AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The feel of his lips on my forehead lingers as I listen to him move around my kitchen, right along with how his hand felt against my skin after what feels like far too long without him touching me at all. I can't do this. I should tell him to go before I take all of this to mean something, everything, that it doesn't. I should make him leave before I fall even more for him. I should...
"Here we are," he says, interrupting my thoughts as he reenters my room. "The best chicken noodle soup you'll ever have in your life, and about four bottles of water."
But then I look at him, and all the things I know I should do flee, because here he is, smiling at me, looking at me like I mean so much more to him than I know I ever will. Here he is, holding a steaming bowl of soup in one hand, and far too many waters in the other. So instead of telling him to go like my mind is demanding I do, I smile back at him instead.
"How are you even balancing all those waters?" I joke.
"When you're a chef, you learn how to balance a lot at once."
"Should I ask you to do a little juggling act for me?"
He wiggles his brows. "You know I would. Now, sit back and enjoy this soup."
I move as quickly as I can to sit up more, but my body makes it feel like I'm running a marathon instead of barely inching up the headboard. He puts the waters on my nightstand and then hands me the bowl. The heat comes through the hand towel under the bowl as he takes a spoon wrapped in a napkin out of his pocket.
I chuckle. "Spoons in your pocket?"
"You'd be surprised the things I have in my pocket."
"I don't know if it's just me or if everything you say just truly sounds sexual."
He grins. "A little bit of both. Now, open up."
"You are not going to feed me a whole bowl of soup."
"Are you going to be this bad of a patient the whole time I'm here?"
The whole time he's...
"Alright, fine.” He hands me the spoon. “Feed yourself, but if you start spilling soup down your chin, don't look at me for help."
My laughter sounds strained even to my ears. "Duly noted."
"I'll be right back."
He leaves the room again, and I release a breath I hadn't even realized was trapped in my chest. What the hell is going on? How long is he planning on staying? Even though I still haven't quite recovered from the shock of him being here, hearing him sound like he plans to stay longer surprises me even more. And all for what? To take care of me? Because I mean even a fraction to him that he does to me? What is going on?
I hurry to pick up my spoon as I hear Jackson coming back to the bedroom. He comes in just as I'm bringing the first spoonful to my mouth.
"Well, how is it?" he asks.
I give him an apologetic face. "I can't taste."
He bursts out laughing. God, it feels like I haven't heard that laugh, haven't felt the rush of affection it evokes in a lifetime instead of days. It makes me laugh too. Then groan.
"My throat hurts way too much to be laughing," I complain.
"Alright, alright. I'll stop being my usual charming self."
If only he'd done that sooner and stopped me from falling in love with him.
"Anything you wanna watch?" he asks as he sits beside me against the headboard.
Lord, his arm brushing mine should not make me have to suppress a shudder. I pretend it's my fever that has me feeling such warmth from our contact.
"Um, anything is fine. Honestly, I feel this medicine starting to take effect, so I'll probably be sleeping in this soup in about ten minutes."
"It works that quick?"
