She leans back. “I don’t want you to get sick, but I don’t want you to go either.”
I take the hat and hand it to her. “Here. A little something of me to hold onto while I’m gone.” I pull the blankets up and then stand.
Her fingers wrap around it and a small smile appears. “Thanks.”
With her tucked in, I ask, “Keys?”
“By the door.” I tug my coat from the back of the chair and put it on. When I snatch the keys from the ring, she adds, “Yes.”
I unlock the door but stop to look back. “Yes?”
“I’ll go out with you.”
Nodding, I swing open the door. “Drink the water and then get some rest.”
With a salute and a smile, she replies, “I’ll see you later.”
There’s no question that she trusts that I’ll return. My stomach clenches, and I look away. I’m not sure why her words knock the breath out of me, but they’re like a punch to the gut. I turn back like it’s the last time I might see her. I take a prolonged look at her—everything from the sweet smile to that trust that still lies in her eyes as she holds my gaze.
I smile and give her a little wave. “I’ll see you later, Story.” Closing the door behind me, I lock it and shove her keys deep into my coat’s pocket, not wanting to lose them. After putting on my shoes, I head out in search of something to make her feel better.
It’s on that walk, along the soaked streets where the water has mostly drained away, that I realize this might be the first time in years I’ve felt at peace. There’s no reason to feel a calm washing through me.
I’m roaming the streets with daylight just starting while I look for a store to purchase something that will help Story feel better quicker. Nothing about the task itself is really relaxing. So I guess it’s the girl who has me feeling unlike myself.
Cutting across two blocks, I find a store on the corner and sort through their limited selection. Just as I decide on the liquid cold-and-flu remedy, I hear, “Is that you, Mr. Haywood?”
I steel myself before turning around. “Professor Greene, what a coincidence running into you like this.”
“You survived the storm, but what has you out and about at this hour?”
I hold up the medicine. “My . . .” I stop, not sure what to call Story. What is she to me? Stranger? Girl I hooked up with? Savior? I go with, “My friend is sick and needed something to help with her symptoms.”
“That’s too bad. I hope she feels better.”
“Me too.” I rock back on my feet. “Guess I’ll be seeing you in a few hours.”
Her brow furrows and eyes narrow. “Why will I be seeing you?”
“I need to turn in my paper. You said nine o’clock.”
“Ah.” She hums. “It’s been a rough night. First the storm and then, well, this.” She holds up stomach acid pills. “Did you finish the paper?”
“I worked until after two to finish it. I think it’s my best work.”
Her eyebrows rise. “I look forward to reading it, but it won’t be today. Take care of your friend. I’m hearing it could be tomorrow before campus gets electricity again. Drop it off then.”
This is the professor who gave me the hardest time all semester. Sure, it didn’t help that I skipped half my classes, but I more than made up for it on the exams. An extra day would allow me to get some rest before tackling anything else. “You sure? I have it ready to turn in.”
She starts backing toward the register. “I’m sure. You’ve done the work, so take the day to study for your other classes. Just don’t forget to turn in your paper tomorrow.”
“I won’t. Thank you.”
“Stay safe out there,” she says before she turns to pay.
Knowing I have extra time on my hands, I shop the aisles, looking for soup and electrolyte drinks to fill her fridge. After paying for the groceries, I head back, taking a little more time to examine any damage the town sustained. Fortunately, it doesn’t look like much more than debris and standing water remain.
When I reach Story’s building again, I mess with the lock on the lobby door for a minute before discovering it just needs to be replaced. I go upstairs and pull the keys out of my pocket like I live here. Feeling too natural to be normal, this is dangerous for me.
I don’t do this with girls for a reason. They’re a dime a dozen. Why does she feel different? I’m determined to find out.
Sneaking in the door, I spy her sound asleep, snuggled up and wearing my hat with the blankets wrapped around her. A hat is probably the last thing she needs with her fever, but she looks cute in the dark blue beanie.
I unpack the bags, then try to figure out what I should be doing. I made the effort, so getting medicine in her is first on the priority list. But am I staying after that? I guess it depends on how long the invitation remains open.
I find a spoon and sit next to her on the bed again. “Story?” She doesn’t wake after a few gentle nudges, so I decide her sleep is more valuable in healing than this orange stuff. I set it on her nightstand, then check her forehead. It’s cooled some, which means the Tylenol is working. I’d hate to have to shove her in an ice bath. I have a feeling our date would be off again after that.
Since she’s still warm, though, I undress down to my underwear, knowing the flannel will be too hot. Sure, I could go home to my cold apartment, but I’d much rather be in bed with Story, even sick, than alone.
When I climb into bed, she moves closer the moment I’ve settled next to her. Fuck it. I’ve already been around her and kissed her, so I suspect I’ll be sick soon.
I stare up at the ceiling for a while and then out the window, but it’s when I turn to face her that I finally relax. My eyes grow heavy, and soon enough, I’m losing the strength to stay awake.
7
Story
Shamelessly pressing my chest to him, the feel of his erection hard against my softness, I push up and straddle this sexy man. As soon as I do, I’m tossed onto my back and mercilessly kissed until I’m begging for more of everything—the way his green eyes drink me in, how his hands squeezed my ass when I mounted him, and how he fills me so—I exhale, the temperature under the covers too hot to be comfortable.
These dreams are getting out of hand. It’s like I can feel him against me even now. After licking my lips, I try to take a deep breath but end up coughing instead. Opening my eyes, it’s not my dry throat that has my eyes as wide as saucers.
It’s Cooper.
I lie there still as can be, noticing even my breath is held in place. But I need to breathe, so I do it slowly and then turn to face him.
His hard jaw remains taut, but his features are at peace. Something about his expression is so gentle when he sleeps. I still prefer when he’s awake. He’s gorgeous. But more than that, he helped me break free from some of the fears I’d been holding on to. I’m not sure what it was about him that had me wanting more than time with him, but after making out and getting off, I have no regrets.
Fortunately for me, his eyes begin to open, and as soon as he sees me, he grins. Reaching forward, he presses his hand to my head. “You’re a little hot. How are you feeling?” he asks.
“Only a little hot?” I grin.
He chuckles. “A lot hot in the sexual department, but as for your temperature, we still need to bring it down.” He sits up and drops his feet to the floor.
It’s the first time I’m seeing his body . . . without clothes. Sure, he looked great clothed. I checked him out at the coffee shop before I even approached him. His style is a cross between J. Crew and rugged, dressed for the weather and season from head to toe. His hair is still holding a style despite the bad weather. But it was his profile, the slightest of bumps on the bridge of his nose that broke up the handsome perfection of his other features.