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“What? Just say it.” I stood, then followed his gaze and resigned myself. “The cat.” I sighed. “Someone was at the door, and she slithered away when I was talking to them, and it’s so dark, I can’t seem to find her, and everyone thinks I’m available all the time for their own personal use and?—”
Fuck.“Arghhhhhhhhhhh!” I screamed into the night, large drops falling on my tipped face, my cheeks so hot withanger and embarrassment that the cool water was a nice respite.
“Okay,” he said, taking a few steps, then putting his hand in mine. He squeezed once and tugged me towards him. “Let’s look for her.”
With our hands clasped, he walked me around the side of the house and towards the back of the lot. The wind of the previous days had done a number on the outdoors, branches and leaves and a few flowers littering the neatly cut grass and covering the pool. I was able to stack the outdoor furniture cushions and put them in the garage to avoid them getting lost, but that was the extent of what I’d done, despite my parents calling me multiple times to remind me.
Maybe I was rebelling against them too. They would never know anyway.
One of the lanterns was tilted to its side, the glass cracked in a million different directions. The first casualty.
Francisco stilled, his arm pulling me to his side, closer to his warm body. Despite being drenched, he was burning up, and upon closer inspection, his eyes seemed sunken and irritated. I tilted my head and looked closer, but I couldn’t quite figure anything out in the dark.
Qué tarada, Lucía.I had been a real bitch to him, using him as my punching bag, and he looked like shit.
“Are you feeling okay?” I asked as he inspected the large yard, turning his body in every direction, squinting into the dark corners.
He grunted in response, his hand tightening in my grip. Imoved closer and lifted my free hand, going immediately to the back of his neck and squeezing gently there. It was hot to the touch, despite the water and the relatively low temperature that the storm had brought with it.
“You’re sick,” I said with a gasp, grabbing him by the arm and tugging him into the house.
“No,” he rasped and closed his eyes, an expression of pain on his face. “No, I’m fine.”
“Nuh-uh, we’re going inside.”
“The cat,” he rasped, stopping in the middle of the yard and planting his feet there.
“The cat will be fine,” I replied, looking one last time and finding her curled up under the couch, like a storm wasn’t raging around her. “See?” I pointed, his gaze following my fingers and his shoulders relaxing immediately. “I’ll come get her later. You need to be in bed.”
“I’m fine,” he said and then winced immediately.
“Nuh-uh. Inside.”
We walked in through the back door and stopped in the laundry room to leave our wet clothes. The towels from previous nights were still there, draped on the mudroom hooks, waiting to be folded. I grabbed one and turned my body, offering it to him. He moved in slow motion, shivers running through his body and his hands shaking with the effort.
“Clothes off,” I said, a little bit bossier than I would have liked, especially after what happened two nights ago. “Wrap yourself up in a towel, and I’ll see you by the stairs.”
21
FRANCISCO
Jesus,she was bossy. I shouldn’t have been thinking about that in such a state, but it was inevitable. She was wonderful and even better than I remembered.
“Okay,” she drawled softly, walking to me slowly and surely, almost delicately. Not like I was a grown man in my early thirties with a cold. Well, maybe the flu. “Let’s go upstairs.”
I focused on Lucía. Her hair was down, drenched from standing for however long under the rain, looking for that damned cat. The lights in the house were off, the darkness creeping in at a snail’s pace. We hadn’t had a break in the rain yet, ever since two nights ago. I had left her house almost with my tail between my legs after her small panic, but I was resolved to go back and talk about it. But the next day, I woke up and everything hurt, even my hair. I didn’thave the energy to make the short walk to her, instead staying in bed all day, shivering inside the covers.
“What hurts?” She turned swiftly, her palm going to my forehead and pushing my hair back. Her blue eyes were darker than normal, full of concern. She transformed instantly into my doctor, and I was now her patient and not her… Who even knew.
“Everything,” I said, trying to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. I was wrapped in a towel like a little kid, the fabric draped over my shoulders and tucked tightly against my chest, both my hands holding it there. My legs were still dripping water, and the drops that were tracing down my skin were making me shiver. Yesterday had been bad, but today was worse. “I think I have a fever.” My lids closed at the strain of just standing there.
“Yeah, no shit, Sherlock.” She was smiling, but there was concern in her features. She stood behind me and placed her hands on my shoulders, pushing me slightly in the direction of the stairs, taking slow steps towards what I assumed was a bedroom. Once we made it to the top, she turned my body and led me to an open door towards the front of the house.
It was darker up here. The blinds in the room were rolled down, but the windows were open, likely to counteract the stuffiness of the hot summer days and the lack of power.
“Bed,” she said, walking towards a door across from where we were standing. Everything in here screamed Lucía. It was so calm, the light-colored walls soothing. Feminine yet grown-up,despite it being what I assumed was her childhood bedroom. She walked into the bathroom and opened a few cabinet doors, then closed them swiftly and turned on the tap for a few seconds. She came back with a wet washcloth and a glass of water, a bottle of something under her arm.“Dale.”C’mon.
Bossy.
