Page 106 of Beneath the Blue Moon

***Casey***

“Mmm….”

“Casey… sweetheart?”

Ethan. What’s with the pounding in my head and the

desert in my throat?

“Wa…ter.”

“Here, honey.”

I close my lips around a straw and pull the refreshing

liquid into my mouth.

“Slow down,” he warns.

I open my eyes and find him leaning over me with worry

creasing his brow. I try to stroke his cheek, but pain shoots up my arm when I

try to move it. There’s a tube sticking out from under a piece of tape on my

wrist. Am I in a hospital? No. I’m in our bedroom.

“What… happened?”

“You had a fever. You’ve been unconscious for a few days.”

So that’s what that dream was. It was just a figment of my

imagination—images concocted by my feverish brain. When I try to sit up, he

helps me, holding me against him while he stacks pillows behind me. He offers

me the glass again, and I drink until my thirst is quenched.

“Thank you.”

My voice is still scratchy, but at least I can talk.

“How do you feel?”

“Okay.”

“The fever broke, so that’s good.”

“Have you been taking care of me?” I ask.

“Every day.”

“Huh… Did that include sponge baths?”

I see a hint of a smile as he strokes my cheek.

“Every day.”

“Lucky you.”

“You seemed to enjoy them.”

“I have no doubt that I did.”

Just thinking about him doing it has me feeling a little

hot. I pat the bed, and he climbs in next to me with a heavy sigh. I lay my

head on his chest as he wraps his arm around my shoulders.

“You smell different. New cologne?”

“Are you telling me I stink?” He chuckles.

“No, you don’t smell bad… just different. I like it.”

As a matter of fact, he smells awesome. I can’t stop

sniffing him. Someone’s coming. I hear footsteps. Clara appears at the door

with a huge smile on her face.

“Casey, dear, I brought you something to eat.”

“Thanks.”

“I’ve been worried sick about you,” she says as she strokes

my cheek.

“I’m okay.”

“I see that. I’m off now, give you two some privacy.”

“Thanks, Clara.”

“No problem, dear.”

Ethan helps me up and takes the tray from Clara’s hands. The

aromas of chicken noodle soup and beef stew waft into my nose and my stomach

growls in anticipation. After he removes the tube from my wrist, he picks up

the spoon and looks over at me expectantly.

“Open.”

“Um…” I look down at my legs, and he chuckles.

“Your mouth, Casey.”

“Um….”

“You and your dirty mind. I’m going to feed you. Open.”

“Yes, sir!”

With every bite, I feel my strength returning. As a matter

of fact, I feel good… really good. I’m almost bouncing on the bed by the time I

have the last bite. I also feel different. It’s like my body got an upgrade. I’m

hearing better; everything looks like I’m seeing in HD, and I can even pick out

different scents. I feel strong, not like I just woke up after being

unconscious with a fever for days.

“Sit still,” Ethan says.

“How long was I out?”

“Four days.”

“Ugh! Then I’ve been sittin’ still long enough. I’m gonna

take a shower. I must look a mess.”

“You’re beautiful.”

“Aww, you’re such a great liar.”

I hop off the bed as he chuckles, shaking his head.

“Call me if you need anything.”

“Yep.”

The moment the water touches my skin, the urge to sing

blazes through me. For the life of me, the only song coming to mind is Duran

Duran’s “Hungry Like The Wolf.” Oh, well.

“Do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do….”

What’s gotten into me? I swear Clara must be like some

magician or something with her food and teas. I shower, wash my hair, shave, and

brush my teeth in record time, singing and dancing away. As I stand before the

mirror brushing my wet hair, my brush becomes a microphone. I do feel hungry… but

not for food.

“Ethan!”

He sticks his head in the door a few seconds later.

“Need something?”

I turn to him, biting my lip, my eyes roving his body. His

posture changes and he stands straight, regarding me with the same hunger. I

drop my towel and move toward him.

“Yeah. You.”

He steps back, giving me a look of uncertainty. Every step I

take toward him, he takes one back.

“Casey, are you sure about this?”

The backs of his knees hit the bed, and I push at his chest

so he falls back. I climb on top of him, pushing his shirt up over his chest.

“Do I look unsure? Let’s do something about that, shall we?”