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“Tomas,” I say, standing up, and he blinks back to reality, his breathing a little more labored. “The thermometer?”
“Yeah, I just—you should go.”
“Um. No. I’m not leaving you if you’re sick.”
I stride past him and move toward the hallway which I’m sure leads to his room. Tomas is following behind me, as are the dogs—one has a shoe in his mouth, another has a wooden spoon, but neither of us stops to wrench the objects from their jowls.
“Listen, Damon, I’m not—you know, I’m not well.”
“Then let me take care of you,” I say, flipping on a switch in a room and grinning internally when I realize I found the master bedroom.
“I don’t need—I can call my mom if I’m sick.”
“But I’m right here. Dr. Damon at your service,” I retort and then saunter into the bathroom, opening and closing cabinets until I find the wretched thermometer, with no help from Tomas, who is shuffling on his feet in the doorway like a guilty child.
When I turn and bring the thermometer to his mouth, my heart is thundering in my chest.
“Open,” I say, my voice a little too husky for the situation at hand.
Tomas wets his lips and does as I say. I slip that bit of metal under his tongue. Fuck, but he has a sexy mouth. It’s not something I should be thinking about when he’s not feeling well, but I’m a horny gay man. I can’t help it.
He stares at me and I stare back. The air seems to thicken, and I swear my heart is beating a mile a minute. Until the damn thermometer beeps loudly, and I pull it out, looking at a perfectly normal body temp.
“You’re fine.”
“I know,” he says, clearing his throat and then moving to get Nibblet out of the trashcan. “I just don’t feel right. I think we should cancel our plans tonight.”
“Okay, that’s fine. We can totally do that.”
And yet, I don’t move. There’s something niggling at me. Something isoff.
“What did you do, Tomas?” I finally ask and his skin turns the color of a beet. “You need to confess because I cannot stand this…whatever this is. It’s hurting my feelings.”
His skin is now flaming, and he’s rubbing at his cheeks as if he can get rid of the color.
“I—” He peeks over at me, and I feel my heart melt. He looks like a confused puppy, and I want to do nothing but comfort him.
“Come here,” I say and hold open my arms.
He stares at them and then shakes his head, but still steps into my embrace. And as soon as my arms wrap around him, and he turns his face into my neck, I realize that I’ve made a huge mistake. He feels far too good in my arms—smells really damn nice too.
If my dick perks up and scares him, I will consider putting it in a cage for being a bad boy.
“Whatever happened, it’s fine. Here…come here,” I say softly and squeeze him tightly before letting him go. His cheeks are still stained as I grab on to his hand and lead him out of his house and toward mine. The three dogs trot along with us, each with a souvenir in their mouths, but once again, neither of us can be bothered with them. We will figure that out later.
As soon as I have Tomas settled in my kitchen, I move to the fridge and pull out a bottle of wine, and then grab a container of chocolate-covered strawberries that Jasper sent me yesterday.
“Wine and chocolate strawberries?” he asks, and I waggle my eyebrows at him as I uncork the wine.
“Yes. The cure for everything.”
I pull one out of the box and slide it between my lips, munching down on the sweet center. Tomas coughs and looks away, his ass shifting on the chair he’s perched on.
“You have a little…” He waves at my face, still not looking at me, and I swipe at my lips, dislodging a chunk of chocolate from my face.
“Ah, yes, so messy. Here, take a bite and have a drink and then tell me what’s wrong. Is it work? A girl? What’s going on?”
He doesn’t answer, just blushes and runs a hand down his face. He’s not eating the strawberries or drinking the wine. Perhaps this isn’t the cure-all for him that I thought it would be.
