Page 50 of Waiting for Acceptance (Nashville Nights #5)

FITZ

We barely made it back to Lauren’s place before she was practically falling out of the passenger seat to throw up.

The color has completely drained from her face, making it absent of that usual rosy color I’ve grown to love.

She made it to her bathroom to brush her teeth, but almost threw up again halfway through it, then went straight to her bed.

She lies down on the foot of it, still completely dressed with her shoes on and everything, as her eyes begin to flutter closed.

“I hate throwing up in front of you. It’s so not cute,” she mumbles into her comforter as I slide her shoes off.

“Go to sleep, Trouble.” She dozes off and I leave her room, shutting the door behind me before pulling my phone out. I check the time and say a prayer that the person I need to call isn’t already sleeping.

Ring ring ring.

“Hello?” I smile when I hear her voice.

“Hey Gran.”

“My boy. Is everything okay?”

“Yes and no.”

“Oh? What’s the matter, sweetheart?” I look back at Lauren’s closed door.

“Well, my girlfriend is sick and?—”

“Young man! Is this how you’re telling me you have a girlfriend?” I smile as she calls Pops into the room, yelling about how I have a girlfriend and didn’t call to tell them sooner. “Well, you’re bringing her here for us to meet her soon, right?”

“If you want to meet her, I’ll bring her up there soon.”

“Damn right, you will.” My mouth falls open in shock.

“ Gran. I’ve never known you to be a swearing lady,” I tease her and I can picture her face turning red.

“Well, I’ve never known you to call any woman you’ve been with your girlfriend . This is a big deal.” I look, once again, at the closed door Lauren lays behind, with a sense of tranquility washing over me like rain.

“Yeah. It is.”

“Okay then. You said she was sick?” I hadn’t realized how comfortable I’d gotten calling Lauren my girlfriend without the weight of the “agreement” we made in the back of my mind, reminding me this all has an expiration date.

Things got so real so quickly for me, I’m no longer sure if she’s still just playing along—and playing really fucking well—or if she feels it too.

“Vincent Fitzgerald. Are you listening to me?”

I clear my throat and try to remember anything Gran said while I was spaced out. “Sorry, Gran.”

“That’s okay, dear. I know you’re probably worried about her. I was just asking what was the matter with her. What kind of sickness?”

“Um, she threw up earlier and she looks really pale.”

“Did she feel feverish when you touched her?”

“I don’t know. Should I know what that feels like? Her hands are always freezing, but her forehead is always warm, but not hot. How do you know if someone has a fever?” There’s silence on the other end of the line so I look down to make sure we didn’t get disconnected. “Gran?”

“You’re going to do just fine taking care of her, sweetheart.

If she’s hot to the touch but says she’s cold, she likely has a fever.

If that happens, she can sweat it out or try to get her in a lukewarm bath, and fever reducer is sold at stores over the counter so that won’t be hard to find.

Make sure she stays hydrated if she keeps throwing up.

Chicken noodle soup and crackers with some ginger ale always does the trick—you should remember that.

” I smile, remembering all the times I got sick and Gran would make me her famous chicken noodle soup and run me a bubble bath to help my muscles relax after contracting from vomiting so much.

“I do. Thank you, Gran.”

“You’re more than welcome. So…what’s she like? This girlfriend of yours.” I smile, feeling a wave of emotion creep its way up my throat as I try and put into words what Lauren is like.

“She’s…amazing. She’s incredible at her job, she’s an amazing friend, and has such a big heart, but she’s funny and witty.

I mean, she puts up with my shit and still sticks around, so that says a lot about her.

” That makes Gran laugh. “She’s like…you know how it feels to watch the sunrise?

How captivating and calming it is to watch something so beautiful just…

exist? That’s what she’s like. She’s the sun to me. ”

“Well, I can’t wait to meet her. Call me if you need anything else, but I think you’re more than capable of giving her what she needs, Vincent.”

“Good night, Gran.”

“Good night, my sweet boy.” I hang up the phone and swing into action, looking through her fridge and cabinets to see if she has any of the things I need.

She doesn’t, of course. I check in on her one more time, placing a trash can right beside where she’s lying and tuck a piece of hair behind her ear, but when I hear her snore I know I should be in the clear to run to the store and make it back before she needs me again.

Her fridge is fully stocked with sports drinks and ginger ale, chicken and vegetables for homemade chicken soup, and ingredients for one of Gran’s special recipes for when she can keep food down again.

I even grabbed some bath salts and bubble bath for her, and a new blanket just because it’s soft as hell and I wanted her to feel it.

I strip down to my boxer briefs, then help her out of her clothes, leaving her in nothing but her underwear while I look for a T-shirt to put on her.

She makes little noises as I pull the shirt down over her head and lift her to take her to her side of the bed, taking the trash can with us before putting her phone on the charger and climbing into bed too.

Ginny climbs back up on the bed when I’m finished relocating Lauren, curling up in the bend of her knees, and while the two of them sleep, I turn the TV on, keeping an eye on Lauren just in case she needs me.

I don’t even feel sleepy, but the next thing I know, I’m waking up to the sound of Ginny meowing so loud you’d think she was stuck in a trash can.

I look at the clock, noting that it’s just after 5 AM.

“What is your damage, porch cat?” She walks into the kitchen and meows again, clearly summoning me to follow her. Then she paws at her empty bowl.

“You are just like your adoptive mother, you know that?” I pour food in her bowl and she starts chowing down.

“There you go, girl.” I head back to Lauren’s room and pull her curtains closed, not wanting the sun to wake her up in a couple of hours when she should be resting.

Then I slide back into bed next to her, and she rolls over, laying her arm on my chest. Then she lets out a little sigh and I smile, kissing the top of her head before dozing off with her.