Chapter Nineteen
“Luna?” A couple of hours later, Keegan’s head shoots up.
“How are you feeling?” I sit on the edge and once again feel his forehead. Then I reach for more meds on the nightstand and hand them to him along with a glass of water.
“You’re still here.” Keegan sits up.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I say.
“You really don’t—”
“I know, I know.” I wave him off. “You can quit trying to get rid of me, though. I’m staying.”
His face softens. “Thanks, Luna.”
“Plus,” I say. “I need to feed you.”
I leave the room, warm up the soup, and bring it to him. “This is the best soup you’ll ever have.”
“You got me soup?” He studies the bowl in my hands as if he doesn’t believe me.
“And a few other groceries as well,” I say. “Your fridge was pretty bare.”
“You didn’t have to,” Keegan says.
Keegan spoons the soup into his mouth as I look on. His coloring is already starting to improve, as some pink has started to form on his cheeks.
“When I was young,” Keegan says between spoonfuls. “No matter what I was sick with, my mom would make me homemade soup and let me have a can of Sprite.”
“It’s okay to ask for help, you know.” I bend my knee and tuck my foot underneath. “You don’t have to go at things alone all the time.”
Keegan slowly blinks. “Asking for help isn’t a strong suit of mine.”
“Can I draw you a bath?” I ask. “Get you into some clean clothes?”
“No bath,” Keegan says. “Sitting in my filth and sweat does not sound appealing to me.”
I chuckle at this. “Fine. But you should go shower, and I will change your sheets.”
Keegan nods and then looks at my outfit. “Sheets are in the linen closet in the hallway. And feel free to go through my clothes and put on something more comfortable.”
Keegan goes to his ensuite bathroom, shuts the door, and a steady stream of water turns on. I strip the bedding and throw it in the washer, and make up Keegan’s bed. I go back to his room and do a little snooping. His top drawer is filled with perfectly folded underwear and athletic socks. The next drawer down is full of cotton shirts. I smile as I see one from Cherry that says Mathletics across the front. I decide to put that one on, then grab a pair of scrub bottoms, and cinch them tightly around my waist.
The shower is still running, so I explore the rest of his place. The library is beautiful, with two blue velvet chaises pointed in the direction of the books. There are so many of them on floor-to-ceiling shelves. I run my hand along the spines of his countless anatomy textbooks.
Then I stroll to the kitchen, which is a chef’s dream. The island is massive and opens up to the inviting living room. I walk over look out a window and take a deep breath. If I lived here, I’d never leave. I heat more soup for Keegan and grab an orange from the bowl on the island to bring to him.
Keegan startles when I walk into the room. It’s as if he’s forgotten he’s not alone. He had time to pull on flannel pajama bottoms that hang off his hips, but he holds a gray shirt in his hand. Water drips down his taut chest. I pull my lips into my mouth and glance at Keegan, who I’m pretty sure catches me staring.
“I brought more food,” I say, holding out the bowl. “And while I have you shirtless, let me put some vapor rub on your back.”
His skin is sun-kissed and golden brown, and his muscles come together perfectly in an intricate pattern of perfection. I shake my head when I realize I’m staring again.
“Okay.” Keegan’s eyes rake down my body until they settle on the food in my hand. “I like your shirt.”
“It’s always been my dream to wear someone’s Mathletics shirt, so thank you.”
Keegan tries to laugh but ends up having a coughing fit instead. He sits on the edge of the bed, and I stand over him, putting the vapor rub on his upper back. I then move to the front, standing between his legs. His skin is aflame beneath my touch, and his muscles are hard and well-defined. I start by rubbing the vapor rub behind his ears and over his lymph nodes, but then spread my fingers and rub more over his hard chest. I relish feeling his muscles beneath my touch.
“There,” I say. “That should provide some relief.”
Keegan studies me, his brows knitted together. He then lets out a deep breath, pulls his shirt over his head, and gets under the covers.
“It’s really late,” Keegan says, yawning. “And my entire body aches.”
“Let me grab some meds,” I say. “We need to get your fever down.”
“I always knew you’d make a great doctor,” Keegan says, gripping my hand. “Even if you are terrible at math.”
“Thanks.” I rub my eyes but smile. “I really appreciate your vote of confidence.”
“You should stay with me,” Keegan says, patting the bed beside him. “My bed is too big for just one person.”
Before I have a chance to answer, Keegan’s eyes are closed. I exhale a deep breath and consider folding the covers down and getting in. But then I decide that this isn’t the time to overcomplicate things, and I walk out and sleep on the couch for the night.