“It’s not me, asshole. Come to my parents, Mikayla isn’t well, she’s shaking, throwing up, white as a ghost,” Caine says.
“I’m on my way!” Kyle says, his tone all business.
“I meant for you to just get medical advice,” I whisper, surprised by Caine’s alarm.
But I don’t have the strength to argue. I close my eyes again as Caine places the ginger ale against my lips. I take a few more sips.
I must drift off because I’m jarred awake by the sound of the door opening.
Cool hands touch my face, and I know they aren’t Caine’s. They’re not rough, not familiar.
“Hi Mikayla,” Kyle says quietly. “Can you open your eyes for me?” he asks. His voice is soft and kind.
I open my eyes.
“Can I ask you a few questions?”
“Yes,” I whisper.
My entire body aches, and I shiver. I notice a blanket is draped over me and cuddle into its softness.
“When did you start to feel unwell?” he asks.
“I’m not sure,” I answer honestly, my voice gruff and scratchy.
“Can you elaborate?” he asks.
I blush, my eyes darting to Caine, who stands worriedly against the wall. My eyes move about the room. I must be in a den or study or something. The bin next to me is clean. And even though I feel like absolute shit, my heart swells a little as my eyesreturn to the handsome man brooding in the corner.
“This morning, maybe last night? I just feel sore.”
“I see, you felt sore?” Kyle asks.
Looking at him now, I see the bemusement on his face.
“Don’t,” Caine warns. “Not the time.”
“Sorry,” Kyle says quickly. “How about any other symptoms?”
“I wasn’t hungry at all today. I got a little dizzy on the walk over here but thought that was because I didn’t eat,” I reply.
I’m surprised by the flash of anger I see in Kyle’s eyes as he turns his face to Caine.
“You didn’t even buy her breakfast or lunch?” he barks out.
I shut my eyes from the loud gruffness of his voice.
“Shh,” I whisper. “Offered, wasn’t hungry,” I whisper in his defense, but it’s weak and without conviction.
Kyle opens a bag and waves what I assume is a thermometer over my head. It beeps, and his already deep frown somehow grows even more intense.
“How high?” Caine asks.
“One-o-three,” Kyle says. “I need you to get her to the clinic,” Kyle says. “I’m guessing viral infection, but I’ll take some swabs when we get there. My clinic has two rooms for acute care. The nearest hospital is over forty-five minutes away. I have all I need to treat you once we get to the clinic, okay?” Kyle places a cool hand onmy cheek. “Let’s get the fever down and figure out what bug you’ve got,” he adds, closing up his bag.
I move to sit up, but Caine is right there to stop me.
“I got you,” he says, lifting me up.
