Page 63 of Elf-ish

“Warming you up.” I wrap my arm over her waist and tug her tighter to my chest. I tuck my knees behind hers and press them upward, like she’s sitting in my lap. I set her cold feet on top of mine, touching every place I can so the heat of my body seeps into hers.

“If you wanted to get in bed with me, all you had to do was ask,” she mutters.

“And if you wanted to see me again, you didn’t need to play sick. You could have called.” Not that she’s faking this illness. But why hadn’t she called me sooner?

She scoffs, snuggling deeper into me. I press my lips to the back of her hair. She smells like sugar and spice again, but also warm and dewy from the fever. I slip my arm beneath her oversized T-shirt so we are skin to skin as much as we can be. She settles into the added warmth against her belly.

“I’m sorry you’re sick.” It’s all my fault. Wet hair and a cold walk. Prolonged exposure while ice skating. I should have taken better care of her.

“It’s not your fault I feel bad,” she says, her voice still quiet and sleepy.

“But I want you to feel better,” I mutter to her neck. I want to make everything better.

“Just a few more days,” she murmurs, like she knows exactly how long she’ll be ill.

A few more days. I close my eyes, curious if she’d like another day with me.

I’d like more than another day with her.

+ + +

By late afternoon, Angelica is complaining about being too hot and scooting out of my grasp. Surprisingly, I’d fallen asleep as well, and I roll to my back as she moves away from me.

“How are you feeling?” I ask, as she lies on her back as well and kicks her legs out from underneath the covers.

“Hot.” She rolls her head on the pillow to look at me.

I have several comebacks, but instead, I blurt something very ill-timed. “Let me take you to your brother’s wedding.”

Angelica shifts her head for a better look at me. “Jude.” She sighs. “You don’t need to do that.”

“I don’t want you to think I’m selfish. You were my date. Now let me be yours.”

She shakes her head and turns to face the ceiling again. “That wouldn’t be the reason I’d consider you selfish.”

I shift to my side and prop up on my elbow. “Then explain it to me.”

Her head whips back in my direction. “Why does my opinion matter?”

Because you matter to me. For reasons I cannot explain, what she thinks of me has struck a chord.

“I’d just like to know what my offenses are.” I tip my chin, bracing for a list of infractions. “Why did you change your mind about dating me?”

“It was one date, Jude.”

“Two,” I remind her. A rehearsal dinner and the wedding.

She exhales heavily. “When you suggested that my volunteering set you in the good graces of your board, it diminished the work.”

“I—” I’m cut off as she looks away from me. “I’m sorry.” However, the apology is too late.

“Volunteering time. It’s on the list,” I state.

She rolls her head back in my direction. “You read the list?” Her large eyes are still fever-riddled but beautiful when she blinks at me.

I shrug, dropping my gaze to her arm that rests on top of the covers. Her skin is so pale, so soft.

“I’m trying to do the list,” I admit, keeping my eyes focused on the crease of her elbow.