AllFreeNovel
Share Us
That’s when I crack my eyes open. I wish I hadn’t.
He looks concerned, but not in the murderous way he usually does. No, this is like when he found out about my self-harm. He’ssadfor me. I swallow the sharp words I’m thinking of, because I don’t even have the strength to argue with him.
When he gathers me into his arms, I don’t resist. Alexander picks me up and carries me to the living room. He sits me down in the huge armchair—was it always this fluffy and comfortable?—and crouches down at my side.
“What are you feeling?” he asks, running his finger over my knuckles. “You obviously have a fever, but what else?”
My mouth is dry. “My whole body hurts.” My voice is a sigh. “I’m tired. I puked. I think I might have a headache too. A little one.”
His eyes skim over my body, lost in thought. “You probably have a cold.”
No shit, Sherlock.
He pulls his phone out of the pocket of his slacks. He dials a number, then he’s talking into the handset. “Yeah, can you get that nerdy kid in 12B to take my exam for me today?” There’s a pause. “Alize is sick, so I’m staying to take care of her. I think she might need help with her exam as well. Can you fix that?” Another pause. “Yes, I’ll tell you if I think she needs a doctor, dumbass.” He ends the call.
I’ve got his attention again.
“You really look like shit today,” Alexander says.
I slap him across the face, but it must be a tickle cause he grins. “But you’remylittle shit, so it’s fine.” I hate that my heart-rate is picking up because of his smile. “I’m going to take your temperature, and then make you something warm.” He stands. I crane my head to look up at him. “Don’t move.”
Not like I really could, even if I wanted to.
The armchair is so soft it’s like I’m sinking deep into a cloud. Alexander pushes a button andit reclines.He leaves for a few moments and comes back to cover me in a thick blanket, then presses a kiss to my forehead.
I vaguely remember him shoving a thermometer into my mouth, but it’s mostly a blur. It’s when he returns with a small folding table and a piping hot bowl of soup that I realize I must have fallen asleep. Breathing through my nose is impossible now, so I’m breathing through my mouth like a heathen.
Alexander helps me into a sitting position then perches himself on the armrest of the chair, bringing the tray and soup closer. I reach out to take the spoon, but he smacks my hand away.
“No,” he says. “It works better when someone feeds it to you.”
I scoff. “What? That makes no sense,” I croak.
He shrugs, picking up the soup. “I don’t make the rules. Now open up.”
I side-eye him, but do as he says, partly because the soup smells so good. I can barely smell anything, but the aroma of it is so strong that my shriveled stomach comes alive. I slurp down the spoonful he offers me.
He feeds me a few more in silence. Each one is better than the last.
“What kind of soup is this?”
He’s beaming. He can probably tell how much I like it. “It’s chicken,” he says.
“Yeah, but what else?” I point a finger at the bowl. “It doesn’t look likejustchicken.” It’s a thick, hearty-looking soup with vegetables. “What else is in it?”
He feigns zipping his lips. “I can’t tell you, it’s a family recipe.”
“You’re my fiancé. Isn’t that family enough?”
He’s stunned into a brief silence, but in typical Alexander fashion, he recovers quickly.
“It’s areallysecret recipe,” he says. “I’ll tell you after our wedding. I have to make sure you’re not just playing me to get the recipe.”
He grins, satisfied with his joke.
My stomach twists. I should protest, but can’t force myself to. Instead, I turn my attention back to the bowl of delicious soup, ignoring the knot forming in my chest.
A small chuckle leaves him.
