But Kat cackled loudly, which was my best reward. “You owe me one, junior,” she said to him when I was almost out of earshot.

With a grin that almost helped me forget that the rest of me was falling apart, I left play testing and returned to my office in time for a scheduled phone conference, which I barely lasted through.

Maybe Emilia was right. Maybe the abuse I’d been wreaking on my body lately was catching up with me. I made a special note to try to get to bed early tonight. Her shock alone from that might even be worth it.

 

 

Chapter 10

Mia

It was another late day with my virology lab and then my infectious diseases study group. Good god, M2 was a barrel of fun.

And though I wouldn’t be home until well after nine, I knew I’d likely beat the significant other there by hours. He always stayed late at the office after being out of town.

As my medical school schedule had ramped up, he’d taken it as an unspoken cue to go back to his workaholic ways. Our time together suffered greatly as a consequence.

On my way to the bedroom, I stopped by my study to dump my books and check my email. A reply from my brother awaited me. It still seemed weird to use that term—my brother. I read through it immediately, but hesitated before replying.

He wanted to meet. Part of me really wanted to, and the other part was way too scared.

Maybe if Adam came with me. Or my mom.

Or both.

It was ridiculous, because he was only a man. What was I scared of? I’d have to think it through, and I was way too tired tonight. I flipped on the light and almost jumped out of my skin when I noticed Adam in bed. Asleep.

What the…?

I checked the clock—a few minutes after ten p.m. He never went to bed this early. What was up?

Quickly, I flipped the lights off again before they would wake him. Then I spent the next half-hour tiptoeing around the room, bumping into things in the dark and swearing under my breath as I got ready for bed.

Finally, feeling as exhausted as he probably did, I skipped my usual bedtime studying to snuggle up beside him and fall asleep early, too. Adam had gone to bed without a shirt on, only sleeping in his underwear. If I wasn’t half dead myself, I might have been tempted to wake him up for a booty call.

Instead, I rolled over and was out like a light. Only to be awakened a few hours later by his tossing and turning. He was still fast asleep, but he’d kicked the sheet and blanket off and was shivering.

Half-asleep myself, I reached over, grabbed the sheet from where it was tangled in with his legs, and dragged it up over him again. My hand brushed his arm, and I froze.

He was burning up.

Like feverishly hot.

I placed the back of my hand against his forehead, and he jerked away, moaning, still fast asleep.

“Adam,” I said quietly, and he didn’t move. So I got out of bed and headed straight for the medicine cabinet in the bathroom, where I grabbed the fancy ear thermometer. I doubted there was even one of these in the house before I had gotten sick. As a typical bachelor with uncommonly good health, Adam had likely never thought to equip his home with first-aid supplies. Naturally, I had taken care of that for him.

I ran the digital thermometer through a quick test to see if the batteries were working, then returned to the bedroom.

Adam was now on his side, still shivering. “Adam, I need to take your temp.”

His only reply was incoherent mumbling, so I bent over and stuck the damn thermometer in his ear. He batted my hand away—and not gently. I took hold of his shoulder and shook him, once again noting the heat coming off his skin.

“Adam, wake up.”

Slowly, his eyes cracked open. When he saw me standing over him with a medical device in my hand, he shot straight up to a sitting position.

“What?” he barked.

“You’re burning up.” I indicated the thermometer in my hand. “I need to take your temperature.”

He rubbed his forehead. “I’m fine.”

But even with that short outburst, I observed how his voice sounded different, hoarse, a little thick. As if his throat was bothering him.

“You have a virus or something. I’m not making this up. You’re feverish. Let me stick this in your ear.”

He took the thermometer and moved it—and my hand—as far away from his head as he could. “You don’t stick things in me. It’s supposed to be the other way around.”

“Don’t be a smartass.” I let out a long-suffering sigh and replaced the thermometer near his face. It just figured that Adam would be a patient from hell. How could I even imagine otherwise?

“Adam, you were shivering, and your teeth were chattering. Now, unless you want me to stand over you like this all night till you fall asleep again, let me take your goddamn temperature.”

“Okay, okay,” he said. “As long as you promise to leave me alone if it’s normal.” I bent down and pushed it into his ear. “Ouch. I still need that eardrum.”

“Don’t be a baby.”

A few seconds later, the thermometer beeped. Pulling it out, I read the digital screen—only to almost drop it again in shock. “Holy shit!”

“What?”

“Your temperature is 103.4. That’s way too high. You’ve got a virus or an infection.”

He groaned loudly. “I don’t have time to have a virus.”

“You don’t have any say in the matter.”

He reclined against his pillow, his hair damp from perspiration. “Jesus. I feel like shit.”

“And you have all day, haven’t you? That’s why you were in bed so early. I should have known then.” I set the thermometer on his night table. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

“I can guarantee that I’m not going anywhere.” With eyes closed, he rubbed his forehead.

I went to the medicine cabinet and grabbed the bottle of acetaminophen and, from an upstairs cupboard, a bottle of water.

Adam wasn’t in the bed when I returned, but soon appeared from the bathroom.

“Did you vomit?”

“No. I peed.”

I shoved two pills and the bottle at him. “Here. Take this now. And if your temp is not down in thirty minutes, we are taking a trip to the ER.”

He scowled, took the pills and the bottle, and downed them. “I’m not going to the ER.”

“You are if I say you are.” I pointed to the bed. “You are running a very dangerous temp. Now, do you feel like taking a tepid shower, or can I run a wet towel over you?”