Page 126

I spit into the can. “I regret nothing. In fact I kind of feel like we need to share all our infectious diseases.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. What else ya got? Anything sexually transmitted?” Spitting. “That could be fun.” I bounced my eyebrows weakly.

“I don’t want to burst your bubble or anything, but now you look a little like a guy who got bit by a zombie and he’s just about to turn.”

“Oh WOW. Coming from patient zero that hurts.”

“Am I the asshole?”

“Yes. You one hundred percent are.”

She smiled and put a hand on my forehead, and I closed my eyes.

“No fever at least,” she said. “Hopefully you got a milder case.”

She rubbed her thumb tenderly on my cheek, and there was a very real part of me that would have gotten sick all over again for that one touch alone.

I coughed into the trash can and ruined the moment.

“I’m sorry you have to see this,” I said, pitifully.

“There is nothing I haven’t seen, I promise you. I’m just glad you’re where I can take care of you.”

I rested my head on my arm on the rim of the can. She was gazing at me with something I could have sworn was affection. Or I could be delirious. It was probably delirium.

“I think I’ve officially barfed out my entire skeleton,” I said. “Even my mouth is sweating.”

“Please don’t make me laugh. It hurts,” she said.

“God, we’re a mess. Next time we barf at my place, okay?” I said. “We can get DoorDash there.”

“What do you want from DoorDash?” she asked.

“That really good ice from Sonic.”

“Yeeesss,” she breathed.

“Cold Stone. And Yogurt Lab.”

“I want ribs,” she said. “Like, really tender ribs covered in barbecue sauce. And a baked potato with all the stuff on it. And bread. That brown bread from the Cheesecake Factory.”

“I want Punch Pizza. I’ll give you all the crusts.”

“I want to order Thai food,” she said. “And get so much of it the car will think it’s a person in the front seat and the seat belt reminder will keep going off.”

“If I live, I will take you anywhere you want to go.”

She glanced at me. “What if you die? Can I have your dog?”

“Only if you promise to never change his name,” I rasped.

She put a hand over her heart. “I will carry on all your petty vendettas.”

I chuckled dryly and spit in the can again.

She put her chin on her knees. “Do you think this counts as our fourth date?” she asked.