12
Megan awoke on Monday with her head pounding like she’d fallen asleep on a jack hammer. Her throat screamed in agony with every breath. Moaning, she crawled out of bed and grabbed her robe. This was not a good start to her day.
Maybe if she got going, she’d feel better. She didn’t want to call in sick. Leon would pitch a fit. And who knew what would go on over there without her. She could only imagine.
She showered. The hot water did nothing for her chills. By the time she’d toweled off, she knew she couldn’t go into work. Hot and cold flashes assaulted her as she picked up the phone.
Leon didn’t sound too thrilled, but she didn’t care anymore. She hung up and crawled back into bed, grateful for the warmth of the blankets. With the covers up to her chin, she slipped into blessed unconsciousness.
She awoke several times, her blistering headache making the room spin. Once, she slipped from bed to get a glass of water, only to find herself waking up on the kitchen floor, her cheek pressed to the cool tile. She must have managed to get herself back into bed, because the next time she awoke she was kicking off the comforter, and her pillow was a sweaty mess beneath her head.
Strange dreams filled her mind, one where her cell phone kept ringing, even after she answered it. No matter how many times she touched the screen, it wouldn’t shut up. Finally, in desperation, she threw it on the floor and stomped on it. The tiny broken pieces still vibrated and continued to chime incessantly.
The next time she woke, the clock display read three fifteen in the afternoon, and her chest was on fire. She coughed, a deep hacking sound, which continued until she passed out again.
She had another annoying dream, only this time her door buzzer wouldn’t stop. She tried to press the button on the wall, but kept missing. Finally she was successful, and the buzzing ended, replaced by loud knocking. The doorknob wouldn’t turn for her. She yelled for whoever it was to go away, but the knocking continued.
Then her dream changed and Adam held her in his strong arms. He smelled clean and musky, and she buried her head in his chest.
“You’re burning up.” He stared down at her, concern showing in his beautiful eyes.
She reached up and touched his face. Stubble scratched at her palm, and his cool skin sent sparks through her fingertips. “You’re sexy,” she mumbled.
“We need to get you to a doctor.”
She shook her head, which was a bad idea. The pressure cooker behind her eyes threatened to blow. “No doctor.”
Then her dream changed again, and she found herself lying on her bed, a cool cloth on her forehead. Adam held a glass of water to her lips. “Here, take a sip.”
The cold water washed over her blistering throat, and she moaned.
He kissed her forehead, then jerked back. “Megan, you’re really sick. You need to see a doctor.” He frowned.
She grew annoyed. “Stop talking about doctors. You’re my dream, and you’ll do what I want.”
He raised an eyebrow, a slight smile tugging at his lips. “And what’s that?”
She pulled the covers up and tucked them under her arms. “Be nice. The real Adam’s a jerk.”
He must not have liked that answer, because his frown came back.
Her vision blurred, and she blinked to try to see him more clearly. “But he’s a good kisser.”
She yawned, amazed that she could feel sleepy in a dream. She closed her eyes, and the world went dark. A few more times she dreamed of Adam. Once they were at a beautiful ball dressed in formal clothing. He held her close, her head against his chest. It was nice. She told him how good he smelled, and he chuckled. They talked for a while, but that part of the dream was fuzzy.
Then she fell into a long, dreamless unconsciousness. When the fog lifted, she opened her eyes and peered at the clock. Eleven-thirty. Light filtered through her curtains, so she knew it must be the next day. She’d missed work again. Oh, well. Leon would simply have to deal with it. Adam was fine hosting the show by himself anyway.
She had started to slip out of bed when she noticed a pair of cowboy boots on her floor. Fear crept up her spine. She didn’t own cowboy boots. She turned and held in a scream. Adam lay asleep, sprawled out on a kitchen chair beside her bed, his head at an unnatural angle. He wore a white T-shirt and jeans.
She grabbed her blanket, covering up her filmy gown. “Adam!”
He awoke with a start, glancing wildly around the room until his gaze settled on her. “Oh. You’re awake.”
“What are you doing here?” she screeched.
He held up his hands. “Whoa, hey, you let me in.”
“I did no such thing! Get out!” Yelling probably wasn’t the best idea, because it made her cough, which sounded horrible even to her ears.
“Settle down.” He stood and backed toward the door. “You’re sick.”
She stared at him, realization dawning. “That was you knocking on the door.”
“Yes. You wouldn’t answer your phone. I got worried.”
“So you broke into my apartment?”
Shaking his head, he protested. “No. Like I said, you let me in. I mean, not right away. It did take you a while to get to the door, but you finally opened it. And I’m glad you did. You were not well.”
She stared up at him, trying to figure him out. Was her dream real? Was he nursing her? She glanced at the nightstand. A fresh glass of ice water sat on a coaster. A wet cloth lay beside it.
Heat crept up her neck. “How long have you been here?”
He looked at his watch. “A few hours. I came back after the show this morning.”
“Came back? You were here before?”
A blush touched his cheeks. “I’ve been here since yesterday.”
“You spent the night here?” She clutched the covers tighter.
“You wouldn’t let me take you to a doctor. And you had a high fever. I needed to give you some ibuprofen, and watch you, to make sure you didn’t have a seizure or something. And if you weren’t better today, I was taking you in, no matter what you said.”
Images from her dreams flashed in her mind, and she could no longer look him in the eye. “Um…I must have been out of it.”
He rocked back on his heels. “Yeah.”
A horrible feeling settled over her. She didn’t want to ask, but needed to know. “What did I say?”
His lip twitched. “Plenty.”
“Well, I wasn’t myself. I had a fever. You can’t take any of that seriously.”
He folded his arms across his broad chest. “Uh, huh.”
“I mean, I was delusional.”
He nodded, a grin forming, those blasted dimples showing. “Oh, and your sister called.”
“You answered my phone?”
He shrugged. “Wendy says, ‘Get better soon.’”
Heat singed her face. Great. Wendy would probably jump to the wrong conclusions. She raked her hand through her hair, and it stuck in a tangle, reminding her that she probably resembled the bride of Frankenstein. Heaven only knew what she smelled like. “I need to shower.”
“Oh, yes. Well, uh,” he stammered. “I’ll go in the other room.” He backed up a step. “Are you hungry? Do you want me to make you some eggs or something?”
She couldn’t hide a smile. He was cute when he was uncomfortable. “Sure.”
She took an extra-long time in the shower, scrubbing off the buildup of sweat from her fevered state. She even shaved her legs, although she wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t like she was planning on wearing a dress. But the thought of Adam carrying her, her orangutan-legs sticking out from her nightgown, gave her the motivation.
Just getting clean made her feel so much better, although she was very weak. She put on a pair of sweats and a loose-fitting top. As she dressed, thoughts of Adam bombarded her. Why did it make her feel safe, knowing that he was there taking care of her? She didn’t need anyone doting on her, she was a grown woman. But she couldn’t help but smile as she remembered the way he’d kissed her on the forehead.
When she left the bathroom, the smell from the kitchen made her mouth water. Adam stood at the stove, a frying pan in one hand, a spatula in the other. “Feel better?”
“Yes. Much.” She sat at the table, where a glass of milk awaited her.
He scooped the eggs onto a plate and added a piece of toast, jam spread over the top. “I hope your stomach’s better. You haven’t eaten anything since I got here.”
She picked up the glass and swallowed the cold liquid. “Mmm, nice.” He handed her a fork, and she scooped up her first fluffy bite. “Heaven.”
A sultry grin crossed his face. He flipped a chair around and sat straddling it, his arms across the back. “You don’t know how happy I am to see you up and around, and not talking nonsense.” His boots were back on.
She grimaced, and he chuckled silently. As she ate, she stole a few glances at him. She really did appreciate him coming over, helping her like he had. It wasn’t something anyone else had ever done for her. Growing up, she’d fended for herself, in sickness and in health.
The food was gone in a matter of minutes, and her energy drained. He took her plate. “Go lie down. You need to rest. I’ll take care of the dishes.”
She protested, but he put a finger to her lips. “Please.”
How could she argue with that? She nodded and pushed herself up. The room swayed, and Adam rushed to her side, helping her down the hall. When she slid under the covers, she gasped. “You changed my sheets?”
“Hush. You need a nap.” He gently guided her shoulders back until she lay on the cool pillows.
Her eyelids drooped, and she found it hard to speak. “Mmkay.” She snuggled down into the bed, relishing the feel of the clean sheets on her skin. Adam was amazing. She might be in love. Wait. Did she say that out loud?
The last thing she heard was Adam’s chuckle as she drifted off to sleep.