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Page 79
Page 79
“You told Willa I was throwing up?”
“She’s in the kitchen making you soup for tomorrow when you feel better. Elle’s bringing her a few ingredients she didn’t have.”
Pru managed a moan. “I don’t want anyone to see me like this.”
“You do realize that friends don’t actually care what you look like,” he said. “Take a sip, Pru.”
She shook her head. She couldn’t possibly swallow anything.
“Just a sip. Trust me, it’ll help.”
She did trust him. But drinking anything was going to be a disaster of major proportions.
He was moving her, using his shoulder to hold her head forward. It was take a sip or drown.
She took a sip.
“Good girl,” he whispered and let her settle back against him. They sat there, silent, for what seemed like days. Her stomach slowly stopped doing backflips.
“How do you feel?” he asked after a while.
She had no idea.
When she didn’t enlighten him, he took the washcloth from her neck, refolded it, and put it against her forehead.
“Eddie,” she croaked. “He might be sick too—”
“I’ve got him covered. Spence is with him but the old guy’s got a stomach of iron and doesn’t appear to be affected.
She managed a nod, eyes still closed. She must have drifted off then because when she opened her eyes again the light was different in the bathroom, like some time had gone by.
Finn was still on the floor with her, only he was shirtless now, wearing just his jeans.
Oh yeah. She remembered now. She’d thrown up a bunch more times. She had her hands curled around his neck, clutching him like he was her only lifeline.
And he was. She stared at his chest. She couldn’t stop herself. No matter how many times she saw his stomach, she wanted to lick it each time.
Not that she wanted to stop there either.
Nope, she wanted to lick upward to his neck and then trail back down. She wanted to drop to her knees and slowly ease his jeans over his hips and—
“You okay?” he asked. “You just moaned.”
Huh. Maybe she really was going to live. She dragged her back to his. His hair was tousled, his jaw beyond a five o’clock shadow, but he still looked hot.
She hated him. “You should go,” she said knowing he either had to work or sleep.
He shook his head and brushed his lips over her forehead at the hairline. “It’s been a couple of hours since you last got sick,” he said. “Sip some more water.”
Her stomach was much calmer now, but her head was beating to its own drum. She could feel it pulsating.
“You’re dehydrated,” he said. “You need the water to get rid of the fever and headache.”
Too achy to argue, she nodded. She managed to take a few sips and then her body took over, demanding more.
“Careful,” Finn warned, pulling it away when she started to gulp it. “Let’s see how that settles first.”
“Thor?”
“He’s right here, sleeping on my feet. You want him?”
Yes. But she was in bad enough shape to hug him too tight and the last time she’d done that, he’d gotten scared and bit her. She’d stick with just Finn for now. She was pretty sure Finn only bit when naked. Or on really special occasions.
She fell asleep on him again and woke up much later in her own bed. Willa was helping her change.
“That man is gone over you,” Willa murmured, tucking Pru into bed.
“It’s the damn fountain.” Pru had to hold her head on, keeping her eyes shut even when Willa had paused.
“Fountain?” she asked.
Maybe if Pru hadn’t been dying, she wouldn’t have answered. “I wished,” she said. “I wished for Finn to find love, but the fountain got it all wrong and gave me love instead. Stupid fountain. He’s the one who deserves it.”
“Honey,” Willa said softly. “We all deserve love.”
Pru wanted that to be true. God, how she wanted that . . .
“And how do you know the fountain didn’t get it right?” Willa asked. “Maybe you’re his true love.”
Pru drifted off on that terrifying thought.
“You’re going to want to sip some of this.”
It was Elle. She sat on the bed at Pru’s hip and offered a mug.
“What is it?” Pru asked.
“Only the best tea on the planet. Try it.”
“I’m not thirsty—”
“Try it,” Elle said again finally. “You’re nearly translucent, you need fluids.”