Page 61 of Elf-ish

Jude takes a seat on the closed toilet lid until I’m sweaty and spent.

“I need to get out,” I whisper.

“I’ve got you.” He holds up an outstretched towel, keeping his head turned as I stand, then he blindly wraps it around me. Covered by only the towel, he picks me up again and carries me back to my bed. He slips a clean T-shirt over my head while I wiggle out of the damp terrycloth. I collapse back into fresh sheets.

When did he do this?

“You rest. I’ll make you some soup.”

“Do you even know how to make soup?” I tease, turning away from him and curling into myself.

“I can read a label.”

I scoff, but smile, hugging the covers to my chest. Before Jude leaves my room, he takes the broad-toothed comb I use for my curls and gently combs through the fresh tangle of them.

I drift back to sleep, deciding this is a really nice dream.

Jude Ashford might be a decent guy after all.

chapter 19

[Jude]

Angelica is sick, and I am fucking scared. I’ve never taken care of anyone in my life, except myself, so I do what I always do when I don’t know what to do.

“Hi, Jude.”

“Julia.” I breathe a sigh of relief after hearing my younger sister’s voice. The quiet redhead who turned into a spunky wife and mother of three is my answer for anything I don’t know.

“How are you in trouble now?” she laughs.

“Why would you think I’m in trouble?” I grouse.

“Because it’s mid-morning on a Friday and you’d never call me this early without it meaning trouble,” she teases.

“I’m not in trouble.” Not exactly. “But I am with a sick friend, and I’ve tried everything I know to help her. Warm bath. Soup. Rest.”

Silence fills the phone.

“Julia?”

“I’m sorry. I’m just trying to unpack that sentence. Friend. Sick. You help. Her.” Julia’s voice shifts. “How is Sabrina?”

My sister has met my previous on-again, off-again friend-with-benefits, and she does not approve, although she’d never outright say that. Her tone when referencing Sabrina implies her opinion, although Julia is the least opinionated person I’ve ever known.

“It’s not Sabrina.” I scrub my hand down my face as I stand in Angelica’s living room, looking into the gloomy courtyard of her apartment complex. I should have taken her to my place, but I was afraid to move her. She’s hardly moved other than flipping from one side of the bed to the other and sitting up for only a few sips of soup and half a piece of toast.

“Oh.” Pause. “Oh.”

“Don’t oh me right now,” I snap. “I need to know what to do.”

Silence fills the phone again, but I can practically hear the smile in my sister’s voice when she eventually says, “This is new.”

“Yes. It’s new.”

“No, I mean, that tremor in your voice. You must really care about this one.”

“Her name is Angelica.”