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“You going to let me in or is there a secret password that I’m supposed to know?”
Her eyes flew to Ross’s face and she swayed back, but caught herself and tried to feign friendly indifference, whatever that actually looked like. She wouldn’t know. She’d never been indifferent to Ross Rivers in her life.
His cobalt eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot, his dark hair mussed all over. His skin was paler than normal, but his cheeks were flushed, like he’d sat out in the heat for hours and hours without reprieve. A sheen of sweat beaded his forehead. There were dark smudges under his eyes and his pillow soft pink lips- lips that really had no right to belong on a guy- were flattened into a thin, lifeless line. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d heard him make a joke or laugh or even smile.
“Hopefully you feel better than you look because you look like shit.”
Ross grunted, but he didn’t smirk and give her grief with some witty comeback like he would have in the past.
“Just tired,” he admitted, and god, he sounded like it. He glanced behind her, down the hall. “You sure this is okay? Chance here?”
“No. I have no idea where he is. Off with one of the many members of his harem.”
Ross’s lips curled at the corners. “I wouldn’t know anything about that.” He looked even sadder when he said it. Exhausted. He didn’t have time to catch up with Chance at the moment. He’d been blowing him off most of the time, something that pissed Chance off, but he found ways to cope all on his own.
Alix’s heart did the usual ache, swell, beat at her ribs furiously dance whenever she was around Ross. Over the summer, he really had become what she’d consider a friend. Her friend. She’d call herself his too. That gap they’d never been able to surmount growing up was bridged by disease, heartbreak and necessity.
Alix closed the door behind Ross and leaned against it for support. They were alone. Together. Him. Her. He smelled good, even if he was tired, maybe even sick. He might look like shit, but he was still the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen.
She gave her head a shake. “Do you want a bath? A shower? I can make sure the guest bedroom is made up. The sheets on there are probably a year old. I can’t remember someone ever coming to stay over. I’ll find fresh ones.”
“Do I stink?” Ross lifted his arm and literally sniffed at himself.
“No! Why would you say that?”
“I just got here and the first thing you’re trying to do is hustle me into the shower. That must be code for me stinking like roadkill in the sun.”
“That’s a disgusting analogy. Please don’t talk about roadkill. I hate that.”
“I forgot you’re sensitive.” Ross lowers his arm.
“I just thought it might feel nice. I like a long relaxing bath once in a while.”
“Do you have unicorn bath bombs that make the water all glittery and marshmallow scented and a plate of cheese and crackers too?”
“I’m not sure what kind of baths you’re taking, but I may want in on this,” she deadpanned.
Total. Silence. Total, static, radio silence filled up the house. Ross stared at her. She stared at him because she was too embarrassed to look away.
“I- I didn’t mean- not like- not like that,” she clarified. “Are you sure you’re coming down with something? Maybe you’re just tired. You don’t look like you’ve been sleeping well.”
Maybe they weren’t exactly good friends, because she’d been so busy worrying about Evelyn like everyone else had, that she’d pretty much forgotten to ask about him at all. Of course, he wasn’t okay. She didn’t even bother with that. Of course, nothing was fine, not when your mom might be dying. Not when she was suffering from the side effects of chemo and radiation. Not when you were helpless to do anything about it.
Ross shrugged. He ran a hand through his hair like he often did and ended by scrubbing it over his face. The stubble on his jawline made a hissing sound that echoed the sigh that ripped from the bottom of his chest. Her heart did that simmer, stutter step that she was used to where Ross was concerned.
“Nope. You’re right. I haven’t. I can’t remember the last time I got anything more than a nap here and there. I don’t want to- I- I was just… mom didn’t sleep well either. She was always up. We’d watch movies. Sometimes just sit there together in silence. Sometimes we’d talk. Sometimes I’d be able to get her to eat something or have a cup of tea. I hate tea. I’d drown the whole thing though, just so she’d have a sip right along with me.”
