“When was the last time they were washed?” I grip the wall until I overcome my dizziness, unwilling to settle on the gross sheets. I’ve heard enough stories—they brag about fucking groupies like they’re gallant war time conquests—and even though I’ve never seen Trent bring anyone back here, I don’t trust him.
He pins me with a glare a moment before his smile kicks up the edges of his lips. “For someone who eats ramen, you sure are a diva with the linens.” He arranges the pillows, sheets, and blankets on his bed, and damn if it doesn’t look like heaven right now. My limbs beg me to give in and cuddle into the middle of it all.
“I like ramen. But I don’t want your sperm all over me.”
“Pity,” he says and straightens before he walks my way. He’s still only in his boxers, and I have to work extra hard to not let my eyes drop to examine that bulge below his waistband.
With a deep sigh and one rough cough, I lift my chin. Trent steps forward until he looms over me. He’s so much bigger. Larger than life in everything he does. I feel like a child standing in front of him.
His hand skims along the side of my sweatshirt and I can’t help but close my eyes. The back of his hand presses to my forehead and I sigh again, because damn that feels good.
“Shit, Lex. You’re burning up.” His voice is soft, like a familiar melody and it fills me with comfort.
“I am?” That sort of makes sense, what with how odd I feel and the dreams that seemed so real.
“Yeah,” he says and his hand leaves. My eyes open as he cradles me to his chest and lifts me in the air. “It’s okay, I’ve got you now.” He walks us to the edge of his bed and sets me in the middle.
As I expected, it feels amazing. I glance from side to side, my gaze roaming the surface. “Your sheets are clean.” My voice is full of surprise.
He chuckles. “Told you they were. Here, let’s get you out of that.” He grabs my sweatshirt and pulls. “Arms up.”
I obey and I’m left in my lacey cami and pink short shorts. I’d be embarrassed if this were awkward, but it’s not, and once the comforter covers my body, I’m glad he thought to take it off. “This down?” I say.
“I don’t know what the fuck it’s made of, but it’s comfortable.” He chuckles, then opens the door. “Stay here. I’ll be back.”
I settle against the pillows, my body seeking warmth and feeling flush all at the same time. Trent’s only gone a few minutes, then returns with his hands full. My pillows, water bottles, medicine. He’s like a sexy nurse. The thought hits me with a giggle.
“What’s so damn funny, Miss Sicky?” He smiles, stuffing one of my pillows under my head and handing me the water. My eyelids are heavy but I force my gaze to follow his long fingers. How come I never noticed before how long they were? I don’t know, but he moves them with fluid grace and it’s mesmerizing. He unscrews the cap of the medicine and hands me a few pills.
“Swallow,” he orders.
“Only if you’re lucky”
“Lexi, you’re so naughty when you’re sick.”
“I know, right? Too bad I’ll be back to my bitchy self tomorrow,” I joke, but when Trent answers he’s serious.
“I don’t think you’re a bitch.”
“No?”
“No. I like your quick sarcastic humor. Now, swallow.”
“Fine. Only ’cause you’re pretty.”
“You think I’m pretty?” His eyebrow, the one I jacked up, rises with his lips.
“It’s the hair. I wish I had your hair.”
“Just what every man wants to hear.” He stands from the bed, taking my water and setting it on the bedside table. “Need anything else?”
“You’re leaving?” I don’t know why that bothers me. I’ve never needed anyone to hold my hand or take care of me, but the thought of him going back to the main area of the bus doesn’t set well. Almost as if I’m scared to be alone. Must be the fever talking.
He stops, hand on the doorknob, and turns to consider me. Of course he’s leaving. It’d be stupid for him to stay. He owes me nothing, and what he’s done has been nothing short of sweet. “Only if you want me to.”
“Sorry. You can leave. It’s ... This ... It’s messing with more than my head. I wasn’t lying when I said I’ve never been sick.”
“I know just the thing to make you feel better.” His grin stretches wide on his face and he opens a cupboard, searching inside until he produces one of those old CD cases that holds disks.
