“How are you feeling?”
I run my fingers through my hair, the thought just occurring to me how rough I must look. I’d taken a shower with the little bit of energy I had but hadn’t taken the time to blow-dry my hair. I fell asleep with it soaking wet, and I don’t have to look in a mirror to know it’s probably a tangled mess.
Taking me by surprise, he takes a step closer and presses his palm to my forehead. His hand feels cold against my skin. When he slides it down my face and presses it to my cheek, I can’t help but lean into the feeling of his cool skin against mine.
“You’re warm,” he clips, his voice gruff. He sounds upset. Like he’s angry that I’m running a fever.
“I probably need to take more meds,” I offer, walking toward my room.
My eyes scan my place. It’s kind of a mess right now because I haven’t had the energy to clean up. My shoes are haphazardly strewn through the hallway. I have to step around a pair of heels before I fall flat on my face over them.
I want to apologize for how messy things are, but I’m focused on his words from moments ago. What did he mean by them? There was a hidden meaning behind his words, and I can’t help but wonder—maybe even hope—that his comment has something to do with me. Compared to his pristine life, I’m chaotically messy. But I like that about myself—and now I’m left wondering if he’s starting to appreciate that about me.
“This wasn’t the way I first envisioned you in my room,” I joke, walking to my nightstand. There are four different kinds of medications lined across the top. I inspect them, deciding which one I want to take. As tired as I am, I’m going to pass on the NyQuil since it’s morning and I’d like to be awake for some of the day at least.
Camden grabs my ruffled comforter, holding it up and nodding toward it. “Get in,” he demands, his voice stern, making me break out in goose bumps despite my feverish skin.
“Now demanding me to get in bed? Is this why you came today, Camden?”
His lips press into a thin line. He’s clearly not amused by my taunting. “You can get in bed, or I can pick you up and throw you in bed. Either way, you’ll give your body the rest it deserves.”
I stare at him wide-eyed. Why does he have to be so hot when he’s bossing me around?
I tell myself I only listen because my body aches, and I’m starting to feel a little light-headed from moving around. I climb in between the sheets, trying not to let out a satisfied sigh when he begins to tuck my blankets in around me.
“You don’t have to do this.” My eyes stay trained on him as he reads the labels of each of the medicines on my nightstand.
“I don’t have to do what?” His eyes don’t move from inspecting each label.
“Come over and take care of me because I’m sick.”
Camden pins me with a stare, a slight smirk to his lips. His large hands grip one of the pill bottles as he shakes his head at me. “If you haven’t learned this already, I don’t do anything I don’t want to do. I heard you were sick, and I wanted to be here.” He pops the lid off and empties a couple of the pills into his large palm. He holds it out, wagging his fingers at me. “Take these.”
“What if you’re poisoning me?”
He rolls his eyes. “You saw me take them out of the bottle. Open your mouth.”
The look on his face leaves no room for argument. My mouth parts, my tongue peeking out to take the pills. He places them on my tongue, handing over my water from the nightstand.
“Swallow,” he commands. And I do, my body heating even more from the way he looks at me. It wasn’t long ago he was telling me the same thing, and I did exactly as I was told, just like I am now. His mind must be going to the same place because his eyelids get heavy.
“Now, drink some more water and lay down. I’m going to go grab the food I brought. I forgot it in the car.”
I watch his tall, athletic body storm out of the open doorway, giving me time to appreciate him from the back. He’s dressed as if he could have a meeting at any moment—while I don’t even have on pants because I was so tired when I got out of the shower last night—and I miss his cocky smirk the moment he walks out the door.
I stare at the empty doorway for a few moments before I take a few more gulps of water. Kitty whines from her dog bed, making me apparently not the only one missing Camden.
When he comes back in, he’s carrying food from the bakery. He hands it to me, and I can’t hide the smile when I look inside. “My favorite.”