I jumped in the shower and swung by the store on the way to her place. I needed to know. If I needed to, I would lay my cards on the table. Because the thought of not seeing her felt like someone just sucker punched me in the stomach.
I knocked on her door, and after a minute the door swung open. Violet stood, wrapped in a blanket, skin pale and free of any makeup.
Jesus. I thought she was beautiful with all that dark shit on her face, but this Violet was breathtaking. Except it was obvious she really wasn’t feeling well.
“What are you doing here?”
“Wanted to check on you.” I held up the grocery bag in my hand. “I got you stuff from the store.”
I took a step forward and she sighed, opening the door wider and stepping out of the way. “Seth, I don’t want to get you sick. I’m fine. It’s just the flu or something.”
I didn’t give a shit if she got me sick. I reached out and placed the back of my hand on her forehead. Fuck. She was burning up.
“Have you taken anything?”
She shook her head. “Not since early this morning.”
“Come on.” I wrapped my arm around her shoulders and led her to her couch. “I wasn’t sure what flavor Gatorade you liked, so I got four different ones.”
She sent me a weak smile. “Red is fine.”
I opened the cold medicine and handed her the two capsules before opening the red bottle of Gatorade and handing her that as well. “Have you eaten anything today?”
She shook her head.
“Think you can try some soup if I make it?”
“Seth, you don’t have to do?—”
“Violet, I’m not leaving.”
She sighed. “Fine, it’s your funeral. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“Well, if I get sick, then you can come take care of me.”
She laid her head back against the top of the cushion and closed her eyes. “What soups do you have?”
“Chicken noodle, chicken and rice, or vegetable.”
“Chicken noodle, please.”
I wanted to sit with her and hold her, but she needed to eat too. She didn’t open her eyes or look back at me, so I went into the kitchen and started heating up the soup.
I smiled as my gaze landed on the African Violet. It looked like it was thriving, and I loved that she was actually taking care of it. Lucy used to forget about them and would end up killing them.
After I finished heating up the soup, I brought it back into the living room. “Here you go.”
Violet lifted her head and sat up straight, taking the bowl from my hands. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” I sat down next to her, looking her over. Her hair was pulled up into a messy bun, and the color was coming back to her face a little.
The blanket she’d wrapped around her shoulders had dropped to her waist when she sat up. I froze as my gaze ran over the front of her loose-fitting white T-shirt, curious if she was wearing a bra. The material pulled against her breast as she moved her hand to her mouth, taking a bite of soup. The outline of her nipple—along with something else—became visible before she moved her arm again and the shirt relaxed against her once more. I couldn’t be sure, but was it a nipple piercing I thought I saw? My dick seemed to like that idea very much, and the urge to find out was overwhelming.
I shifted uncomfortably. The last thing she needed was me sporting a hard-on while she was sick.
Pull it together, Davis.
She stole a glance over at me. “You know you really don’t have to do all this. It’s not like you’re my real boyfriend or anything.” She chuckled awkwardly, leaning forward and placing her bowl on the table.
