Chapter 40 - Out of Control #5
I opened my eyes.
He wasn't sitting beside me anymore.
I pushed myself upright.
"Adrian?"
"Kitchen."
His voice came from somewhere behind me.
I turned.
He was standing at the counter with a glass of water.
I stared at him.
"What are you doing?"
"Drinking water."
"Why are you standing?"
He looked at me.
"I haven't lost the ability."
"You almost did yesterday."
"That was yesterday."
I got off the couch.
"How long did I sleep?"
"Almost six hours."
"What?"
"You needed it."
"And you just let me sleep for six hours?"
"Yes."
"What if you needed something?"
"I survived."
I walked toward him.
"You're extremely annoying."
"So I've been told."
He looked better.
Not good.
But better.
His eyes were clearer.
His face wasn't as pale.
He was standing without using the furniture for structural support.
I reached him and put my hand against his forehead.
Warm.
Still definitely warm.
But-
"See?" he said.
I looked at him.
"Did you just say see because I touched your forehead?"
"You were evaluating me."
"I was."
"And?"
"You're alive."
"I've been saying that since yesterday."
"Your credibility is terrible."
His mouth moved.
He took another drink of water.
Then put the glass down.
"I'm taking a shower."
I stared at him.
"Alone?"
Adrian stared back.
"What exactly is the alternative you're proposing?"
Oh.
"No."
His eyebrows lifted slightly.
"That's not what I meant."
"Good."
"I meant what if you fall?"
"I'll try to fall with dignity."
"Adrian."
"I can shower."
"You got dizzy standing yesterday."
"That was yesterday."
"You already used that argument."
"And yet it's still accurate."
I crossed my arms.
He looked at me.
I looked back.
Finally-
"I'll leave the door unlocked."
I blinked.
That was apparently the compromise.
"Fine."
"Fine."
"But if I hear anything-"
"Angelica."
"What?"
"I'm taking a shower."
"And I'm making sure you don't die in it."
He stared at me for another second.
Then headed toward the stairs.
I watched him go up.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Probably because he knew I was watching.
He reached the top without falling over and disappeared upstairs.
Apparently this was my life now.
Listening for suspicious noises while Adrian Vale showered.
Excellent.
Nothing crashed.
Nothing fell.
Nobody died.
Approximately fifteen minutes later, Adrian came back downstairs wearing clean clothes, his hair still damp.
He looked considerably more human.
Still sick.
Still tired.
But human.
I pointed at him.
"Sit."
"I just spent fifteen minutes proving I can stand."
"Congratulations. Sit."
He sat.
I grabbed my bag.
"Where are you going?"
"To shower."
"I smell like I've been taking care of a sick asshole for two days."
His mouth moved.
"Go shower."
"Thank you."
I took my bag and escaped to the guest bathroom.
The shower felt incredible.
I stood under the hot water much longer than necessary, washed my hair, changed into clean comfortable clothes, and finally felt vaguely human again.
When I came back out, Adrian was exactly where I'd left him.
Good.
Maybe he could follow instructions.
Sometimes.
For the next couple of hours, things stayed almost normal.
Or whatever normal had become inside Adrian's penthouse.
I made dinner.
He complained about being fed again.
I told him he was welcome to cook for himself.
He looked toward the kitchen.
Then at me.
Then ate what I gave him.
His temperature stayed around 101.
I relaxed.
That was my mistake.
After dinner, I took his plate.
"Okay. Bed."
Adrian looked at me.
"I'm not going to bed."
"Yes, you are."
"It's not even eight."
"You have spent two days sleeping on a couch while running a fever."
"It's my couch."
"Congratulations. You also own a bed."
"Angelica."
"Bedroom."
He stared at me.
I pointed toward the stairs.
"Go."
"You're enjoying this."
"Immensely."
"I noticed."
"Bed."
He stood.
I watched him carefully.
He noticed.
"I can walk."
"Wonderful. Demonstrate."
His eyes narrowed.
But he walked.
I followed him upstairs.
By the time we reached the top, I was watching him even more carefully.
Adrian noticed.
Of course he did.
"I'm fine."
"You just climbed stairs with a fever."
"Successfully."
"Do you want a certificate?"
He ignored me and headed toward his bedroom.
I followed.
His bedroom was exactly what I should have expected from Adrian.
Large.
Clean.
Ridiculously organized.
Everything in its place.
Of course.
Even sick, the man apparently lived like somebody might conduct a surprise inspection.
Adrian got into bed.
I pulled the blanket over him.
He looked at me.
"I can do that."
"I know."
I sat beside him.
Not under the blanket.
Just on top of the bed beside him, my back against the headboard.
Adrian looked at me.
Then at where I was sitting.
Then back at me.
"You don't have to sit there."
"I know."
There it was again.
That sentence.
Apparently I'd been saying it a lot lately.
I picked up my phone.
"Go to sleep."
"You're in my bedroom."
"Excellent observational skills."
"Angelica."
"Sleep."
His eyes stayed on me for another second.
Then closed.
And somehow, that was that.
At eight-forty, I touched his forehead.
Hot.
Too hot.
I sat up properly.
"Adrian."
"Mm."
"Open your eyes."
He did.
Slowly.
I didn't like what I saw.
I grabbed the thermometer.
102.7.
I frowned at it.
"It's going back up."
"I know."
"How do you know?"
"I have a body."
"Debatable."
Normally, that would have earned me something.
A look.
A comment.
At minimum, an offended eyebrow.
Nothing.
I looked at him properly.
His face was flushed again.
His breathing had changed.
Not dangerously.
Just heavier.
Tired.
"You're getting worse again."
"Apparently."
"At least you're admitting it."
His eyes closed.
I checked when he'd last taken medicine.
Gave him the next dose when it was time.
Water.
Another cool cloth.
Waited.
Nine-thirty.
103.1.
"No."
His eyes opened slightly.
"We've discussed your scientific vocabulary."
"I'm serious."
"So am I."
"Your fever is climbing again."
"I noticed."
"If it keeps going up, I'm taking you to the ER."
"No."
I stared at him.
"That wasn't a question."
"No."
"Adrian."
"I'm not going to the hospital."
"You almost hit 104 last night."
"And it came down."
"And now it's going back up."
"It'll come down again."
"You don't know that."
"Neither do you."
"Exactly. That's why hospitals exist."
"No."
I folded my arms.
"You understand that you're in absolutely no position to stop me, right?"
His eyes opened.
Even sick, there was something deeply Adrian about the look he gave me.
"I can still walk."
"Barely."
"I can refuse."
"I can call an ambulance."
"Don't."
"I will."
"Angelica."
"Adrian."
"No hospital."
I stared at him.
He stared back.
Or tried to.
After several seconds, his eyes closed again.
That ended the argument more effectively than anything else could have.
Because suddenly I wasn't annoyed anymore.
I was scared.
I moved closer.
"Hey."
Nothing.
I touched his cheek.
"Adrian."
His eyes opened again.
Barely.
"I'm here."
A pause.
Then-
"I know."
My chest tightened.
I changed the cloth on his forehead.
"I'm checking again in thirty minutes. If it keeps climbing, I don't care how much you argue. We're going."
He didn't answer.
"I mean it."
Still nothing.
"Adrian?"