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Whatever the reason for his tone, their relationship had changed. It only made sense to change the way they addressed one another too.
"Katie," she said and about lost her balance when a light appeared in his glossed over eyes. Maybe he wasn't as upset as she thought.
"Thank you, Katie."
Hearing her name on his lips, all pinched and gritty sealed the deal. He could hate her guts but he couldn't be left alone.
"Where are you going?"
"To get the groceries out of my car."
"What?" He coughed from speaking too forcefully.
"My ice cream will melt if I leave it in the car."
"You should take it home then." His eyes fell to the tissue he tore into little pieces between his fingers.
"I understand you're angry with me. I'm not trying to change that. I'm only trying to keep my own conscience clear. I'd never forgive myself if I walked out that door and you ended up dead. Just to spare our feelings."
"I'll be fine."
"Not without the proper supplies, you won't." She threw her shoulders back and marched toward the door.
"No. I can't take your food," he rasped.
"You're not." She looked back, over her shoulder. "We'll share it."
His eyes widened as the rest of his body sat stiffly.
She pivoted back toward him gesturing at his little living space. "You've been living off of chips and pudding snacks. You're obviously completely incapable of taking care of yourself. I'm staying."
"What? No. You can't."
"Excuse me. I can do whatever the hell I want. Unlike yourself, who's going to miss more than spring break if he doesn't hydrate properly."
Sighing, Isaac dropped his shoulders. "I'm not… Your project. You can't get that done if you're spending your time taking care of me."
"I'll have more than enough time to work while you sleep."
Isaac started to protest again. She stopped him with a hand in the air. "Nope. I've made up my mind. I'm staying whether you like it or not." With that, she went about moving in.
Chapter 15
On her way to the kitchen to put the groceries away, Katie plopped her jug of orange juice on the coffee table and picked up the empty one.
Since he hadn't finished the water she brought him, she said, "I'll be right back with a glass for that," and took the rest of the bags with her.
The kitchen looked to be in decent shape until she opened one of the cabinets next to the refrigerator. Boxes of pasta, cereal, oatmeal, and crackers spilled out hitting her in the face and chest.
The disorganization was too much for her to deal with at the moment. So, instead of putting the groceries away, she set them out neatly on the counter, shoved the boxes of dry goods back in the cabinet they’d fallen out of, then grabbed another glass from the one by the sink and took it to the living room.
Too late.
Isaac had already broken open the jug of orange juice—had it tipped back and was working on downing the last quarter of the gallon.
"Slow down," Katie called, still standing in the door between the two rooms.
Juice dribbled from one corner of his mouth as he let down the jug. Katie tried not to grin at how pitifully adorable he looked. And tried even harder to ignore the little flip her heart did when he wiped the stream from his chin with the back of his wrist before slamming the jug on the coffee table and collapsing back into his pillow.
