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There was just something soothing about them.
I’d watched each of these dozens of times.
My mother didn’t give me much, but she did make sure to pass on her appreciation for everything ever made by the Brat Pack.
Nick had texted a couple of hours ago and said he was going to be a lot later than he’d originally planned.
Something had come up.
He’d told me not to wait for him. I was to tell Langcaster what I wanted to eat and the kitchen would make it.
The problem was—I really didn’t feel like eating.
I really didn’t feel like doing anything.
After seeing Nick’s text, I’d been relieved that I wouldn’t have to get up and look presentable for hours yet.
The more time I could spend huddled under these covers, the better.
I didn’t often have the luxury of laying around, feeling sorry for myself.
But tonight, I did.
So, I took it.
The mind-numbing movies helped.
And even though I felt worried and anxious about how Giselle and my family were currently doing—a selfish part of me felt relieved to be gone from that hole.
Not having to deal with the daily grind of problems and bills and—life, felt as though a hundred pounds had been lifted off my shoulders. Maybe two.
I knew it was the equivalent of running away from your problems—even though I was getting paid to run away from them. After this month, I was going directly back to real life.
My crappy, complicated, awful life.
“Are you ill?” I heard from the direction of my door and my head swiftly turned. I’d been concentrating so much on my own self pity that I hadn’t noticed Nick opening my door.
I raise up on my elbows. “No, I’m sorry, Nick. If you give me a few minutes, I’ll get up and shower. I didn’t think you’d be home for a while yet.”
He almost tentatively walked up to my bed, a look of concern etched into his face. He sat down on the edge of the bed and gently touched my face with his fingertips. Then he let his hand drift to my forehead to touch it with his palm.
I forced a smile and grabbed his hand away. “I’m fine. Just being lazy, I’m sorry,” I apologized again, hoping he wouldn’t think I was trying to shirk my duties—the reason I was here. “Let me shower and I’ll be right back,” I said, setting his hand down on the bed and pushing up to sitting.
“Did you eat?” Nick asked, not moving and not letting go of my hand. In fact, he pinned it to the bed so I couldn’t move.
“No, I’m not hungry.” I bit my teeth into my bottom lip and left it at that.
His eyes traced my face, making me feel exposed. “I’ll get the kitchen to make you something.”
Again, I forced myself to smile. “I’m really not hungry. But if you want to eat, I can sit with you while you do.” I offered, even though all I wanted to do was fall back to my pillows and watch my movie.
He shook his head, then briefly touched his lips to my forehead. “Give me a few minutes and I’ll be back.” His hands reached for the blankets and straightened them out. “Lay down, my dear,” he said, waiting for me to move.
“I’ll get up and shower.”
“Lay down.”
I did what he said and laid back on the most comfortable pillows in the world. Nick covered me up, his eyes still holding something that looked like worry in them. “Keep doing whatever you were doing. Don’t move.”
