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I put my hands on her shoulder and make her spin around to face me. I tilt her chin up, but she squeezes her eyes so tight, and I’m cracking up all over again. “Are you going to look at me?”
She shakes her head. “I’d rather not.”
I smirk. “Okay, what is it you needed then?”
Lennon swallows, still insisting on keeping her eyes shut. “I was going to suggest Chinese food and that I’d order it because now I’m starving and wasn’t sure how much longer you’d be, but I guess that’s irrelevant now.”
Studying her features, I notice the freckles on her nose and how adorable they are. Her long blond hair cascades down her back, and I know she’s hiding blue eyes behind her lids. Whether she throws her hair up in a messy ponytail or she styles it with lots of curls, Lennon always looks gorgeous without even trying. And when she smiles, it brightens the entire room.
“Chinese sounds great,” I tell her softly. “I’ll take the chicken and broccoli with fried rice.”
“Great.” She pinches her lips tight. “I’ll place the order.”
She turns around quickly, then rushes out, shutting the door behind her.
I blink, wondering if that just happened and if things are going to be weird now. The last thing I want is for any awkwardness between us, so I try to think of something funny to say once I’m dressed and back in the living room.
“What season was it where Chandler walked in on Rachel after she took a shower and saw her naked? The whole episode she was embarrassed about him seeing her ‘boobies’ and tried to get him back but ended up walking in on Joey naked instead,” I say with a laugh, hoping to lighten the mood.
“Can we please not talk about it? I’m already embarrassed and unable to look at you now.”
Lennon keeps her head low and avoids eye contact.
“Too soon?” I quip, then realize how red her cheeks still are. “You’re embarrassed?” I ask with amusement. “I had just gotten out of a hot shower, and cold air hit me as soon as you opened the door.” I sit on the other side of the couch. “I’m the one who should be embarrassed here.” I’m not at all, but she doesn’t need to know that.
That makes Lennon laugh, and I smile.
“Cold air isn’t good for a man’s pride, by the way. Especially naked,” I add, hoping she stops feeling weird.
“I know you’re feeding me bullshit, so I’ll feel less guilty,” Lennon accuses, finally looking up and meeting my gaze. “But thank you. I do feel awful, though. I should’ve just waited, but my stomach was growling. After Mason fed me lunch, I buried myself in a book all afternoon and haven’t eaten since then.”
“It’s fine, Lennon,” I tell her honestly. “Did you order?”
“Yep. Should be here in thirty minutes.” She grabs the remote from the coffee table and turns on the Apple TV. “I bought a few seasons of Friends so we can start from the beginning.”
We get through one and a half episodes before the doorbell rings. Pushing myself up, I stand and answer it. Memories of the night Brandon died rush through my mind, and I think about how Lennon reacted to the delivery guy. I look over my shoulder and see her eyes glued to the screen, so I’m not even sure if she remembers it.
“Thanks,” I tell the man and bring our food inside. Setting the bag on the coffee table, I go to grab some plates and forks. “You need a drink?” I call out once I’m in the kitchen.
I don’t get an answer, and moments later, I hear Lennon rushing down the hallway and then a door slamming. “What the hell?” I mutter, following the sound. Standing outside the bathroom door, I hear her dry heaving.
Tapping my knuckles on the wood, I call her name. “Lennon? Are you okay? Can I come in?”
She’s emptying her stomach, which wasn’t full to begin with, and it worries me even more. I don’t wait for a response and walk in to check on her.
“Go away.” She sounds defeated as she kneels next to the porcelain.
Rolling my eyes, I ignore her request and grab a towel. After handing it to her, I wrap my hands around her shoulders and fist her hair, so it’s out of the way.
“I think I’m done,” she says softly, sitting back, looking pale. “That hit me out of nowhere. I opened the bag of Chinese, and as soon as I smelled it, nausea hit me.”
“Hope you aren’t getting a stomach bug,” I say, my eyes narrow in worry.
“I don’t know. Maybe.” She wipes her mouth with the towel, and I hold out my hand to help her to her feet. “I did go out in public today, so my system probably went into shock.” She laughs at herself. “I think I’ll be okay, but maybe no Chinese.”
