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Right. Well, still! Is there anything I can get her? Can I make her cupcakes and bring them over?
Ross responded almost right away.
She doesn’t have much of an appetite still, but I think she’d like that.
Alix’s fingers flew.
Okay. I’m sorry, they’re going to be from a box mix. I’m not talented like she is.
She could practically see Ross grinning at her through the phone when she read his response.
It’s the thought that counts. As long as they’re not half raw. Or burnt. I know all about your culinary skills.
Alix let out a huff.
If I fudge them up, I’ll stop at a bakery on my way and buy some real cupcakes.
Her phone went silent for a few minutes. It dinged when she was scooping out ice cream into the blender.
God damn cold and flu season. I feel like my throat is scratchy. You know we shouldn’t be making mom sick right now when her immune system sucks ass. If I’m coming down with something, I’ll text you. I’m going to have to get out of here for a few days.
She’d wondered why Ross still lived at home at all if he had a butt load of money. Sometimes she forgot that the boy she grew up with was now super rich. Rich beyond anything his parents would ever even have. Rich beyond anything she was capable of adding up in her head, or probably even on paper. When she got back home, she’d almost made fun of him for still living at home, which would have been glaringly hypocritical, given that she did too. She didn’t have a billion dollars though.
Now she knew why. She knew why Ross was still there. Why he’d chosen to spend as much time as possible with his family after the last cancer scare. Probably to help Evelyn out more than anything.
Don’t go check into a hotel. Come stay here.
She stared at the words she’d just written. She wished she could steal them back, but she wasn’t tech savvy enough to figure out how to do that, then the little read message appeared at the bottom. Dots flashed across the screen. Disappeared. Flashed again. Disappeared.
Okay.
That’s all it said. Just one word. Okay. She forced herself not to read into it. Ross was busy at the hospital at that very moment with Evelyn. He didn’t have time to write her a novel. Besides, it was a friendly invitation. He’d practically lived at their house the same way she and Chance viewed the Rivers’s house as a second home.
Her phone dinged unexpectedly, when she was slurping back what was possibly the world’s worst smoothie.
Scratch the cupcakes. Mom just felt my forehead in the parking lot and told me I’m definitely warm. Staring to feel like shit too. Achy and stuff. She doesn’t want me to leave, but I don’t want to make her sick. She’s too tired to argue with me at the moment. I’m putting her in a cab and coming over. Dad’s coming home from work to be there with her in case she needs anything.
It was the longest message he’d ever sent her. Her stomach tightened. She’d seen Ross sick a bunch of times growing up. One time, he’d literally thrown up all over their kitchen table in the middle of breakfast. She’d been so grossed out she couldn’t even sit at the table for weeks after without thinking about it.
Now, as she dumped the disgusting smoothie down the drain- she was pretty sure the pineapple was indeed rancid- she smiled at the memory.
Her smile faded as she realized Ross was on his way over. They’d have to come up with a reason he was staying at their house. Her parents were gone for a few days at a show, but it might be harder to sell the idea to Chance. He was nosy at the best of times.
She rummaged around the kitchen, checking the cupboards for chicken soup and Vitamin C. She and Ross had been to the hospital so much it was amazing that neither of them had come down with anything before.
It was another half hour by the time the doorbell rang. She felt weird, walking to the door, letting Ross in. He usually just walked right in and didn’t bother to knock. When she pulled open the door, she found him leaning against the house where the garage jutted out, like he needed it to hold himself upright. He had on his usual faded jeans that hung so low on his hips they were sinful, and a black t-shirt with a band logo plastered across the front that was soft looking, loose fitting enough to be casual, but still tight enough to outline his incredibly streamlined form just right.
He had an arm thrown up against the siding and the muscles in it bulged, even from the underside. His skin was always a darker hue than hers was, but it looked a shade lighter than the normal dark bronze. He hadn’t been out in the sun much. Then again, neither had she.
