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“This is bullshit,” he mutters.
“Miss me that much?” I try to flutter my lashes, but it takes too much effort.
“Fuck yes. You’ve gotta be near the end of the tunnel.” The hope in his statement sparks my own.
“I’d like to believe so, but this virus or whatever is a real bitch. She’s a stage-five clinger.”
“Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?” Garrett’s gaze lingers on mine, reflecting an unfiltered desire to be needed.
A loose sigh escapes my chapped lips. “Other than sending adorable pictures of you and Belle? If I hadn’t already been overheated, that would’ve done the trick. But no, just you coming over to check on me is more than enough. It means a lot that you were willing to drive suuuuuper far to do so. I guess that makes up for you almost making me pass out from fear.”
“You weren’t answering my calls or texts.”
“Not intentionally. I’ve been occupied.”
“Either way, we’ve gotta quit meeting like this with you wearing that. It’s giving me the wrong idea.” He isn’t shy about checking me out with a thorough once-over.
It’s only then I remember that I have his sweatshirt on. “I’m so cozy.”
“As you should be during a lockdown.”
I tug on a frayed seam. “Do you want it back?”
“Nah, it’s yours. I like seeing you in my stuff.” His smolder is an inferno searing me from the inside out. Then he gulps and takes a visual sweep of my room. “What’s with all the books?”
“I’m a bit of a collector.”
“It looks like your shelves exploded.”
And that’s putting it mildly. An entire wall is reserved for the custom unit, but I’ve gone overboard with buying lately. The floor has become somewhat of a temporary storage.
“It should come as no surprise that I’m obsessed with romance novels,” I reason.
He leans forward to admire the stacks. “But there are several with the same title.”
I struggle to flick my wrist. “Different covers. Special editions are the rage right now.”
His brow furrows when he peeks over at me. “Um, okay.”
This is the point where I half expect him to abandon me. “Do you still wanna be friends?”
“Psssssh, duh.” He proves his dedication by moving closer to my side.
My breath stalls, ending in a shallow rasp. There’s a fuzzy texture on my tongue that reminds me I haven’t brushed my teeth in… well, I don’t even know how long. I clap a palm over my mouth and speak through my fingers. “If germs don’t chase you away, my breath probably will.”
He tugs at my hand until I release the makeshift mask. “Could’ve brought that spare toothbrush you borrowed. It’s in the bathroom cup right where you left it.”
It hurts to laugh, but that doesn’t stop me. “Thanks but I have my own. I just haven’t been able to get up for much more than dire needs.”
“Well, I’ll see to your more personal needs for a bit.”
My heart lurches, which has nothing to do with the sickness that plagues me. “How might you do that?”
His lips crook into a smirk that spears my depleted passion over a toasty flame. “I could read to you.”
“Oh.” Now my exhale whooshes out in a lusty wave. Just the idea kindles a slew of illicit fantasies.
He leaps off the bed to peruse my smutty collection. “Any suggestions?”
