“Take messages, and if they need to be addressed today, please email them to me. I’ll check in periodically and do what I can from home.” When my alarm went off this morning, I checked Janelle’s forehead—not that I needed to, considering her body radiated enough heat to suffice a small town in Maine for the winter. There was no way I could’ve left her alone in that condition. It didn’t matter if she ended up sleeping all day, she didn’t need to be by herself. So I sent Matt a text and called Ronnie with instructions. “Yes, just tell them my wife has the flu, so I’m at home taking care of her. She needs me. You know how to get ahold of me if you need to.”

I made sure to keep my voice as low as possible to keep from waking her while I concluded my phone call outside my bedroom door. I had no idea why I brought her to my bed last night, and then crawled beneath the covers with her, but I told myself it was to be close in case she needed me.

Apparently, I must’ve also convinced myself that she was dying. Because I wasn’t sure what all I could do for someone with the flu, or what she could’ve possibly needed other than a drink. But that didn’t matter, because in the event she needed something, I was there. Right next to her.

All. Night. Long.

God, I seriously needed help if I anticipated making it to the end of our agreement.

When I walked back into my room, the early morning sunlight drifted in through the window across from the bed and painted the walls in a warm glow. It also made Janelle appear to be an angel in my bed…who was no longer peacefully asleep, but lying there, staring at me with intense eyes.

“Sorry, I was trying to be quiet. I thought leaving the room and closing the door would’ve helped. I didn’t mean to wake you up.” I crawled beneath the blankets and crossed my arms behind my head. I more than likely wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep, but that didn’t keep me out of bed.

She stared at me, and I stared back, neither one of us making a move—physical or verbal. Finally, she cleared her throat and said, “You didn’t wake me up. At least, I don’t think you did.”

“Do you need anything? Something to eat…drink? Anything?”

“No.” Her voice was groggy, but it didn’t seem to stop her from talking. “I’m just freezing. I think that’s what woke me up. I was nice and warm all night, and now I can’t stop shaking.”

I pulled the covers to her neck and then tucked them around her body. Without delay, she curled into my side and rested her head on my shoulder, so I wrapped my arm around her and held her tighter. And as if that still wasn’t close enough for her, she slipped her hand beneath my white T-shirt and settled her palm against the middle of my chest.

“You know, you’re like a furnace when you sleep,” I mumbled into her hair.

“I’m also running a fever.”

When I laughed under my breath, it jostled her body, so I pulled her even closer into my side, as if it would protect her more. “Well, there’s that, too. I would’ve taken my shirt off but I worried about how you’d react if you woke up and noticed me next to you half-naked.”

“You’re warm, so I doubt I would’ve reacted any other way than grateful for your body heat.”

Without saying anything else, I eased her off me and sat up to pull my shirt over my head. After tossing it to the floor, I reclined against my pillow again and then lifted my arm, inviting her to reclaim her position by my side. Once she got comfortable with her head on my shoulder, cheek against my pec, and arm draped along my chest, I wrapped my arm around her again.

“You called me your wife,” she whispered while her fingers absentmindedly fiddled with the small patch of hair in the middle of my chest. “A minute ago, when you were on the phone, you called me your wife.”

“Oh, yeah. I had called the office to let them know I wouldn’t be in today. It’s just easier than explaining who you are, and if I called you my roommate, it wouldn’t have the same effect.”

“But what about Matt? What if he hears you say that?”

I grinned to myself and stared at the ceiling. “He’s the one who started it. A couple weeks ago, Ronnie had suggested we all go out for a drink after work, and I said I couldn’t. Matt’s the one who said I had to get home to my wife, and it’s been an ongoing joke since then.”

Her body seemed to stiffen with my explanation. I only hoped I hadn’t made her uncomfortable—either by calling her my wife to someone else, or for telling her how her brother had been the one to start it. But for some reason, talking to someone else and calling her my wife did something to me, something I couldn’t explain. My chest felt bigger and my heartbeats felt stronger.

Although, admitting that felt like jumping out of an airplane without a parachute—absolutely frightening. Which boggled my mind considering I wasn’t much of a fearful person. Once I made up my mind I wanted something, I went after it. For all things except Janelle. And the only reason to explain that was our history and connection to one another. We had been close friends once, and I believed we had made it back to that place in each other’s lives.

The last time our friendship had been taken to another level, we spent five years not talking. I wasn’t willing to chance that again. Not to mention, if things between us didn’t work out, it would only make everything harder. Losing someone you care about because of a breakup is always difficult, no matter what the reason. But losing an entire family and possibly a business partner and best friend is far worse. It’s unfathomable. And a risk I adamantly refused to take.

Breaking me from my thoughts, she sighed and stilled her hand. “I can’t believe I’ve slept in the same bed with you twice, yet can’t remember either time. Not to mention, you’re starting to give me a complex. I’ve woken up both times alone.”

“If it makes you feel any better, there was nothing about last night worth remembering.”

Her fingers began to move across my skin again, but this time, it wasn’t mindlessly. I could sense her hesitation by the way she circled them in the same spot, as if mentally preparing herself to say something. Finally, I gave in, unable to handle her inner torture any longer.

“Whatever you have on your mind, Janelle…just say it.”

“Did you wear a condom?” She must’ve sensed my body turn rigid, because she pressed her palm against the center of my chest, right over my racing heart, and rephrased her question. “In Vegas, did you wear a condom?”

I tightened my arm around her, not hard, but enough to hide how much her question made me react. At least I hoped it was enough to hide it. I took a moment and attempted to control my breathing in order to slow my heart rate. I had no idea how to answer, and had I known this would’ve been her question, I never would’ve prodded her to speak up. But I did prod and she did ask, so the only thing left to do was answer. And I had to be truthful. “Um…the first time, yes.”

“But not the other times?”

It was such a simple question, one that required a one-word answer. Yes or no. However, the problem was how she’d react to that one word. And in all honesty, the complete answer was far more than yes or no, because it required an explanation—one I wasn’t sure she’d be okay with.

“I think I have the right to know if we had unprotected sex.”

I tightened my arm around her briefly before loosening my hold and dropping my hand to rest against her lower back. “No…not the other times. Right before the second time, you told me you were okay. So I didn’t mention it again. I never asked you what you meant by being okay…I just assumed you were on the Pill or something.”

She shook her head against my chest and my heart quit beating. “I wasn’t. I mean, I’d gotten a prescription for it when I had planned on having sex with Justin, but after that fell through, I didn’t see the point in starting it. I didn’t actually start taking it until after Vegas.”

I was almost afraid to speak when I asked, “So you weren’t…okay?”

“Well, I mean, yeah. I didn’t get pregnant or anything. So I guess that means I was fine.” She craned her head back and leaned away slightly to peer at me. “My God, Holden. It could’ve been so bad. Babies aside, what about diseases? I understand we were both drunk, and there really isn’t any reason to be upset knowing the outcome was fine, but that shouldn’t be an excuse.”

I brought my other hand up to capture her face, force her to keep her head back and eyes on me. I needed her full attention when I told her this. “That was the only time I’ve ever had sex without a condom. Even to this day, you’re the only person I’ve ever had unprotected sex with. Pill or not, I’ve never gone bareback with anyone but you.”

When her body relaxed, muscles loosening, I released her face and let her curl into my side once more. As soon as I had her settled against me, I rested my cheek against the top of her head and whispered, “And trust me, you were a virgin. You certainly didn’t lie about that.”

“If you had been sober that night, would you have still slept with me?”

I tried my best to mentally go back there, but in an alternate universe in order to give her the most honest answer. But no matter what, hypotheticals were always impossible, because what you think you might do, isn’t always what you would do in that situation.

“I don’t know, Janelle,” I said with a slight shrug. “I can’t answer that. I would like to believe I wouldn’t. Obviously, sleeping with my best friend’s little sister would be wrong. It would also be wrong to take your virginity after you cried on my shoulder when your boyfriend left you for not sleeping with him. I want to say I’d have more respect for you than that.”

“But…?”

“But if I’m being honest…I’m a guy. You’re a girl. You practically threw yourself at me, begged me to take you, so I doubt I would’ve had much self-control whether I was stone-cold sober or not. You absolutely refused to hear the word no. I was fearful—you totally took advantage of me.”

She giggled and then groaned, immediately filling me with guilt for making her laugh when she was still so sick. “So you’re basically saying you slept with me because I was your best friend’s pathetic little sister who begged you to do what no other guy had done and deflower me. And you were too much of a horndog to say no. Is that it? That’s why we slept together?”

I stroked her back and contemplated how I should answer. Her questions evoked a winless battle. It was no secret how much I enjoyed going back and forth with her, teasing and laughing and egging each other on, but I also knew she was sick. Most importantly, she deserved the truth. So that’s what I decided to give her. “Not at all,” I whispered against the top of her head while my fingers trailed down her back, dancing along the curve of her hip.

“So then why did you sleep with me?”

“I can’t answer that.”

“Why not?” she pressed, unwilling to let it go.

“Because I don’t have an answer for you, Janelle. I’ve tried to understand my feelings for you that summer, but I can’t. I couldn’t then when it was going on, and I can’t now. No matter how much I pick it apart. For whatever reason, I was into you back then. But it’s obvious it wasn’t meant to be. Is that what you want to hear?”

Rather than respond or follow up with more questions, she tucked her chin close to her chest and clung to me even more, as if I were a life preserver and she couldn’t swim. It was the same way she had held onto me that night, right before we both finally fell asleep. It was the last time I’d felt her arms around me like this, and I never wanted this moment to end.

But I knew it had to.

I secured her to me as if on instinct. “I know you don’t feel well and you should be sleeping, but if you want to talk—about that night or anything else—I’ll answer everything I can. You deserve to have all your questions answered.”

“I’m not sure what to say, Holden. I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel.” The heat from her shaky words wafted across my bare chest. “My stomach is in knots, like I could throw up at any second, but I don’t understand why. I’m angry, yet I have no right to be. I’m upset…for no reason. I have no idea what you want me to say.”

I curled my fingers beneath her chin and lifted it, forcing her to look at me. “You have every right to be angry and upset. That’s how I’ve felt about myself since it happened—well, since the next morning. I hate that we slept together after you had so much to drink. I swear, Janelle…had I known, I never would’ve touched you. I never would’ve taken you to that chapel.”

Her eyes closed and a sigh escaped through her parted lips. She seemed so sad, and I wanted nothing more than to make her smile again. It was as though I needed her happiness to keep going.

“Well, that’s not entirely true. Had I known how drunk you were, I would’ve made you drink a shit-ton of water and coffee and force-fed you until you were sober enough to truly make up your mind. Then I would’ve hauled you off, over my shoulder, to the chapel, and then taken you back to the room to have my way with you. And you better believe it would’ve continued the next morning, too.”

Even though the corner of her mouth didn’t move, I could tell by the way she relaxed into me that she already felt better. “Was it good? I mean…” She didn’t finish her question, but I didn’t exactly need her to in order to know what she meant.

“You didn’t hold onto your virginity for nothing, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Did it hurt? Me, I mean. God, I hope it didn’t hurt you. If it did, I’m glad I can’t remember.”

I was happy to see some of her humor return, especially in the middle of such a serious conversation. “You cried, not much, but there were tears. At one point, I stopped because I thought you were in pain. I thought you were crying because I had hurt you. But you kissed me and told me you had never felt better.” I closed my eyes and recalled exactly what she had said that night. I had replayed her words so many times I knew them by heart. This is everything I’ve ever dreamed of. I wasn’t sure anyone would ever live up to it. But you, Holden, you have; you’re everything.

“Did…did you like it?” The fever had to be the cause of her insecurity, because I’d never known her to be this way. Still, I didn’t let it stop me from telling her the absolute truth, needing her to never doubt herself again—whether it be with me or someone else.

“Hell yeah, I did. Best sex of my life.”

Her shoulders shook with her muted laughter. I could tell she thought I meant it as a joke, but I decided against arguing with her or going out of my way to convince her of it right now. I would at a later time, when she was no longer delirious with a fever.

“Tell me a story,” she begged in a sleepy whisper.

“What kind?”

“A fairy tale. But no Prince Charming. I want one about a knight.”

“In shining armor?” I teased.

“No. No castles, no royalty, no white horses or shining armor.”

“Then what kind of knight are you talking about?”

“The dark one.”

I thought to myself for a moment before asking, “Batman? You want me to tell you a fairy tale about Batman?” Instead of speaking, she simply nodded against my chest. “To give you that, it’ll take more than one day.”

“Then break it up and tell me more each day until I get better.”

The thought of being by her side until she got better made me almost want her to never get better. Except, I hated to see her sick. Just knowing she wanted me here made me want to never leave. Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes, rested my cheek against her hair, and stroked her back as I began to tell her the best and worst fairy tale ever told.

“Once upon a time, there was an eighteen-year-old with a broken heart who’d locked herself in a room in a really high building. With her, she had twenty tiny bottles of…magic potion. She believed they would take her problems away, so she twisted the top off one and poured the entire thing down her throat. But after a few minutes, she didn’t feel any different, so she opened another…and another…and another, until they were all gone. Little did she know, her very handsome—no, sexy—hero was on his way upstairs.”

“This sounds familiar,” she mumbled against my chest.

I shushed her and held her tighter. “Just listen. No interrupting…”

---

The elevator seemed to take forever, so the strong and handsome and amazing hero raced up the stairs, two at a time, on his way to the girl with the broken heart. As soon as he got there, he realized she needed him, more than she’d ever needed anyone.

She gripped the front of his shirt to keep from falling over. Her knees had gone weak, and she kept repeating, “Thank God you’re here.”

It didn’t take long, but he finally calmed her down enough to be able to escort her from the room. They frantically ran outside, hand in hand, and everywhere she looked, there were lights. Bright lights of all different colors and shapes, blinking and flashing, as if beckoning them to follow. It was the most remarkable sight either of them had ever witnessed. But they’d been warned that it wouldn’t last forever. They had limited time to uncover the secret world they sought, for as soon as the sun’s first light peeked over the horizon, it would all vanish.

They had heard tales of dancing ribbons of water and an entire city locked within stone. Of men with sticks for legs and beautiful women scantily clad in breathtaking costumes. They wanted to leave no pebble unturned, so they quickly began their race against the clock, their sprint against time.

It was an adventure that started off at Treasure Island, just in time to see the Sirens of TI pirate show, complete with lights, music, and fire that burst clear up to the sky. The two young tourists watched with wide eyes as excitement filled them. It was certainly something at least one of them would never forget.

They traveled from the pirates’ cove to Venice, Italy—or more realistically, the Venetian Hotel. She squeezed his hand as they rode up the escalator to Venice—or more accurately, the hotel’s interpretation of the city. An indoor river ran between the shops with bridges and walkways paved like an authentic Italian street. Seeing the excitement in her eyes when she noticed the traditional Venetian rowboats—or more precisely, the ones designed to travel through a narrow, shallow lagoon inside a hotel—the hero with a body of steel and heart of pure gold raced to the ticket counter and purchased two seats for the next gondola ride.

As they floated along the water, Italian music playing around them, she couldn’t take her eyes off the sky above her—more specifically, the high ceiling painted blue, complete with white fluffy clouds, and lit up to give a rather realistic illusion of the sky. He couldn’t take his eyes off her, feeling as though this was the first time he had truly seen her for her worth…

---

Bedridden fairy tale day two

Bliss practically carried them across the street. They arrived just in time to witness the volcano in front of the Mirage. A crowd had gathered, but neither one had an issue seeing the show. She stood with her back against his front, his arms around her shoulders, protectively crossed over her chest, with his cheek resting against the side of her head. Music played in time with the fiery explosions, and with each unexpected burst, she jumped and gasped, causing him to grin. He wouldn’t remember much of the show, but he would be able to recall her reactions and excitement for years to come.

They walked on tiring feet down the crowded strip, taking in the hustle and bustle only Vegas at night could offer. As if following a tour guide, they made their way to Caesars Palace and trailed the people to the shops, finally stopping to wait near the Cheesecake Factory.

“I’m going to get something to drink. Do you want anything?” the hero asked the girl, whose heart seemed as if it were on the mend. He refused her request for an adult beverage, reminding her she wasn’t of age, but she argued with him, batted her lashes, and in the end, got her way. The hero didn’t think he’d ever in his lifetime be capable of telling the beautiful woman no.

Luckily, the crowd surrounding the indoor fountain concealed the drink, preventing questions. Not that anyone cared, considering everyone’s attention became glued to the talking animatronics in front of them. Over the people talking, the sound effects, and water from the fountain, it became hard to hear the show, but they knew enough about it to adlib. The Fall of Atlantis was a show about sibling rivalry, which the young woman knew very much about, and the hero had somewhat experienced while staying with her family on numerous occasions. The couple began to create their own script, getting sideways glances when their giggles became too loud to be covered by the music.

Eventually, the two made their way outside. As though someone had lit a fire beneath their asses, they made a beeline to the Bellagio Hotel in time to watch the thrilling fountains. They stood amongst the crowd for nearly five minutes, as giddy as children on Christmas morning. And as soon as the first notes began to play to “Billie Jean” by Michael Jackson, they were enamored with the show.

Regardless of the lack of slow, romantic beats, they found themselves huddled tightly, arms around the other, needing to hold the other person as close as possible. There was something magical in the warm air that night, and it descended upon them while the water and lights danced in time with the music.

When it ended, they both turned to each other, arms still wound around the other, and stared longingly into one another’s eyes. “I wanna kiss you so bad right now, Janelle.” He worried his confession would scare her off. They’d been friends for so long and had just recently grown close, closer than ever before.

Rather than push him away or freak out, she whispered, “Then do it…”

---

Bedridden fairy tale day three

He didn’t waste a second. She told him to kiss her, so he did. And then they stood there in the middle of the sidewalk, in the center of the crowd, experiencing the taste of each other for the very first time. Holding on tight, their lips shifted from soft and tentative caresses to frantic and needy, punishing kisses.

Eventually, they had to come up for air, and when they broke apart, he said—

“What did he say?” Janelle asked, fully invested in this story that somehow led to a piece of information I couldn’t give her. I’d already lied about it, and if I changed it now, it could lead her to question everything. Plus, holding her in my bed as she recovered from the flu wasn’t the right time to tell her that I had given her the one word I’d never spoken to another before.

“He said, ‘I wish I could kiss you forever…’”

Then she said, “Let’s do it. Let’s get married and kiss each other forever and ever.”

“That’s a silly idea. And completely irrational.”

“No it’s not. It’s perfect. Think about it…” She listed all the reasons they should tie the knot. When she told him how they would end up together anyway, since that was where the friendship was headed, it didn’t make sense to the hero to wait a few years only to waste money on a celebration when none of that mattered to her—and he was a guy, so it shouldn’t have mattered to him. His points were no longer valid and he couldn’t think of one reason to argue that this union shouldn’t be.

They planned to head off to a chapel and make it official. And then the next day, they would fly home, where they’d keep it secret from the family. In the unlikely event something went awry, neither wanted to chance upsetting her parents or siblings. The only details worked out in the back of a taxi were what would take place after she finished college. There was no mention of how they would interact or what to expect in the years between the vows and her college graduation.

But neither of them cared.

In front of Elvis, they promised their lives to one another.

She vowed to always be his sidekick.

And he swore to always be her hero.