Page 115 of Love Overdose: St. Louis

He touched the backs of his fingers to my forehead, then my cheek.

“No fever.”

“It isn’t a fever.”

“I wanted to make sure.”

My arms tightened across my chest as his eyes moved over me, catching everything I wanted to hide.

“I need a shower.”

“Okay.”

“And the sheets need to be changed.”

“I’ll take care of them.”

“Thanks.”

He walked past me and turned on the shower. Water struck the tile while he adjusted the temperature, testing it with his hand until the spray ran cool.

Then he faced me and reached for the hem of my nightgown.

I stepped back. “I can do it.”

His hands lowered. The flash of hurt across his face made me regret the sharpness immediately.

“I’m sorry.” I covered my eyes. “I’m embarrassed.”

“Why?”

I dropped my hands. “Look at the bed. Look at you.”

He glanced down at his wet shirt as though he had forgotten it was there.

“You were asleep against me.”

“And I sweated through both of our clothes. That doesn’t bother you?”

“No.”

“It bothers me.”

He nodded once and waited for me to go on.

“My body keeps doing things without asking me,” I said. “One minute I’m fine. The next, I feel like someone lit a match beneath my skin. I haven’t slept through the night in weeks. My period came eighteen days late last month, stayed for nine days, and now I don’t know when the next one is coming.”

Elijah listened without interrupting.

“I keep thinking I can manage it. Drink more water. Sleep with the fan on. Carry an extra shirt to the studio.” I looked toward the bed again. “Clearly, that isn’t working.”

“Have you spoken to your doctor?”

“Not yet.”

His expression changed, but he didn’t question me as though I had ignored something dangerous.

“I keep putting it off. Malik had appointments. The studio was busy before Christmas. Then Christmas came.” I released a tired breath. “I’m making an appointment with my OB-GYN on Monday. I can’t keep raw dogging life like this.”