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“I guess I should have seen this coming,” Harrison says.
I rest my shoulder against the wall. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re a caregiver by nature, Dylan. You can’t help but lend a hand when someone you care about could use support.” He pauses briefly. “Wait a second, isn’t Marlow younger than you? Weren’t you the one who gave Jack a hard time for being too old to date Presley?”
“Presley is my kid sister; of course, I’m going to be protective.” I don’t mention the ten-year age gap between Marlow and me. It’s not relevant. “And for the record, nothing is happening between Marlow and me. She’s been incredibly helpful with Lola, and I’d like to return the favor.”
It’s nobody’s business that we’ve kissed or that all I can think about is doing it again, even though I shouldn’t.
“Mm-hmm. Sure.” I roll my eyes at his playful skepticism. “Listen, I’m walking into a board meeting, so I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“Yeah, sounds good,” I say.
I hang up the phone and tuck it into my back pocket.
I’m glad we were able to chat. It was nice to catch a glimpse of his fun-loving side. Our conversations are usually strictly about work since he’s too busy for anything else these days.
When I check on Marlow, she’s fast asleep.
I head downstairs and spend a good five minutes scouring her kitchen for a pad of sticky notes and a pen. I leave her a note in case she wakes up before I get back from taking Lola to school.
Waffles follows me around the house and lets out a low whine when I’m about to leave.
“What is it, boy?”
He looks longingly at the front door, and it occurs to me that he most likely hasn’t been let out since last night. He should probably go on a walk this morning, too, and Marlow’s in no condition to take him.
I let out a heavy sigh. “Fine, you win. You can come over to see Lola, but just this once, and you’re not allowed on the furniture, got it?”
He scratches at the door impatiently. I search for his leash, finding it wedged under a pair of Marlow’s sneakers in the living room. I have no clue how she finds anything in this mess.
I make the mistake of opening the front door before putting Waffles’ leash on, and he bolts outside.
“Waffles, wait,” I shout.
He completely ignores me, hightailing it to my yard. At least I know where he’s going, avoiding a high-speed chase. His behavior further proves my point that he needs to be trained. Starting today.
17
MARLOW
I GROAN AS I SHIFT to my side. It feels like I’ve gone multiple rounds with a pro boxer. My body is achy, and the relentless pounding in my head won’t stop. Exhaustion clings to me like a fog, zapping every ounce of energy I have left. I blink my eyes open and find my room is dark except for the soft glow of the bedside lamp.
I’m confused when I spot a humidifier on the nightstand, next to a bottle of water and two white pills sitting on top of a sticky note.
Good morning, sunshine,
Take these with water and call me so I can bring you something to eat.
-Dylan
I’m either dreaming or woke up in an alternate reality because there’s no way Dylan Stafford would willingly come to my house and take care of me… would he? I vaguely remember him being here earlier, but it’s all hazy. It’s possible he was a figment of my imagination brought on by the fever. I guess there’s only one way to find out.
I fumble around until I find my phone tangled in the blankets. I’m shocked when I check the time and realize that I’ve been in bed for nearly twenty-four hours, aside from the occasional trip to the bathroom and letting Waffles out last night. There are dozens of missed calls and texts from Dylan—the last message saying he’ll be back after he drops Lola off at school. That was over four hours ago.
When I stand, I wobble like a fawn taking its first steps and use the wall for support until I gain my bearings. I make my way downstairs, and my mouth falls open when I take in my surroundings.
The entryway is spotless—my shoes are arranged on a new shoe rack, Waffles’ toys are piled neatly in a basket, and there’s no trace of dog hair on the floor.
