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But I wake up to something cold draped over my forehead and soft, delicate fingers brushing hair away from my face, and someone pulling the blanket over my shoulder. My head isn’t playing jackhammer anymore, and the fog around my brain has subsided slightly.

Slowly, I blink my eyes open. It’s not mom. I know that much, even in my current state, which is still far from well.

The first thing I see is golden fur.

"Dick?" I croak and promptly earn several chin-licks. But even through my delirious brain, I realize he's not the one who put a new cooling pad on my forehead.

"Sorry," a whisper comes from behind him. "I didn't want to wake you."

"Brooke?" Right. Everything is slowly coming back to me. Fighting my way down the stairs. Her trying to make me drink a shake that tasted chewed and thrown up once already. The worried crease between her eyebrows and my growing inability to not let it make me emotional.

"You're still here?” My eyes are only glassy because of the fever. I swear. “What time is it even?"

"I couldn't exactly leave you alone in your miserable condition and have your death on my conscience.” I wince. Exactly what a guy wants to hear from the girl he’s crushing on. Softer, she adds, “I was worried."

"Well, many have. Left me alone, I mean." I let out an exhausted sigh. Everything is heavy and I don't know whether I feel hot or cold.

"I won't.” My heart flutters. Because of Brooke? Or is it time to go to the hospital? “But since I've got you awake now, open your mouth for me?"

"Are you going to make me drink that disgusting concoction from my blender?" I ask through my teeth, not opening my mouth.

"Are you going to be a whiny bitch about it?" I can hear in her voice that she's rolling her eyes. "No. It’s time for more medicine to get your fever down."

Which isn’t much better in the taste department, but when she puts the plastic cap to my lips, I open up for her. And promptly regret it. My body is growing heavier. Damn. Did she mix it with Valium?

"Fair warning, Kieran. The next time you wake up, I'm going to make you eat and drink something."

"The horror," I croak out and blindly pat my hand over the blanket until I find her warm thigh and keep it there.

She runs her fingertips through my hair again, so gently I barely feel them.

But I do.

And it's all I can think about as I let her touch lull me to sleep.

The next time I wake up, I’m a little better. Still completely sore, as if I lost a fight against a car spectacularly, but my mind is clearer.

This time, I'm alone in my bed.

Wait.

I glance around the room. This isn't even my bed. It's my guest room downstairs.

A yawn fights its way to the surface. Right. Going up the stairs to my bedroom wouldn't have been the best idea, I guess. Only now, in addition to every single limb of my body, my stomach is starting to hurt. And growl.

Maybe making me eat wasn't much of a threat from Brooke after all.

Swallowing a groan, I get up, pull at my sweat-soaked shirt and grimace. Ugh, I feel disgusting.

That's when I notice a stack of jogging pants, a sweatshirt, underwear, and a sleep shirt on a chair in the corner.

That woman. She really thinks of everything. How can she be a few years younger than me, yet so much more mature? Especially considering Evan is her brother.

Once I’m wearing the fresh clothes, I trudge my way into the living room.

Dick notices me first, then Rose, and both of them dart to me, probably to make sure I didn’t turn into a zombie when they weren’t paying attention. Once Dick realizes I’m very much alive, he scurries around my legs, tail wagging, and even gives me one of his rare barks. Rose seems a lot less interested in my health. She probably wouldn’t mind if I died, as long as there is a snack in it for her.

"Oh, you're up." My head turns to Brooke, who's sitting on my couch with a laptop on her legs, her feet propped on my coffee table.