Do I want brownie points?
Dammit, I do.
I thank Mabel with a smile and then turn back to Harriet. My smile falls. I nearly jump from the stern look in her eyes. Like she’s slowly extracting my soul and weighing it. Silently, Harriet comes to some sort of conclusion about me, and then grabs the box of cold medicine and begins scanning.
Bizarrely, I find myself feeling relieved by that. Maybe even a little proud.
There’s clearly something in the water of this damn town.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Annie
Okay, Annie. You can do it. You can get your booty off the floor and get to your doctor’s appointment.
This is what I get for needing water. I thought by now I had trained my body to not need it anymore—to live on a strict coffee-only diet—but no. The little weasel decided to defy me and demand rehydration.
After drinking my obligatory sip of water, I thought I just needed a little rest, so I sat down on the floor in the kitchen, and then that turned into lying on the floor of the kitchen, and now here I am…thirty minutes later, still lying here, head pounding, ears feeling like someone took a baseball bat to them, and nose so stuffy it’s possible I’ll never breathe through my nostrils again.
My sisters left for their Mexico trip yesterday, and now I’m wondering if this is where I’ll die and how my sisters will find me when they come home glowing and suntanned from the beach. They’ll hover over my body and laugh that I died wearing banana-print underwear and matching tank top. But it’s not my fault that I can’t sleep in PJ bottoms, and it was too hard to bend over and pull them on before walking into the kitchen because my body has no energy left from expending it all trying to breathe.
But I have to get up. Must get up. I have a date tomorrow with Brandon—the guy from the flower shop. I vetted him on Instagram, and then we texted a few times and set up a date for Saturday, which is tomorrow. So far, I don’t feel exuberant sparks when we talk, but I’m sure that’ll come later. No need to worry, Annie. Earlier, I managed to call Dr. Mackey and get an appointment for this afternoon, so maybe she could prescribe something to get me better before the date—but how in the chicken potpie am I going to get there?
At this moment, there’s a knock on my door. I don’t answer it because I’m only 50 percent conscious. I think it might actually be a burglar because I heard the doorknob jiggle, followed by its opening. Good. I’ll ask him for a ride to the doctor.
“Annie?” A voice hovers over me, and I cringe because I know that voice, and I also know that I’m pantsless. I hear a thunk as he drops to his knees. “Shit, Annie. Talk to me—are you okay?”
“Will? Are you kidding me?” I crack my eyes open to find the world’s most attractive man kneeling down beside me, looking relieved that I’m not dead. That’s sweet.
I know I should feel upset to see him without my pants （especially because I know he’s been avoiding me since that misinterpreted kiss at Hank’s the other night）， but instead, I feel a deep sense of peace. “I wasn’t trying to make him jealous, you know,” I say, because I’ve been dying to tell him the truth for days. But I didn’t want to do it over the phone.
“Shh—it’s fine, Annie.”
He pushes my hair back and I catch his wrist. “It’s not fine. It’s important to me that you know it wasn’t a game.”
Will takes in a soft deep breath and then nods. “Okay.”
I smile—feeling a hundred pounds lighter now that that’s off my chest and close my eyes again. “Okay, now leave. You’re not supposed to see me like this.”
“Like what? Pantsless? Wearing underwear printed with little yellow banana characters on them?” he asks with a crooked grin. “Cute. They match your PJs.”
I groan and toss my arm over my eyes. “Leave me to die.”
“That’s one option. But then who would service everyone’s flower needs in town?”
“The keys are in my purse. The shop is yours now. Please don’t give anyone ugly carnation bouquets.”
A low rumbly laugh sounds from his chest, and all I want is to press my face to it and feel the vibrations against my cheek. “I don’t love flowers as much as you.”
“Says the man who has them tattooed on his skin for eternity.”
“Good to know you still have your sense of humor.” I feel his hand rest over my forehead and he hisses. “Geez, you’re burning up. Have you taken anything lately?”