Bad Romeo (Starcrossed #1)(82)
Author: Leisa Rayven

I sigh. “No. I’ve never been to your apartment.”

I can practically hear her incredulity. “Are you freaking kidding me? In all the time you two have been hanging out, he never took you there?”

“Nope.”

“Let me guess, that’s one of the things the fight was about?”

“Pretty much.”

“My brother’s a dick.”

Yes, but I want him to be my dick.

“Well,” Elissa says, “Ruby knows where we live. Do you think she’d drive you?”

Ruby rolls her eyes dramatically and throws her arms up in defeat.

“Yeah, I think I can convince her.”

“Okay. Thanks, Cassie. I really owe you for this.”

“You really, really do.”

Twenty minutes later, Ruby pulls up in front of a well-kept apartment building. The whole trip I’ve been praying that Holt’s at death’s door, because that’s the only explanation for why he hasn’t called that doesn’t make my chest hurt.

“Their apartment is number four,” Ruby says as she points to the second floor. “I’ll wait here just in case he’s not sick and you murder him. I can’t go to prison as an accessory. I’m too pretty.”

I get out and head up to his apartment. The building isn’t super-modern, but it’s clean and stylish. The polar opposite of mine.

I reach the top of the stairs and find number four, then take a deep breath before knocking firmly three times.

There’s silence from inside.

I knock again, louder and more insistent. Again there’s nothing, and the little grain of hurt I’ve carried inside me since our fight blossoms into a full-blown ache.

He’s out.

Possibly with another girl.

Possibly having the no-strings-attached orgasms he used to have with me.

I push down my pain.

I’m about to leave, when I hear a noise on the other side of the door. There’s muffled shuffling, then a bang, followed by a whispered, “Fuck!” When I turn back, the door opens a crack to reveal a bleary-eyed and disheveled Holt squinting at me in confusion.

“Taylor?” His voice is hoarse, and so deep it sounds like Barry White on steroids. “What are you doing here?”

An enormous wave of relief washes over me.

“Oh God, Holt, you’re actually sick! Truly, disgustingly sick!”

He frowns and shivers as he leans against the doorframe. “You came all the way down here to gloat? ’Cause honestly, that’s just mean.”

“No, sorry,” I say, composing myself as I take in his greasy hair and sweaty face. “Elissa asked me to come and check in. You weren’t answering your phone, and she was worried.”

He coughs loudly, causing a horrible rattle to echo in his chest.

“It’s just a cold,” he croaks as he leans more heavily against the wall. “I’ll be okay.”

I place my palm against his forehead. He’s burning up, and the dark circles under his eyes make it look like he hasn’t slept in days.

“You’re not okay. You have a fever. Have you taken anything for it?”

“I ran out of Tylenol,” he says, then coughs again. “I think I just need to sleep.”

He closes his eyes and stumbles a little, and I rush to support him. He’s only wearing a thin T-shirt and cotton boxers, and even though he’s clammy and hot to the touch, he’s shivering.

“Come on,” I say, and guide him inside to sit on the couch. “Sit down for a minute.” There’s a blanket on the back of the couch, so I grab it and drape it across his shoulders. He pulls it around himself as he lies down and closes his eyes. His teeth chatter.

“Ethan?”

“Hmmm?” He’s barely awake.

“I’ll be back in a minute, okay? We need supplies.”

He mumbles something unintelligible as I run around his apartment to take a quick inventory of his kitchen and bathroom, before racing downstairs to Ruby, who’s still waiting in the car. I give her a list of things to pick up at the drugstore and ask her to hurry. When I get back to the apartment, Ethan’s where I left him, mumbling and groaning.

His fever is bad. Until Ruby gets back with some Tylenol, I’ll have to try to get his temperature down. I once had to care for my dad when he’d gotten pneumonia while Mom was out of town at a yoga retreat. I knew the procedures pretty well.

“Ethan, can you sit up for me?”

He coughs before struggling into a sitting position. His chest doesn’t sound good.

“I think you have a chest infection. You need to see a doctor.”

“No,” he says in a raspy voice. “The stuff in my throat is green. Bacterial. Doc will just prescribe antibiotics, and I have some in the bathroom, in the cabinet behind the mirror.”

“You have antibiotics just lying around the house?”

“Dad’s a pharmacist.”

“Oh.”

I go to the bathroom and retrieve the pills. I read the label as I head back to Ethan.

“It says here you’re supposed to take these with food. Have you eaten anything today?”

He pulls the blanket around himself and shakes his head. “Stomach doesn’t feel good.”

“Well, Ruby is out getting you some soup, so maybe we’d better wait to take these until she gets back.”

He shivers as he nods. When I press my palm against his forehead, he closes his eyes and leans into my hand.

I press the backs of my fingers to his flushed cheek. “Do you feel strong enough to take a shower? It’ll help cool you down.”

He opens his eyes and looks at me, staring for a moment before whispering, “Cassie, you don’t have to do this.” His voice sounds so husky it makes my eyes water.

“I know, but I want to.”

I hold my hands out and help pull him to his feet. He sways for a few seconds before wrapping his arm around my shoulders. He shivers against me as we slowly walk into his bathroom. I sit him down on the closed toilet before turning on the shower and adjusting the temperature.

When I turn back to him, my heart aches at how miserable he looks. He’s hunched over his knees, breathing heavily and gripping the blanket around his shoulders.

“Come on. This will help you feel better.”

I peel the blanket off and drop it on the floor before tugging his T-shirt over his head. His chest and shoulders are flushed, and when I press my hand against him, he’s burning hot. He wraps his arms around himself. His skin prickles with goose bumps as I coax him into standing.