. Am I hallucinating him? The bed dips as he sits beside me, and his cool fingertips brush across my burning forehead.
If I’m hallucinating, it’s very realistic.
“You’re not hallucinating. But I am concerned that you’re muttering your thoughts out loud.” His lips twitch into a half smile, but it doesn’t erase the concern from his slate-gray eyes.
“You’re really here, then? How are you here? Don’t you have practice?”
“Not until later. Here, I brought you some medicine. It’s just general cough and cold stuff since Reed wasn’t sure what you have, but hopefully it’ll help.
” Logan pulls a bottle of cough syrup from his bag and pours a dose into the little plastic cup before holding it to my lips. “Drink, beautiful.”
It hurts to swallow the medicine, but I’m rewarded with a gentle kiss on my forehead.
“Shit, baby. You’re burning up.” The next thing Logan pulls out of his magic bag is a thermometer.
It’s one of those fancy temporal ones that takes your temperature by scanning a pulse point.
I don’t know how it works, only that I’m glad I don’t have to stick the thing under my tongue.
“One-oh-two. High, but not dangerous. That’s good. ”
He grabs the glass of water Reed left for me and holds it up to my parched lips. I swallow a few sips before sinking back into the pillows I’ve wedged against my headboard. My eyes flutter closed when Logan cups my face with his cool hands.
“My poor angel. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you, okay? Are you hungry?”
Somehow, I manage to shake my head. Food doesn’t sound appealing.
“How about I make you some tea? It’ll help your throat feel better. I got this stuff from the store. It’s supposed to be soothing for sore throats.” He holds up a box of some kind of tea that I can’t focus on.
“Sure,” I croak. “Thank you.”
Logan leans in and presses a kiss to my forehead. “Be right back.”
I doze as he boils water and prepares the tea. Feeling like shit is exhausting. When he comes back into the room, he has to help me hold the cup as I take careful sips of the hot drink. He’s right, it does help soothe my throat a bit.
“Do you want to watch a movie? I brought my laptop.”
“I don’t want you to get sick.” Because yes, I do want to watch a movie in bed snuggled up against my boyfriend. But he has a game tomorrow, and he can’t afford to catch whatever this is.
“I loaded up on vitamins, and I always get my flu shot. I’ll be fine.”
I should argue with him, but I don’t have the energy.
Instead, I watch him stride out of my room, returning a moment later with a backpack.
Once his laptop is out, he pulls the covers back and gets into bed with me.
He opens a streaming app and scrolls through hundreds of options before landing on a recent rom-com.
With the screen settled on his lap, Logan wraps an arm around my waist and tugs me to the side so my head rests in the space between his arm and chest.
“Just rest and let me hold you,” he murmurs.
I’m asleep within minutes.
Logan presses a kiss to my forehead and whispers that he has to go to practice, but he’ll be back. I’m still half asleep and mumble a goodbye before my eyes slip closed again.
When I wake up feeling somewhat refreshed for the first time today, it’s to the sound of laughter and conversation in the other room.
I’m still sweaty and my throat hurts, but between the sleep and the medicine, I at least feel capable of walking to the bathroom on steady legs.
I do my business, brush my teeth and hair, and wash my face before shuffling into the main part of the apartment.
What I see has my heart swelling up more than my throat.
Logan moves around the kitchen, cooking something, while Reed sits at the dining room table with a book and notebook open.
The savory scent of celery and chicken stock permeates the apartment, adding to the homey warmth of the scene.
It’s impossible to look away, and something fuzzy and bright lodges itself behind my ribs when Logan tilts his head to the side, considering the answer when Reed asks him for help with his homework.
Then a tickle starts in my throat, and I cough.
Both men turn and look at me with concern. Logan is quick to close the distance between us.
“Hey, you’re up.” He brushes a curl off my sweaty forehead before pressing the back of his cool hand to my skin. “You don’t seem quite as feverish. How are you feeling?”
“A little better,” I rasp, letting him lead me over to the couch. Logan helps me sit down, then he wraps a blanket around me, tucking it beneath my ass and back so I’m cocooned in fuzzy warmth. “Not great, but better.”
“Good.” He kisses my forehead. “I’m making soup. I know you weren’t hungry earlier, but you need to eat something.”
Reed ambles over with a glass of water and presses it into my hands. When they shake, he helps me bring the glass to my lips so I can take a few sips, then he sets it on the coffee table. His voice is rough and hesitant when he speaks. “Hey Blair-Bear. You hanging in there?”
I nod. “Thanks for calling in reinforcements.”
“Of course. I was worried about you.”
I see it then. There’s more to his expression than simply being worried I have a bad cold.
Beneath the thirteen-year-old bravado shines the eyes of an eight-year-old boy who lost his parents.
A boy who’s had the rug ripped out from beneath him once already, and knows even the most mundane, normal series of events can lead to your world falling down around you.
Even if this is nothing more than a bad cold, it’s touched on a deep fear he may never fully shake.
What if I was really sick, and he lost me? Who would Reed have then?
Suddenly, his fear is my own.
Reaching out, I wrap my arms around my little brother, who’s no longer so little. I crush him to me and stroke his head. The need to reassure us both is a fire-breathing monster clawing at my ribs.
“I’m okay. It’s just a cold, Reedy. I’m not going anywhere.”
My little brother chokes back a sob, and I hold him tighter.
“I know. You’re all right. We’re both fine.”
When I pull away, I find Logan watching us intently. There’s deep affection in his steely gaze, but there’s also deep longing. My brother isn’t the only guy in this room with a damaged little boy peeking out through older eyes right now.
Holding out my hand, I invite Logan to join our hug. He only hesitates for a moment before bending over both of us and wrapping his arms around Reed and me. It feels right in a way I can’t express.
“I’m going to take care of you both,” Logan whispers. It’s so quiet, I almost miss it. I’m not even sure he meant to say it out loud, so I don’t respond. But internally?
I make the same promise to him.