Rock with Me
Page 20
“Your temp is still high. Did you take some Tylenol?”
“I don’t have any,” I whisper, my eyes falling closed. I’m just so weak, I can’t keep my eyes open.
“I brought some.” He tucks me into the bed and leaves the room, returning quickly with a glass of water and pills. “Take these, and then I want to take your temp.”
I comply, too weak to argue. I should kick his ass out of here, but I’m too weak for that too.
He takes the water from me and sticks the thermometer into my mouth, sitting at my hip on the side of the bed. His fingers are trailing down my cheek and then my neck, softly, soothingly. He’ll put me to sleep.
God, I just want to sleep.
“One-oh-two,” he mutters and exhales deeply. “Too high, sunshine. The Tylenol should work. Get some sleep. I’ll wake you in a few hours for more and to take your temp again.”
“Don’t need you to stay,” I whisper. “Don’t want you to see me like this.”
“I’m not leaving, and you’re too weak to kick my dumb ass out of here, so deal with it, sugar.” I feel his lips on my forehead again and then nothing as sleep finally claims me.
***
“Wake up, baby. Sam, wake up.” A cool cloth is being rubbed on my forehead and Leo’s smooth voice is calling to me. “Sam, I need you to take more medicine. Wake up.”
I open my eyes and there he is. He wasn’t a dream. His eyes look worried, and his hair is messier than usual.
He looks tired.
“What time is it?” I ask, my voice hoarse.
“About two in the morning. Here, take these.” He hands me two small white pills and water and then takes my temp again. “One hundred even. It’s coming down.”
“I’m a sweaty mess,” I mutter in disgust.
“Do you want a shower?” He asks.
“Yeah.”
“Let’s go.” He pulls the covers back and helps me to my feet, but I’m wobbly with weakness.
Fuck, I hate feeling like this.
“A bath it is.” He smiles down at me and scoops me into his arms.
“I thought I dreamed you,” I whisper and bury my nose in his neck.
“That explains why you were telling someone they were sexy and talented and wonderful in your sleep.” He winks down at me and I can’t help the small smile that finds its way across my lips.
“That explains it,” I agree. He sets me gently on the toilet while he runs the hot water in the tub, pulls the soaked t-shirt over my head, helps me out of my panties and scoops me back into his arms so he can lower me into the water.
“It feels cold.” I frown at him.
“I can’t give you a super hot bath, honey. I’m trying to break your fever.” He scoops up my dirty clothes and tosses them into my hamper. “Where are you pajamas?”
“Sleep shirts are in the top drawer of my dresser. Panties are in the second drawer down.”
He nods and leaves the bathroom and I just push my hands through the water, watching it fall over my knees. He’s really good at this taking care of someone stuff.
“Where did you learn to be a caretaker?” I ask him.
“I took care of Meg for a long time.” He shrugs and smiles down at me sweetly, that piercing catching my eye, and I can’t help but remember what he can do with that little piece of metal. He holds up another Nash t-shirt. “What’s with all the concert t-shirts?”
“I see a lot of concerts.” I look back down at the water, embarrassed that he’s seen all of my Nash shirts. “I always get a t-shirt and use them for pajamas.”
“You have quite a Nash collection.”
“They’re my favorite,” I whisper, my eyes falling closed again. “Happy now?”
“Getting there,” he whispers and kisses my forehead. “Come on, baby, let’s get you back in bed.” He scoops me out of the bath and I gasp at the cold air that feels even colder on my over-heated skin.
“So cold.” I watch him wrap a towel around me as I start to shiver. “I’m sorry.”
“Why are you sorry?” He asks.
“That you’re taking care of me.”
“I’m not sorry about that.” He briskly dries me and slips the soft cotton t-shirt over my head, lifts me in his arms again and delivers me to the bedroom. “I am sorry about the other night, Samantha. Jesus, I am so sorry. I would never use you.”
“I know. I’m sorry too. I’m so mean when I’m scared,” I whisper and snuggle down in bed. He brushes his fingers through my hair, rhythmically, gazing down at me softly.
“I’ll sleep in the spare room,” Leo offers and starts to stand, but I grab his wrist to keep him next to me.
“I don’t have a spare room.”
“This is a two bedroom apartment.” He frowns down at me and I offer him a small smile.
“I converted the other bedroom into a closet. No bed there. Sleep here.” I yawn, sleep pulling me back down. “Where’s my cat?” I ask.
“He’s been following me around. I fed him. Just sleep.” I feel the bed dip as he climbs under the covers behind me and pulls me against him, his arms around me, fully clothed, and let sleep take me over.
***
Sunlight is spilling over my face as I wake and look about the room. I’m in bed alone again, aside from Levine, curled up at my feet, snoring.
“I don’t have any,” I whisper, my eyes falling closed. I’m just so weak, I can’t keep my eyes open.
“I brought some.” He tucks me into the bed and leaves the room, returning quickly with a glass of water and pills. “Take these, and then I want to take your temp.”
I comply, too weak to argue. I should kick his ass out of here, but I’m too weak for that too.
He takes the water from me and sticks the thermometer into my mouth, sitting at my hip on the side of the bed. His fingers are trailing down my cheek and then my neck, softly, soothingly. He’ll put me to sleep.
God, I just want to sleep.
“One-oh-two,” he mutters and exhales deeply. “Too high, sunshine. The Tylenol should work. Get some sleep. I’ll wake you in a few hours for more and to take your temp again.”
“Don’t need you to stay,” I whisper. “Don’t want you to see me like this.”
“I’m not leaving, and you’re too weak to kick my dumb ass out of here, so deal with it, sugar.” I feel his lips on my forehead again and then nothing as sleep finally claims me.
***
“Wake up, baby. Sam, wake up.” A cool cloth is being rubbed on my forehead and Leo’s smooth voice is calling to me. “Sam, I need you to take more medicine. Wake up.”
I open my eyes and there he is. He wasn’t a dream. His eyes look worried, and his hair is messier than usual.
He looks tired.
“What time is it?” I ask, my voice hoarse.
“About two in the morning. Here, take these.” He hands me two small white pills and water and then takes my temp again. “One hundred even. It’s coming down.”
“I’m a sweaty mess,” I mutter in disgust.
“Do you want a shower?” He asks.
“Yeah.”
“Let’s go.” He pulls the covers back and helps me to my feet, but I’m wobbly with weakness.
Fuck, I hate feeling like this.
“A bath it is.” He smiles down at me and scoops me into his arms.
“I thought I dreamed you,” I whisper and bury my nose in his neck.
“That explains why you were telling someone they were sexy and talented and wonderful in your sleep.” He winks down at me and I can’t help the small smile that finds its way across my lips.
“That explains it,” I agree. He sets me gently on the toilet while he runs the hot water in the tub, pulls the soaked t-shirt over my head, helps me out of my panties and scoops me back into his arms so he can lower me into the water.
“It feels cold.” I frown at him.
“I can’t give you a super hot bath, honey. I’m trying to break your fever.” He scoops up my dirty clothes and tosses them into my hamper. “Where are you pajamas?”
“Sleep shirts are in the top drawer of my dresser. Panties are in the second drawer down.”
He nods and leaves the bathroom and I just push my hands through the water, watching it fall over my knees. He’s really good at this taking care of someone stuff.
“Where did you learn to be a caretaker?” I ask him.
“I took care of Meg for a long time.” He shrugs and smiles down at me sweetly, that piercing catching my eye, and I can’t help but remember what he can do with that little piece of metal. He holds up another Nash t-shirt. “What’s with all the concert t-shirts?”
“I see a lot of concerts.” I look back down at the water, embarrassed that he’s seen all of my Nash shirts. “I always get a t-shirt and use them for pajamas.”
“You have quite a Nash collection.”
“They’re my favorite,” I whisper, my eyes falling closed again. “Happy now?”
“Getting there,” he whispers and kisses my forehead. “Come on, baby, let’s get you back in bed.” He scoops me out of the bath and I gasp at the cold air that feels even colder on my over-heated skin.
“So cold.” I watch him wrap a towel around me as I start to shiver. “I’m sorry.”
“Why are you sorry?” He asks.
“That you’re taking care of me.”
“I’m not sorry about that.” He briskly dries me and slips the soft cotton t-shirt over my head, lifts me in his arms again and delivers me to the bedroom. “I am sorry about the other night, Samantha. Jesus, I am so sorry. I would never use you.”
“I know. I’m sorry too. I’m so mean when I’m scared,” I whisper and snuggle down in bed. He brushes his fingers through my hair, rhythmically, gazing down at me softly.
“I’ll sleep in the spare room,” Leo offers and starts to stand, but I grab his wrist to keep him next to me.
“I don’t have a spare room.”
“This is a two bedroom apartment.” He frowns down at me and I offer him a small smile.
“I converted the other bedroom into a closet. No bed there. Sleep here.” I yawn, sleep pulling me back down. “Where’s my cat?” I ask.
“He’s been following me around. I fed him. Just sleep.” I feel the bed dip as he climbs under the covers behind me and pulls me against him, his arms around me, fully clothed, and let sleep take me over.
***
Sunlight is spilling over my face as I wake and look about the room. I’m in bed alone again, aside from Levine, curled up at my feet, snoring.
