AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Shut up,” I grumble.
Ford just rolls his eyes and heads back behind the counter, and I dig into my breakfast. Foster and Xavier are busy eating too so I take the moment to look out the window again.
Mira still hasn’t walked by, and I frown. I know that she had to work at the bookstore today and should have gone by before now.
Could she have overslept? Is she alright? I should go check on her.
The door of the diner opens, and Saffron rushes in and up to the counter to grab the to-go cup of coffee that Ford is filling up for her. She thanks him and turns to rush back out but I stop her as she walks past our table.
“Hey,” I say, stopping her before she can leave. “Where’s Mira?”
“Oh, she’s sick this morning. I feel so bad. She probably caught what I had,” Saffron says, looking sad.
I push to my feet, and she steps back, staring at me with wide eyes. Foster and Xavier don’t look surprised as I grab my wallet and throw down some bills.
“I’ll see you later,” I tell them, and they wave as I head for the door.
I hop in my truck and head down the two blocks to Mira’s apartment. The lights are off when I look up at the windows, and worry starts to gnaw at me as I hop out of my truck and hurry over to the door.
I ring the buzzer and wait impatiently. Finally, the intercom crackles, and I lean closer.
“Hello?” She croaks.
“Mira, it’s me. Let me in,” I growl into the intercom.
“I’m fine, Townes. I just need to rest.”
The intercom crackles like she turned it off, and I hit the button again.
“Go away,” she sighs when she answers again.
“Not a chance. I’m not going anywhere. Let me up or I’m just going to stand here all day and ring the buzzer.”
“You can’t order me around,” she snaps, sounding more like herself.
“Wanna bet?” I snap.
The intercom remains silent, and I take a deep breath, trying to calm down.
“Mira, please let me in,” I relent.
I would beg her for anything. I would get on my knees and grovel for her to just look at me. I am clearly wrapped around her finger, and she doesn’t even seem to realize it.
She sighs loud and long, but then the door buzzes and I push inside and take the stairs two at a time up to her door. She’s leaning against the doorframe, looking pale and tired but still so beautiful.
“What are your symptoms?” I ask, already reaching to feel her forehead.
“I’m just tired and have a runny nose,” she says, trying to push my hand away.
“What do you need?” I ask.
“Nothing. I just need to go back to bed,” she insists.
“Give me your keys,” I demand, and she glares up at me.
“What? No.”
“Give me your keys and you can go back to bed.”
