Trust in Me

A sharp set of tingles spread along the back of my neck as I stepped forward. “What do you mean, Avery needs my help?”


“She’s really sick. I think she has the flu,” she explained in a rush. “She hadn’t been returning my calls so I checked in on her and found her passed out in her kitchen and—”

“What?” I brushed past her, heading for Avery’s door. “Did you call an ambulance?”

“No.” Brittany hurried behind me. “It’s just the flu and I need to get her some meds, but I can’t get her into her bed. She’s too heavy. So I was hoping that you could carry her back and maybe . . .”

I really wasn’t listening anymore. My whole focus was on Avery as I entered her apartment. The smell of sickness was strong—too strong—and I could see her denim-clad legs and bare feet.

Darting into the kitchen, I sucked in the sharp breath. Avery was curled on her side, compressed into a fetal position with one cheek plastered to the floor. Dark, sweat-soaked hair clung to the side of her face. Every few seconds, her body would shake and a tiny, breathy moan would come from her. Concern rose swiftly.

Brittany sighed. “I had her sitting up before I left.”

“Are you sure we don’t need an ambulance?” I asked, kneeling down. Carefully, I scooped the strands of damp hair off her face. Her lashes twitched, but her eyes did not open.

“I called my mom—she’s a nurse. She told me Avery should be fine as long as her fever goes down and she gets fluids in her, but I need to get her some meds.”

“I’ll stay with her while you go.”

Brittany said something else, but I didn’t hear it. I was only vaguely aware of Brittany picking up her purse from the back of the couch as I slipped an arm under Avery.

“No,” she moaned, twisting toward the floor feebly. “Cool . . . feels good . . .”

“I know, but you can’t sleep on the floor.” I lifted her up, wincing when her hot cheek landed against my chest. God, she was burning up. I turned, with her in my arms, realizing that Brittany had already left.

Avery mumbled something as she turned her face, but the words were too muffled and too slurred for me to understand.

“It’s okay,” I told her, because I really had no idea what to say. “You’re going to feel better soon.”

She didn’t respond as I carried her back to her bed. When I laid her down, I sat back and got a good look at the shirt she wore. Areas of the damp material clung to her skin. There were patches that were suspicious and made me think of the stench of sickness.

“Shit,” I said.

I looked around the room, finding a pair of pajama bottoms and a sleep shirt folded on her dresser. Taking one look at her, I made up my mind.

Many times over since I’d met Avery, I had imagined undressing her. The very fantasy of doing so had kept me up many nights. I hated to admit that it still did, even though I knew that it would never happen, at least in the way I wanted.

Stripping her of her ruined clothing happened faster than a heart attack and was just as about as fun as one. Especially considering she was mostly unconscious and was nothing more than dead weight.

I didn’t peek. Okay. I might’ve peeked at the pink lacy bra, but it was a brief and totally innocent accident.

Once I had her in fresh clothes, I tucked her legs under the blanket. It was only when I noticed the bracelet did I remember that she didn’t sleep with it on. Wanting her to be comfortable, I slipped it off her wrist and placed it on the nightstand.

I grabbed two wet cloths from the bathroom and ran them under cold water. When I returned, she hadn’t moved, but she sucked in a sharp breath when I pressed the cloth to her forehead.

I don’t know how much time passed, but the first cloth warmed and I replaced it with the second one. Avery turned onto her side, wrapping her arm around mine. It was like she was holding me there, but the girl was in a fevered state and was delusional. She didn’t know what she was doing. Several times, she murmured things I couldn’t understand. At one point, she smiled, and my chest tightened.

“I miss that,” I said hoarsely.

She wiggled closer, and I smoothed the wet towel to her cheek. As the smile faded from her lips, the knots in my chest eased.

Brittany returned, and between the two of us, we coaxed flu meds and water down Avery’s throat. It wasn’t pretty. A sick Avery made for an extremely disagreeable Avery.

“I’m going to open the windows and air out the funk. Clean up the kitchen and stuff.” Brittany hovered by the door. “You don’t have to stay, you know, if you don’t want to.”

I shouldn’t stay. I’d done my good deed for the day, and if Avery woke up and saw me here, she’d probably accuse me of being a creeper. Biting the inside of my cheek as yet another soft whimper reached my ears, I turned to her. Under the rapidly warming cloth, her brow was pinched in discomfort. Her body was still curled toward me and that one arm was still wrapped around mine.

Adjusting the cloth, I knew I wasn’t going anywhere. “I’ll stay.”