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“I don’t want you to leave,” he says with a scowl.
My heart gives a happy leap. “Are you sure?” I can’t help but ask. “Because I’m sort of aware that I barged my way in here, and that maybe your mortal enemy isn’t exactly the person you want by your side when you’re at your worst.”
His lips twitch. “At my worst, huh?”
“Well, the shower was an improvement,” I say with a smile, gesturing with the base of my wineglass in his direction. “When I got here this morning, though—”
“And yet you stayed.”
“Yeah, well.” I shrug and take a sip of my wine. “We are dating, after all.”
Andrew goes perfectly still. “What?”
I wince. “Okay, so at what point did you become dead to the world? Did you miss the fact that—”
“The paparazzo sold his tawdry photo of us? Unfortunately, no. Got the message loud and clear.”
I reach across and pat his hand. “Poor thing. Is that what made you sick?”
He lets out a startled laugh. “No. Although, speaking of getting sick, I’m feeling like I should prep you for getting sick.”
I wave this away. “I washed my hands after handling your cootie-infested sheets and door handles.”
“I wasn’t referring to your exposure today.”
I frown. “But what—Oh. Ohhhh. The kiss.”
He nods once. “I wasn’t feeling myself that morning, but I chalked it up to not sleeping well. Had I known that within a few hours I’d come down with a fever—”
“You wouldn’t have kissed me?” I finish for him.
He blows out a breath. “Hell, I don’t know. It’s not like I planned it. Whether or not I was coming down with the flu was the last thing on my mind.”
“What was on your mind?”
“Great question,” he mutters. “I apologize for it. I’m sure the last thing you want is for all your party people to think you’re shacking up with a stodgy attorney.”
My heart sinks a little. His calm dismissal of the kiss as a mistake isn’t really what I was hoping for.
But then I remember what he whispered when he was at his absolute worst: Need you.
Hell yes, he does need me. He just hasn’t accepted it all the way yet.
“It’s no big deal,” I say. “Besides, I’m sure the consequences are worse for you than they are for me.”
His gaze sharpens. “Meaning?”
I shrug and take a sip of wine. “I’m not one of your people, any more than you’re one of mine. I mean, I’ve never even seen a pocket protector.”
He doesn’t dignify my lame comeback with a response. “Did you ever learn if your boy Brody’s actually engaged?”
“Not my boy,” I say, lifting my glass. “But yeah, rumor has it he knocked up some midwestern tourist who was in town a couple of months ago. She’s Catholic, her dad’s pissed and owns a gun, and Brody’s telling people he put a ring on it until he can talk her into an abortion.”
Andrew swears under his breath. “Yeah,” I say quietly. “I suppose I should thank you for saving me from hooking up with him.”
“I confess, my motives were a bit more selfish than that.”
My gaze snaps to his. “Meaning…?”
