Survivor (First to Fight #2)

Donnie grabs my arm, his palm feverish against my skin. “Jack,” he mumbles, his voice broken and scratchy. “Please.”

As much as I want to protest, I can’t stand seeing either of them so miserable. The whole night I’d been up and down with Donnie and checking on Rafe to make sure he didn’t get it as well. I’d literally worried myself sick. I can’t begrudge them anything that will make them feel better. Even if it involves bringing in the last person I could possibly want to see me like this. “Fine,” I tell Ben. “Tell him thanks. I appreciate it.”

He shushes a whining Cole in the background. “Okay,” he says to me. “I’ll call him right now and tell him to hurry. Is there anything else you guys need?”

“No, that’s all. Thanks, Ben. I hope you guys feel better.”

“Hell, me, too. I’ll come by and check on you guys later.”

“Sounds good,” I tell him.

He hangs up and I drop my phone somewhere on the floor. I slip into a drugged half-sleep. When my doorbell rings not even twenty minutes later, I sit up and immediately regret it when my stomach revolts. I forget about the door and run to the bathroom, tip-toeing as quietly as possible so I don’t wake the finally sleeping boys. My head throbs by the time I’m done and I worry about getting back to my feet without passing out.

Heat wraps around my arm and I look down and find a lightly tanned hand wrapped around my elbow. I frown, following the hand to a thickly corded arm encased in a thermal tee. It’s a forest green that I know will match his eyes perfectly. I reach his eye-level and have trouble keeping on my feet. The kind, soulful look I find doesn’t help. It reminds me too much of the easy way things used to be between us.

“I’ve got you,” he says, looping an arm around my waist. “C’mon, let’s get you into bed.”

I can’t help it. It just slips out. “Now that’s a line I’ve heard before.” I slap a hand over my mouth.

Jack grins. “You must be feeling pretty bad, huh, baby?”

I don’t reply for fear that something else equally embarrassing will slip out without my permission. I lean heavily into his side as he guides me back to my room. When he steps in and pauses for a second to look around, I have a little mental panic about having him in my bedroom again.

The boys snore lightly, sprawled across my bed so Jack diverts his aim to my mom’s old room across the hall. Thankfully, I am so exhausted that I can only give freaking out about having him here a passing thought. He helps me onto the bed and glances around the room.

I do the same, spotting the little teddy bear he gave me when he got back from boot camp on my mom’s dresser and my nose burns with tears. I can’t believe she kept it. It’s little Marine utility uniform has seen better days, but it looks exactly like it did the day he gave it to me.

When he pulls back the pastel colored-chevron patterned comforter, I can tell he notices the bear because his hands pause for a second. I bite my lip as he leads me down under the covers. He doesn’t say anything, but I do notice that he looks at me with questions in his eyes.

He flicks the covers over me and I recline back on my pile of pillows. He pauses for a second, his big body entirely too at home being so close to me. Then, he leans down and reaches over me. For a second, my breath catches in my throat. He pulls back with the bear in his hand and a little smile playing on his lips. He tucks the bear in next to me.

I grasp for a different subject before I combust. “How did you get in here?”

Jack sits on the edge of the bed and puts a big hand on my forehead. I manage to catch myself before I lean in to the warmth of his touch. “I still had your spare key. I got your Popsicles. I can’t believe you still have to have those when you’re sick. I think I got the right kind, but it’s been a long time since I’ve had to do your lady shopping at the grocery store.”

“I can’t believe you remember that.”

He assesses me with a small smile. “I remember a lot of things about you,” he says. His intense scrutiny makes me squirm under the covers. “I also got you some sports drinks, crackers, bananas and shit. Livvie had a whole list of things that are supposed to be good for kids when they can’t keep anything down.”

“You didn’t have to do that. The boys just needed something to settle their stomachs. They were able to finally get to sleep and I figured they’d be hungry when they woke up.”

“It’s no big deal.” He shrugs and glances away. “I’ve been here a lot for the boys over the past few years. And the gym has desensitized me to any and all types of bodily fluids.”

Wincing, I clutch a hand to my stomach and try to purge the thought from my mind. “Still.”

“Looks like you aren’t doing too bad on that front either,” he murmurs, nodding towards my old bedroom where the boys’ snores echo.

Frowning, I look back at the doorway to my room and then at him. “What do you mean?”

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