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They nod, absolutely serious. “I am, too. It’s awful.” They turn around and trudge up the stairs to their apartment, duvet dragging along the wooden treads. It saves me the need of hiding my grin. How can one person be so damned cute?
“So how long have you been sick?” It’s been a few days since we’ve seen each other, but we’ve been texting and Stef hadn’t mentioned feeling under the weather.
“Ages.” They sigh dramatically, flinging their apartment door open. “Two days, I think.”
Looking around the apartment, I believe them. There are empty mugs in the sink and pots on the stovetop, crusty with the remnants of whatever they’d been cooking. I set the bags of food on the counter and follow Stef into the big room. Tissues litter the floor and more empty mugs and bowls are crammed onto the side table. Their laptop is in the middle of the bed, a movie paused mid-stream, and an open bag of throat lozenges sits next to the pillows, surrounded by a sprinkling of empty wrappers. Stef flops onto the bed, almost bouncing the laptop onto the floor. I see I have my work cut out for me.
Taking off my suit jacket and tie, I carefully set them over the arm of the sofa. It doesn’t look like Stef’s made it to this half of the room yet, so they should be safe. I roll up my cuffs, and Stef groans, crawling up the bed. “No! No fair!” They fling themselves dramatically onto the pillows. “Sleeve rolling! No being sexy while I’m sick. It’s so cruel.”
I look down at myself and laugh. “Excuse me?”
“Sleeve rolling! Sexy forearms!” Flinging an arm over their eyes, they sigh. “Blake, how do you not know about the forearm thing?”
I’m utterly at a loss. What forearm thing? “No idea how I missed that. I’m sorry.”
Stef groans and rolls toward the bedside table, plucks a tissue from the box and waves it in my direction. “Fine. You’re forgiven.”
They blow their nose, and with a groan, they huddle in the middle of the bed, the duvet wrapped around them like a fluffy cocoon, fuzzy unicorn slippers poking out at the bottom. I do my best to hide my grin. Moving the laptop to the other side of the mattress, I carefully unwrap them until I can see Stef’s tired eyes. “How about we eat something then I’ll run a bath for you?”
The moan Stef makes would be lascivious if they weren’t actually sick. “Blake, you are a god among men.”
“Do you want to eat in the kitchen?”
In lieu of an answer, Stef groans and sits up, the duvet falling away to reveal bright pink unicorn print pajamas. I help them stand, and they sway into me, resting their head on my shoulder. “Thank you for bringing me food and medicine. If I don’t die, I’d really like to get naked with you again, so please don’t look at me too closely.”
Hiding my smile, I wrap my arms around them and kiss their forehead. It’s unusually warm against my lips. “You’re still gorgeous, sweetheart, just in a real-person kind of way. You’ll always be beautiful to me.”
Stef presses closer. “Really?”
“Of course. Stef, you’re gorgeous on the outside, but you’re also beautiful inside, and in my opinion, that matters more.”
They sniff. “How come I’m only beautiful on the inside?”
“What?”
They lean more of their weight against me. “There’s a scale. You said I was gorgeous on the outside and beautiful on the inside.”
They sound like they’re pouting, and I bite my lip so I don’t laugh. “Well, I didn’t know there was a scale. If you tell me what it is, I’ll rephrase using the proper terminology.”
There’s a pause, like they’re considering, then they shrug. “Alright. It’s nice, pretty, beautiful, gorgeous, stunning.”
“Mmm. I see. Well, you’re stunning inside and out.”
“Pfft. You’re just saying that because I’m sick. I look like heck.”
I slide my fingers through their hair, hoping they find it soothing. “Even sick, you’re still more beautiful than anyone else. But it’s time to eat.” I try to guess the last time they ate based on the contents of the dirty dishes on the side table, but can’t tell. “I brought lots of different things. How about a picnic on the bed?”
Stef leans away, all doe eyes and red nose. “Really?”
“Really. Let’s spread out the duvet, and I’ll go get the food and plates.” There’s a brief flash of excitement in their eyes, so I’m on the right track. After a bit of coaxing, Stef gives up the duvet, and we spread it over the bed. A few minutes after that, I return with a tray full of dishes and food. “Eat what you want, and stop when you’re done. I’ll box up everything we don’t finish and put it in the fridge.”
Stef sits cross-legged on the bed and I set the tray down in the middle. “What movie do you want to watch?”
I kick off my shoes and make myself comfortable against the headboard, legs out in front of me, crossed at the ankles. “Whatever you were watching is fine.”
“Okay, good, because I love this part.” Stef pulls the laptop closer and presses play as I hand them a plate of food. The highway scene from Clueless kicks into high gear, complete with screams and blaring horns. It’s not exactly the romantic dinner I’d envisioned when I planned our date atLaurent, but the whole point was to spend an evening with Stef. So, in a way, mission accomplished.
My phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out and glance at the screen. It’s one of my editors. Without hesitating, I press the side button and silence the text alert. Whatever it is can wait until tomorrow. Stef has my focus right now.
