Page 18 of Over the Moon (Rosewood River #3)

thirteen

. . .

Clark

I vomited for almost twenty-four hours, and I’d finally fallen asleep for a bit this afternoon. I made my way to the kitchen and poured myself a glass of Gatorade and took a few sips, waiting to see if it would stay down. I still had the chills and a fever, and I was pretty miserable.

It was dark outside, so it was clearly well past dinner time. I glanced around for my phone, knowing my mother had probably called several times since we spoke this morning, and I told her I wouldn’t make it tonight.

There was a knock on my door that I barely would have heard if it wasn’t completely silent in the house. I padded down the dark hallway, flipping on a light as I reached for the door handle.

Eloise Gable stood on the other side, looking gorgeous, as usual.

I was too tired to be annoyed by how pretty she was.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” I asked. “What time is it?”

“It’s 8:30, and I was just leaving your parents’ house. Your mom packaged up some food for you, and I said I’d drop it off on my way home.” She tucked her long brown hair behind her ear and avoided my gaze.

“My house is not on your way home,” I said, feeling horrible but also happy to see her standing at my front door.

“Well, it is if you go the long way.” She chuckled as she moved past me with the bag in her hand.

“You might not want to come in here. I’ve finally stopped puking, but I have a low-grade fever.”

“Don’t be silly,” she said, as she set the bag on the counter and turned to look at me. “I never get sick. I have the strongest immune system one can have.”

Now it was my turn to laugh. “All right, if you say so.”

“Good. So how are you feeling?”

“Like shit.”

She moved toward me, pushing up on her tiptoes, and placed the back of her hand on my forehead. “I don’t think that’s a low-grade fever. You’re burning up.”

“So, you are a doctor?” I smirked.

“Have you taken anything for your fever?”

“Nah. I just woke up right before you showed up. I’m actually feeling a lot better,” I said.

Maybe that’s because you’re here.

She reached for my hand and guided me to the couch. “Lie down. Where’s your medicine cabinet?”

I sat down, leaning forward to rub my head. “It’s in my bathroom.”

She disappeared down the hall and returned with ibuprofen and a glass of water.

She also had a thermometer in her hand, and she ran her fingers through my hair, turning my head to the side, before pressing it into my ear.

The little beep came, and she handed me the ibuprofen and the glass of water.

“You’ve got a hundred and one-degree fever.

You need to be taking both ibuprofen and Tylenol until this fever breaks. Lie down.”

I did what she asked after I set the glass on the table. She found the blanket at the other end of the couch and draped it over me as she dropped to sit on the floor next to me.

“I’d call you bossy, but I’m too tired to argue with you.”

She chuckled. “Good. Have you eaten anything?”

“No. I just stopped puking a few hours ago, and then I fell asleep.”

“All right. Let’s try to get some food in you,” she said.

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll rally for practice tomorrow.”

Her eyes widened. “You will not be working out tomorrow. I’m not here to help you in hopes that you can get in a workout. I’m not a tyrant.”

“I don’t ever miss workouts.”

“Well, you’re missing tomorrow, because I won’t train you,” she said, before pushing to stand and walking toward the kitchen.

I didn’t argue.

I just lay there, listening to her move around my kitchen.

She returned with some toast and some cut-up banana. “Let’s try this. Take a few bites, and we’ll see how you feel.”

I sat forward and reached for the plate as she took a seat beside me on the couch. I ate a few bites and groaned because it was damn good. “I’m starving, so that’s a good sign.”

“Yeah, but you want to take it slow.”

“All right.” I nodded. “Well, thank you for stopping by and for doing all this.”

“I’m not leaving,” she said, sounding offended.

“I wasn’t kicking you out. I just figured you’d want to get home.”

“Well, you figured wrong,” she said, the corners of her lips turning up the slightest bit.

“I’ll be fine for practice on Tuesday. You don’t need to worry about it.” I finished the second piece of toast.

“I’m not here as your trainer,” she said, shaking her head as if the idea were appalling.

“I didn’t mean to offend you,” I said, scrubbing a hand down my face. I was exhausted. “I know how important your job is to you, that’s all I meant. I’ll be back on track in a day.”

“My job is important to me, but as much as I’ve fought you on it, I consider you a friend.” Her dark brown gaze searched mine. “I’m here as a friend, not a trainer.”

“A friend -friend, or a professional friend?” I teased.

“A friend-friend.” She arched a brow and sighed.

“Okay,” I said, as I leaned back against the couch, my hand brushing against hers as she sat beside me. “How was Sunday dinner?”

“It was very entertaining,” she chuckled. “Bridger made several digs at Emilia. I heard all about Rafe’s toilet. And your mother recited the lyrics to her favorite song by Jelly Roll, per Lulu’s insistence.”

“‘Save Me?’” I barked out a laugh. “She loves that fucking song.”

“Well, I added it to my playlist because she was so passionate about the lyrics.”

“Yeah. She’s the best. She wanted to come over earlier, but I didn’t want to get her sick. But here you are, huh?”

“Here I am.”

“Such a good friend-friend. Nothing professional about this friendship,” I said teasingly.

“I think so. Not that you can say the same, seeing as you didn’t even respond to my texts earlier.”

“I haven’t been on my phone today,” I said.

“Maybe you got sick at the bar last night with Sasha and Laney.” She made no attempt to hide her irritation.

“Ahhh… that’s what you think, huh?” I rubbed my temples, and I saw the concern in her gaze just as she insisted I lie back down, and she slipped down on the floor, sitting right in front of me.

“You seemed excited to go, and you were acting kind of weird to me, that’s all,” she said.

Was she kidding me right now?

“You sound a little jealous, Weeze.”

“Jealous? No. I am so not jealous. Why would I be jealous? We’re friends.

But you did leave the ice rink with two hot women, and then you didn’t answer my text.

And you were acting a little distant, so I thought you were avoiding me when you weren’t at Sunday dinner,” she said, her arms flailing around.

But she was showing me a vulnerable side that she rarely shared.

“But then when I heard you were sick, I didn’t care if you were avoiding me.

I just wanted to make sure you were okay. ”

I scrubbed a hand over the back of my neck and groaned. I hated that she felt that way, but I was glad that she cared enough to be bothered by it. How fucked up is that?

“I really am sick.”

“I can obviously see that. So did you have fun with Sasha and Laney?”

She was asking again.

Whether she wanted to admit it or not, she was clearly jealous.

“It was fine.”

“Fine? Just fine? I’m sure it was more than fine,” she said, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip.

“I didn’t have fun. I went out with them because I wanted to make you jealous.” I shrugged. “I had one drink, and I went home. Started puking shortly after.”

“Really?” She arched a brow.

“I have no reason to lie. It’s not like we’re together.” My pinky finger wrapped around hers. “You’ve just now agreed to be friends.”

“So why did you want to make me jealous, then?” she asked, intertwining her fingers in mine.

“Because I saw you talking to that asshole, Brett, and I didn’t like it.”

“Why?” she whispered. “He was just there, and he opened up about his dad. His father is not doing well. I empathize with that, you know?”

Well now I felt like a dick. I might not be a fan of Brett’s, but I wouldn’t wish that on anyone, and I liked his father. “I’m sorry to hear that. And it was kind of you to speak to him about it.”

“So you saw me talking to Brett, and then you left with Laney and Sasha to make me jealous? Why?”

“I don’t know, Eloise. It’s dumb. I guess I thought you liked him, and you just weren’t telling me.”

“And that bothered you?”

“It bothered me,” I said, my gaze locking with hers.

“I don’t like him.”

“Good. He’s an asshole, but I am sorry to hear about this dad. But at the end of the day, you deserve better.”

She chuckled. “What do I deserve?”

“You deserve the best. You deserve everything you want, Eloise.” I tucked the hair behind her ear, my thumb stroking her cheek as her gaze locked with mine.

Her eyes were wide and trusting as I took in the dusting of freckles on the bridge of her nose.

Her breaths were coming faster now, and it took all I had not to pull her onto my lap.

“I’m not used to you calling me by my actual name. You did it yesterday, and I thought you were annoyed with me.” Her voice was just above a whisper.

“And I’m doing it today, and I’m definitely not annoyed with you.” I chuckled, my gaze locked with hers. “I’m being serious with you. You deserve only the best.”

“You’re so much better than a professional friend, Clark Chadwick.” She smiled, and I swear my fucking chest squeezed.

Even lying here with a fever, I wanted this woman.

I wanted her so bad I didn’t know how to handle it.

“What if I’m a professional friend who wants to kiss you?” I stroked the inside of her palm with my thumb.

“That wouldn’t be very professional,” she smirked.

“I think you want to kiss me, too. I think that’s why you got jealous yesterday. I think that’s why you’re here, because you like me, Weeze.”

She sighed. “We’ve talked about this. It can’t go anywhere, so why bother?”

“Then why are you here?”

“Because we’re friends,” she said, her tongue darting out to swipe along her bottom lip. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Why is it so hard for you to admit that you like me?” I intertwined my fingers with hers.

“You know I like you. I’m not denying that.”

“Then admit that you want to kiss me, too,” I said, as I pressed my lips to the inside of her palm.

“You already know that I want to kiss you, but that doesn’t change anything. It can’t go anywhere.”

“That’s a ridiculous reason not to let this happen,” I said, happy that she was finally admitting she felt the same way I did. “I mean, I’m assuming you’ve kissed other men before, right?”

I kissed the inside of her wrist.

“Obviously. I’m a grown woman.” Her words were breathy.

“And they aren’t here now. So just because you kiss someone doesn’t mean you have to know where it’s going. It’s just a kiss.”

“Fair point. And maybe we’ll kiss and hate it,” she said, sounding ridiculously hopeful that it would be awful, when I was fairly certain it wouldn’t be.

“One can hope,” I teased.

“Well, I can’t kiss you now, you have a fever.”

“I’ve been hot for you before today. Don’t let a fever scare you off.” I chuckled as my hand moved around the side of her neck.

She leaned closer, eyes falling closed as her lips were just a breath away.

“Oh, my god,” she said, pulling back abruptly. “Oh, no!”

And she took off running down the hall.

I pushed to my feet. The ibuprofen clearly kicked in because I felt much better now.

I heard her heaving, and I groaned as I pushed the door open and found her hovered over the toilet.

“Clark, you can’t be in here!” she shouted.

I reached for a washcloth in the vanity and rinsed it with cool water before wringing it out and folding it in half and placing it on the back of her neck beneath her hair. “Just relax. I come from a big family. I’ve seen plenty of vomit in my lifetime. Rafe has a sensitive stomach.”

She heaved again, and I held her hair back.

We sat there with her puking and me crouched down behind her, rubbing her back.

After she continued to get sick over and over, it finally stopped.

“I cannot believe I just puked in front of you for thirty minutes after you were about to kiss me. I’ve definitely hit rock bottom,” she said, a sad chuckle escaping as she flushed the toilet and then leaned over the sink and rinsed her mouth out several times before dropping to sit on the floor.

I dropped to sit beside her, pulling her into my chest and wrapping my arms around her. I pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head.

The fact that she let me see this vulnerable side of her, that she allowed me to stay and comfort her—it did something to me.

“I thought you were about to kiss me?” I laughed.

“Well, I told you it was a bad idea. We were cursed from the start.”

“How are we cursed? Nothing happened… yet.”

“We were about to kiss, and then I puked violently over and over. And now I don’t even know if I can muster the energy to walk home. I’d say this was a bust.” She groaned as she attempted to push to her feet and stumbled.

I caught her, quickly scooping her up in my arms and carrying her out of the bathroom.

“Why are you carrying me like a baby?” she said, and her voice sounded exhausted, like she had no fight in her at the moment.

I wasn’t surprised. She was sick, and I was still coming out of this, so I knew how bad she must be feeling.

“You’re not walking home. We’re both sick. We can commiserate together.” I carried her to my room and set her on the bed. “I’ve got a fever, and I can’t drive you home, and you just had an Exorcist -worthy puking experience, and you’re not going anywhere.”

“Clark, I don’t have the energy to laugh or to fight you right now,” she said, her eyes barely staying open as she pulled her legs up and hugged them to her chest. “My stomach is cramping.”

“I know it is, but I promise it’ll pass soon.” I climbed onto the bed facing her and stroked her hair. “Just breathe through it.”

“I cannot believe we’re lying in your bed, and we’re both sick. This is not how I imagined this going,” she whispered, before moaning and hugging her legs tighter.

“So you have been imagining it,” I said, as her arms released her legs, and she relaxed. My free hand found hers, and our fingers intertwined.

“Yes, Clark. I’ve imagined it,” she whispered.

I pulled her close to me and wrapped my arms around her.

“Me, too, Weeze.”

Her breathing slowed, and her warm cheek rested against my chest.

And sleep took us both.