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“Okay. Fair enough. You’re a big hockey player. Like physically big. You look mean. You act mean. You need a tutor because you don’t care about anything but hockey. You’re almost like this old soul. This grumpy old soul. Yet the second you see me sick you want to help me. Now, granted, you saw me vulnerable and debated making a move. Which I appreciate. But you’re taking care of me. Medicine. Soup. Like… really?”
“Maybe I’m just secretly a nice guy,” I say. “And I want you to feel better.” I lean down closer to Willow. “Or maybe I’m just a selfish prick and I need you alive and healthy to tutor me so I can get everyone off my back. I guess you’ll never know.”
Willow shakes her head. “Damn you.”
There’s another knock at the door.
This time it’s a woman holding two bags.
Lots of soup. Lots of crackers.
I thank her and I repeat the same move as before…
Shut the door. Lock the door. Go to Willow’s room.
She has a point about me. This really isn’t like me. To be a caretaker.
“There’s no other choice of soup when you’re sick,” I say to Willow.
“Ut-oh…”
I take the large container out of the bag and take off the lid.
Willow looks and groans. Like a legit orgasmic groan.
“Is that chicken noodle?”
“That’s right,” I say. “That’s all you need when you’re sick. Well, that and some medicine.”
I leave the lid off the soup and I open the medicine.
I pour the dark green, syrupy liquid into a small cup and hand it to Willow.
She throws it back like a shot of whiskey.
Even here… like this… watching her neck… her throat… I want to be turned on by her but I’m not. And it’s not against her at all. Honestly. Willow is beautiful. I just don’t think of her like that. I’m not sure I’ve ever had this happen before.
“Okay,” Willow says. “That tasted awful. I need water. Then soup.”
I hand her a bottle of water.
She takes a big drink.
I pick up the soup and as I turn to switch out the bottle of water with the soup, Willow smacks the water bottle against the soup.
It’s by accident, but the splash of chick noodle soup that hits my chest… doesn’t feel that great.
“Sorry!” Willow cries out.
I quickly put the soup down and I grab the bottom of my shirt and take it off.
The intense heat instantly goes away, which is good.
“Jax, are you okay?” Willow asks.
“That’s a creative way to get me shirtless,” I say with a wink.
“Are you okay? Answer me.”
