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“Do not cry. It doesn’t work with me.”
“I don’t know what you mean. I just don’t feel well and you’re not being very nice.”
He scrubbed his face. All right, he could accept that she wasn’t exactly thinking straight, so he shouldn’t expect her to act rationally.
“Okay. I’m sorry.”
“What?” She gaped up at him.
“I’m sorry for being . . . mean.”
“A meanie-bo-beanie.”
He raised an eyebrow at her.
“And as an apology, you’ll get me ice cream.”
“Have you got ice cream?” he asked.
“No. You’d have to go get some.”
“If the doctor says it’s all right, you can have some.”
“What does the doctor know?” she grumbled.
“I assume plenty since he went to school for a long time and then he’s been practicing on actual, live patients,” he said dryly.
“Doesn’t make him an expert on ice cream.”
“That is true. Now, please open your mouth so I can check your temperature.”
“You’re acting weird, Regent-Skigent.”
“So now you’re just going to make up words now to rhyme with my name?”
“Nothing good rhymes with Regent,” she grumbled.
“Hmm, how about obedient?”
“Yes, but you’re not very obedient, are you?”
Such a brat.
“How am I acting weird?” Regent sat even closer to her. He needed to wash her face. She’d get a rash sleeping with all that gunk on her skin.
And he admitted to himself that he didn’t like seeing it covering her face.
“Apologies and pleases.”
“I think it was just one please.”
“Still. Weird.” But she opened her mouth and let him put the thermometer in.
When it beeped, he took it out. “104. I don’t think that’s good.” Regent drew out his phone and searched for what was considered a high temperature. “No wonder you feel so hot.”
“Regent, I don’t feel so good.”
“I know, baby. I’m sorry you don’t feel well.”
