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“Comfy.” I gripped the doorframe with one hand and lifted the opposite shoulder. “Kind of ratty. There’s a hole in the right armpit.”
He dropped his head to the side and broke out into a mostly pathetic grin, though there was a flicker of light in his eyes. “But you kept it.”
“I guess so.” I’d contemplated throwing it away a hundred times, but I could never do it. It was one of those unspoken things that I’d never part with. The things that had made me who I was today. Liam had played a big role in the making of me, and I couldn’t just toss away the memories we shared.
He opened his mouth, but then his eyes went wide and he went rigid. With a groan, he spun back around and retched into the toilet. I winced, and my stomach rolled just a little. I was a mom, a single one at that, so I had plenty of experience in this department. But the sight of this strong, capable man leaned over a toilet in pain was like a physical blow.
I bent down behind him and rubbed his bare back. “All right, buddy. Let it all out.”
He was trembling and clammy, his skin coated in a sheen of sweat. The poor guy probably had a fever too. I turned to the bag I’d dropped at the threshold and pulled out a thermometer. He didn’t fight me as I stuck it under his arm and forced his bicep close to his ribs to hold it in place.
As I suspected, his temperature was 101.8. Bless.
After he hadn’t vomited again for several minutes, I ran my hand across his back, noting the way his muscles relaxed at my touch. “Let’s get you to bed, yeah?”
He shook his head and immediately let out a groan, like the movement hurt him. “You should go. You’ll get sick.”
I ran a hand through his hair, which still looked frustratingly perfect. “I’m a mom. I don’t get sick.” And if I did, I powered through it. Every time.
“Hmm. No, Goldie.” He batted at my hand and hauled himself up.
“Once you lie down, I’ll leave. How about that?” I compromised.
Clearly, he was miserable, because he didn’t so much as pout or argue that time. And when I snagged the grocery bag from the floor again and wandered down the hall, he followed without a sound. Halfway down, I turned to ask where his bedroom was, which felt so wrong, and he flicked his wrist to the right. At the closed door, I stopped and stepped aside so he could enter first.
I was shocked at the sheer size of it. The hardwood floors were older, probably original, but refinished. They were worn smooth and stained a dark brown. The king-size bed was centered on one wall, though it looked bare compared to mine, with only two pillows and a white comforter without even a throw blanket.
There wasn’t a single rug, lamp, painting, or plant to liven the space up. Just the basics. White walls, white comforter, navy pillows, oak furniture. The feminine urge to spruce it up that hit me was the size of a tidal wave. I itched to bring some color and comfort into the place. He’d remodeled and decorated the whole house perfectly, with every update a Pinterest board could hold, yet it still felt off. It was a little cold, despite the warm spring weather.
He zombie-walked to the bed and crawled up it.
“You good, tiger?” I asked as I pulled the blanket up to his neck.
He swallowed thickly, his Adam’s apple working below his dark scruff. “I like having you here.”
I had to fight back a giggle. I liked no-filter Liam. A month ago, I probably wouldn’t have, but things between us had changed so much lately. “Oh yeah? Thinking about renting out a spare bedroom to me?”
“No,” he rasped, his eyes half-closed. “I want you in my bed.”
My lungs seized and heat crept up my cheeks while also licking up my spine. I pulled my hands back and wiped them on my yoga pants.
“I, uh.” I didn’t really know what to say.
“Don’t overthink it. I’m too tired.” His words were mumbled as he nuzzled into the blanket I’d covered him with. “I’m sorry I ruined our plans.”
I splayed my good hand on the mattress and leaned closer. “S’alright. It wasn’t a set date or anything. Things happened.”
“It could have been a set date. I would have made it a date if you wanted me to.”
Sniffing, I mentally waved the comment away and moved on. “You should get some rest.” With a trembling hand, I swept the hair clinging to his forehead to one side, then pressed the back of it to his heated skin.
He hummed. “Okay, honey.”
Heart in my throat, I tiptoed out of the room and closed the door silently. Then I slumped against the wall and sank my teeth into my bottom lip, smiling to myself.
I liked being here too.
I’d lied to him. I had no intention of leaving, but I’d done what I had to do to get him to lie down. Now I had a pot of soup to make and comfort to give. If there was one thing I was good at, it was nurturing.
