The door opened, and Elias bit back a mutter when he saw her. She had a throw blanket wrapped around her shoulders, wore a tank top and short set and looked like death warmed over.
“Can I come in?”
“You might catch the plague.”
One side of his mouth quirked as he stepped forward, and she automatically backed up to give him room. “I warned you this might happen,” he said, unable to stop the words or his smirk when she glared at him.
She padded away on bare feet, and he followed her slow path into her living room, watching as she plopped down on the couch and then fell sideways like the walk to the door had taken every ounce of her energy.
“Have you eaten today?”
She waved a hand at the coffee table and a half-eaten slice of pizza. No doubt a leftover from move-in day. “That might technically have all the food groups in it, but it’s not going to help you fight off whatever you’ve picked up.”
“Hate, hate, hate,” she mumbled, her words muffled by the pillow beneath her head.
Elias grabbed the edge of a second blanket she must have brought from the bedroom and covered her long legs, taking a good look in the process. “I’ll warm up some soup for you.”
“I don’t have soup.”
“You do now.” He went to the kitchen, eyeing it with more than a little unease when he noted the mess of pizza boxes stacked atop a trash bin and dirty dishes in the sink. “The guys could’ve at least taken the trash out after you fed them the other day.”
“I told them not to worry about it because they’d done so much already.”
They should’ve done it anyway, he groused silently. Elias went about searching through the cabinets and found a surprisingly solid assortment of dishes. He grabbed a bowl and microwaved the soup to warm it up.
“Sit up,” he said a minute or so later as he carried the bowl and a towel toward her.
She groaned as she did, eyeing the soup like a toddler would a vegetable.
“Whatisthat? My nose is stuffy, but it still smells awful.”
“It’ll help you. Now are you going to eat it, or do I need to force-feed you?” He bit back a laugh when she glared at him and then sat forward with an attitude while she opened her mouth like a little bird. “Pathetic.”
A hint of a smile formed on her face as he sat on the edge of the coffee table and lifted the spoon to her lips. Her face was pale but flushed, and her eyes had a glassy sheen to them. He fed her a few bites before setting the bowl aside long enough to press the back of his hand to her forehead and noted the way her hand trembled when she lifted it to wrap around his wrist.
Quinley closed her eyes, leaned into his touch, and Elias frowned. “Do you have any fever reducer?”
“Somewhere. I’m fine, though.”
“You’re not,” he said, letting his fingertips trail over her soft cheek before pulling away. He placed the towel-wrapped bowl on her lap. “Finish every bite while I look for meds.”
“So bossy. If I didn’t feel like I ran into a wall and the wall fell on me,” she murmured, “I’d have a smart come back. A good one.”
“I’m sure you would.” His cabinet search earlier had revealed a first aid kit and a few vitamin bottles above the stove, and he returned there now, finding a travel-size bottle of fever reducer. He went to the fridge and grabbed a water bottle, carrying both with him and pausing to watch as she lifted the bowl to her lips and drank the last of the soup.
That was not something he’d imagined Quinley Anders, spoiled princess, would do.
“That was better than it smelled. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He popped the cap and handed her two of the pills before opening the water bottle for her as well. “Down these, and I’ll help you to bed. You’d be more comfortable there than on the couch.”
“It’s still daylight.”
“Doesn’t matter when you’re sick.”
She grumbled something else about bossy men before swallowing the pills with a grimace and wrinkle of her nose.
“Throat sore?”
