Page 162 of Vicious Temptation

“A shower.”

His eyes snap open. “Fuck. Is it that bad?”

“No offense, Braga, but it smells like a biology experiment in here.”

He belts out a laugh that’s weak and scratchy and clearly costs him some effort, but hearing it still makes me smile.

“Come on,” I say as I rise to my feet and tug on his arm. He looks up at me with the exhausted expression of a man being asked to climb a mountain.

“Remi.”

“Thiago.”

“I don’t have the energy for this.”

“That’s fine. I have enough energy for both of us.”

He grumbles, letting his head fall back against the couch. I give his arm another tug.

“Get up, you obnoxiously huge motherfucker.”

“You know, most people are nice to sick people.”

“Most sick people lock their doors.”

The corner of his mouth lifts. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, here I am, taking care of you when I should be home, still angry at you for kicking me out.”

“Way to lay on the guilt when I can’t properly defend myself.”

“What better opportunity?”

With another dramatic sigh, he finally lets me pull him to his feet. The moment he stands, though, he sways, and my smile disappears. I quickly slide an arm around his waist to steady him.

“I’m fine.”

“You almost face-planted into your coffee table.”

“I said I’m fine.”

I roll my eyes. “Congratulations. You’re officially a man with the flu.”

That earns another laugh as I guide him toward the bathroom, and the sound brings warmth to my chest that I choose not to examine too closely.

After I turn on the shower, I reach for the hem of his shirt. Our eyes meet as he lifts his arms, and I help pull it over his head. His sweatpants come next. When he tries to step out of them, he sways again. I plant a hand against his chest to steady him.

“Thiago, when was the last time you ate something?”

“I don’t know.”

I stare at him. “You don’t know?”

“Maybe ice cream…with you.”

“Fuck.” I shake my head as another wave of concern pushes aside my lingering irritation. “I’m making you eat as soon as we’re done in here.”

I pull my shirt over my head and toss it onto the counter, then work on my jeans.