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Bad Romeo

Bad Romeo (Starcrossed #1)(83)
Author: Leisa Rayven

“Do you need me to help with your boxers?” I ask and rub his upper arms to keep him warm.

He shakes his head, and it kind of creeps me out that even when he’s as sick as a dog, the sight of him shirtless still does crazy things to me.

“Okay, well, I’ll leave you to it, then. I’ll be right outside. If you get dizzy, just sit down and call to me. I’ll be in here in a second, okay?”

He nods, and I give him a small smile before closing the door behind me.

A few minutes later, there’s a knock on the front door. When I pull it open, Ruby’s there with two bags of supplies. She heads straight into the kitchen and begins unpacking them.

“I got him several types of soup, as well as some bread, because when the fever breaks he’s going to be hella hungry. There’s some pineapple juice to help clear the mucus, and I also got Gatorade for rehydration.”

“Good thinking.”

She finishes unpacking the groceries and moves on to the bag from the drugstore. “There’s Tylenol and Advil, plus a decongestant that will totally knock him out and help him sleep.”

A huge coughing fit echoes down the hallway, and Ruby screws up her face in disgust. “Okay, don’t take this the wrong way, but I have to leave now. Mucus of any kind makes me ralph. You’d better get back to your disgusting patient before he coughs up a lung.”

I laugh and walk her to the door.

“You staying here tonight?” she asks as she steps out into the hallway.

“Yeah, unless he has a miraculous recovery in the next eight hours. That okay?”

“Sure, as long as you don’t molest him in his sleep.”

“Ruby, you act as if I have zero self-control around him.” She stares at me and purses her lips. I glare. “Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You judged me with your eyes. I’m telling them to shut up.”

“Are you going to be able to cope being alone with him overnight?” she asks. “Or do I have to make you a chastity belt out of aluminum foil?”

“Ruby, there are two reasons nothing is going to happen between us. One, he’s really sick and, yes, disgusting.” I neglect to mention that I would still totally do him. “And two, I’ve drawn a line in the sand as far as our relationship goes, and until he’s willing to own up to his feelings toward me, I don’t intend to cross it. I do have some pride, you know.”

“Yeah, but not much.”

“Again, shut up.”

She hugs me, and I can feel her smiling against my shoulder.

“Could you call Elissa?” I ask. “Let her know what’s going on?”

“Sure. Talk to you tomorrow.”

After she leaves, I head back into Holt’s bedroom. I knock on the bathroom door before opening it a crack.

“Hey, you okay in there?”

There’s a pause and a wet cough. “Yeah. What I’m coughing up looks like something out of a horror movie, but the steam is loosening up my chest a bit.” He’s losing his voice, but I guess it’s to be expected after the amount of coughing he’s just done.

“Want to get out?”

“Soon. Give me a minute.”

I don’t mean to, but I glance through the door and inhale sharply when I see his naked back. His shoulders are straining as he leans his forearms on the wall.

Oh, God.

Naked Holt.

Naked and wet.

I look down to his very fine ass.

God help me.

Oh, yeah, Ruby, I’ll be fine with him overnight. I can control myself. Sure.

I can’t drag myself away from the water sluicing over his muscles. “Idiot.”

He turns his head. “Did you say something?”

“Nope. Just talking to myself.” While ogling your incredible ass.

I quickly look away and train my focus on his bed. The sheets are twisted and crumpled, and look kind of damp.

I close the door and set about stripping them. While I remake the bed, I try really hard to not think about the glory of his back, legs, and ass, and how they might look sprawled out on the fresh sheets.

As I work, I look around his room. It’s messy but not in a gross way. There are haphazard piles of books and DVDs on his desk, as well as a mess of paper and his laptop, and there’s a sprawl of video games on the floor near the latest Xbox. Other than that, it’s pretty clean and dust free. Not the worst boy’s room I’ve ever seen.

I grab a fresh T-shirt from his dresser and am in the middle of spending way too long in his underwear drawer when the shower turns off. With more than a little guilt, I grab the nearest pair of boxers and shut the drawer.

When I hear the bathroom door swing open, I turn to find Holt wearing only a towel, a halo of steam emerging from behind him.

I’m internally horrified as a Beyoncé song starts playing in my head and everything goes into slow motion. Water droplets glisten on his muscles, and I feel my mouth drop open as I watch one travel from his clavicle all the way down to his belly button.

Goddamn. Gorgeous.

“Hey,” he says, his voice almost completely gone.

“Hey!” I snap out of my daydream and wave the fresh clothes at him a little too enthusiastically. “These are for you. How was your shower? You’re still wet. You should dry yourself. Not with the towel around your waist of course, because then you’d be naked and … well, you can use that towel if you like. I mean, it’s your bedroom, and if you want to be naked you can. I could watch—I mean, leave. If you want to be alone and naked, I could wait in the living room. Or go for a walk. Whatever you like.”

He laughs, or at least I think he does, because he’s so wheezy he sounds like a cartoon character. “Taylor, stop talking.”

“Sure.”

“Give me my clothes.”

I hand them over, and he goes back into the bathroom and shuts the door.

Flopping down onto the bed, I put my head in my hands and sigh. My overwhelming attraction to him, even when he’s a virtual cornucopia of mucus-producing bacteria, is beyond appalling.

The bathroom door opens, and he walks over to me, his hair much drier and his body less naked.

I stand and touch his forehead. “You feel a bit cooler.”

“Yeah? Good.”

He stares at me for a second, and I’m reminded that if I want to stay away from him, he really shouldn’t be allowed to look at me like that.

“Get into bed,” I say, my voice breathier than I intend.

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