Then again, if he was, I barely had my eyes open so I might have missed it.
But his hands continued their path down until he got to the top of my tights, and taking a knee, he stripped those down my legs. Just as I was about to try and toe my socks off, still down there, he picked up one of my legs with one hand, and with the other, pulled off the thin socks and bandages I’d put on that morning, dragging the flat of his thumb over the arch before lowering my foot and picking the other one up. He did the same to it, his eyes lingering on my toes if I was seeing correctly, and if I’d had the energy, I would have scrunched up my sparkle pink nail polished toes. The fact that he glanced up at me and smiled, kind of threw me off, but I didn’t let my thoughts linger there. My stomach gave a roll, and I just barely managed not to throw up the breakfast I’d forced down that morning.
Ivan snickered as he gave my heel a squeeze and dropped my foot. “In you go, champ.”
I was dead asleep when something—or someone—hit my forehead. Hard.
Then that something—or someone—hit me three more times, one right after the other. It was the fact that there was a rhythm to it that had me snapping my eyes open.
Someone was knocking on my forehead.
And that someone was Ivan.
Ivan who was leaning over me, his fist held just a couple inches away from my face. He was smirking. At me.
“Wake up, Outbreak monkey. It’s time for your next Tylenol.”
I blinked. Then I looked at the ceiling behind him, trying to remember what the hell was happening. It was then, as I was wondering that, that my head reminded me it was still hurting. Still hurting. I shivered, a reminder that I’d had a fever. More than likely still had one if the tremor that went through my body meant anything.
I was sick. The doctor had said it was a virus. Ivan had driven me there, then afterward, taken me to the pharmacy, where I’d sat in the car, shaking from hot to cold, to buy a bottle of Tylenol because I couldn’t remember how much I had. Then, he’d taken me home. Home to an empty house because my mom and Ben were gone, enjoying the beach and doing fun shit I would love to do.
Instead, I was in my room, under the covers, having my forehead used as a bongo drum by someone who was clearly enjoying it.
“What time is it?” I asked, trying to scoot up toward the headboard while I blinked, just barely noticing how raspy and hoarse my voice sounded. It was even worse than it had been before.
“Time for you to take your Tylenol,” he replied, shaking the fist he’d been using to knock on me.
I groaned and tried to roll to my side so I could go back to sleep, but he grabbed my shoulder and moved me back to lay the way I’d been.
“Two more and then you can go back to sleep,” he tried to compromise with me.
“No.”
Those glacier eyes stayed locked on me, his facial expression still a happier one than I ever would have bet on. His voice though, didn’t sound so playful. “Take the pills, Jasmine.”
I closed my eyes and moaned at how much my back and shoulders ached. “No.”
I could see the sigh he let out in his shoulders. “Take the damn pills. Your fever still hasn’t broken,” he ordered, still holding on to my shoulder because he knew damn well the second I got a chance, I’d try to roll over again. Ugh. Was I that predictable?
“My throat hurts,” I whispered, using that against him.
He sighed again, shaking his fist once more. “I’m not buying you children’s Tylenol. Take the pills.”
I closed one eye and left the other one open as I whispered, “I don’t want to.”
I’d swear on my life, Ivan flashed a smile so quick, it was there and then it was gone. Back to normal. Back to trying to boss me around for my own good. “You need them,” he reminded me.
I just stared at him with my one eye.
“No?”
“No,” I said, just barely loud enough for him to hear.
His jaw twitched, and his gaze narrowed. “Your mom warned me you’re a pain in the ass when you’re sick.”
She would say exactly that, that didn’t surprise me. I was a whiney little bitch when I was sick. It was true. So I didn’t waste my words and throat on agreeing.
What I did wonder was… when the hell had he talked to my mom?
And just as soon as I wondered that, I decided I didn’t give a shit.
Then it hit me. “I forgot to call—”
“Your mom called your boss for you,” he cut me off. “Now take them.”
“No.”
“You want to play this game, we can play this game,” he replied easily, making me suddenly wonder if I was screwing up. He kept going. “You’re going to take them.”
I swallowed and winced at the ache that answered that action.
The blink he gave me put me on edge instantly. Then his words confirmed that tiny worry he’d given me. His voice was low as he said, “You’re going to take them, or I’m going to make you take them.”
Ugh.
“Bitch,” I whispered.
He beamed at me, literally beamed, fully aware that we both knew his threat wasn’t in vain. Not at all. Not even a little bit. “You ready then?”
I opened my mouth, shooting him the nastiest look I was capable of while basically looking like a baby bird, and watched as he moved his hand over my face and dropped the pills into my mouth a moment before handing over a glass of water. Three small sips later, I swallowed the medicine and handed the glass back over. He took it and set it on the nightstand, before turning to me from where he’d been sitting on the edge of my bed the whole time.
“You feeling any better?” he asked.
“Little,” I whispered, because I was. Just a little. My headache wasn’t as bad, and even though I knew I had a fever, I was pretty sure it had to have gone down some. At least that’s what I hoped. I had to get better as soon as possible. That I hadn’t forgotten.
Ivan gave me a microscopic smile, his fingers coming back to touch my forehead with the backs of them, gentle, gentle, gentle. “Your fever has gone down. It was down to 102 when I checked it an hour ago.”
He’d checked it an hour ago? God, I was out of it.
Ivan flipped his hand over and touched my cheek with the tips of those cold fingers. “You want another wet towel for your head?”
“No,” I answered before adding, “thank you.”
That got me another little smile. “You want anything?”
“To feel better.”
“You’ll be better tomorrow,” he said.
“I have to.”
He rolled those bright blue eyes. “No, but you will,” he claimed, scooting his hip further into the bed. “There’s some soup for you downstairs.”
I couldn’t stop the frown from coming onto my face. “You made it?”
“Don’t look at me like I’m trying to poison you. If I wanted to, I would have done it already.” He grazed my forehead with the tip of his finger. “Your brother’s husband brought it over.”
Now that time, I did smile, thinking of sweet, wonderful James. “He makes the best soup.”
“It smelled good. He wanted to see you, but you were sleeping.”
I pulled the top of the comforter up, my muscles protesting that movement alone, but somehow I got it to go up the two inches to reach my chin. “He’s the best.”
That made him blink. “You think somebody’s the best?”
“He is,” I said. “My mom is too. So is my sister, Ruby. My sister Tali when she isn’t having girl problems.” I thought about it and swallowed again. “Lee’s pretty cool. My brothers are too, I guess. Aaron’s great. He can be on the list too.”
Ivan made a noise, then scooted even further into the bed. I watched him and slid to the side to give him more room, wondering what the hell he was doing. His hand landed on the spot over the covers where my elbow was tucked inside, and he asked, almost hesitating, which wasn’t at all like him, “And your dad?”
That’s how crappy I felt that I couldn’t even get mad at the mention of my dad’s name. Or disappointed, which said something too. But I told him the truth. “Not to me.”