Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 81176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
“Guess he liked you helping me dry off.”
When I glanced back up at her, she was biting down on her lower lip. If I hadn’t been so goddamn weak, flu be damned…I would have pulled her to me and sucked that lip out from her teeth.
Clare’s eyes slowly moved from my dick to my face. “Very impressive, Mr. Ward.”
I couldn’t help but laugh.
“Come on, let’s get you dressed.”
Clare was going to make a wonderful mother. She had me dressed, fuzzy socks and all, and back on the sofa after I insisted I didn’t want to be in bed. For the next forty-eight hours, Clare stayed and nursed me back to health. She even insisted on curling up in the chair in the living room and sleeping so she could be close by if I needed anything. She left once, to run home and pack an overnight bag with some things. The rest of the time she fed me, took my temperature, gave me medicine, and watched movies with me. And the entire time, even though I was sicker than I’d ever been before, everything felt so fucking perfect. I felt so at ease with her. We could talk about anything and everything. While I slept, she read. While I was awake, complaining about a sore throat or stuffy nose, she was right there to listen. I knew I was being a big pussy, but a part of me really liked having her there.
The sound of someone knocking on my door caused me to open my eyes. It was the first time in days I felt like a human. I wasn’t sweating or shaking. My head wasn’t pounding, and my throat wasn’t sore. My body still ached, but not nearly as bad.
“How is he?” my mother asked in a hushed tone.
“His fever finally broke earlier this morning. I was honestly getting worried. He’s been eating really good though.”
“Feed a fever they say!” Mom said as I heard her put something on the counter. “Rory told me you’ve been here for the last two days, Clare. That is so sweet of you.”
“Well, that’s what friends are for.”
“That’s all you are? Just friends?”
Clare paused for the longest moment, and I couldn’t help but wonder if she was trying to decide what to say.
“Just friends.”
“Oh, well, I’m glad Wes has friends like you who care about him.”
I closed my eyes and internally groaned. I could hear the disappointment in my mother’s voice. She’d be back to setting me up the moment I was up and walking around.
“Has he been sleeping for long?” Mom asked.
“Um, maybe about an hour or so.”
I could hear walking. “I shouldn’t wake him up, but I want to see how he is feeling.”
“I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if you woke him,” Clare stated. “If you would like for me to leave while you visit. I mean, now that his fever is broken, I should be heading home. He’s probably sick of me babysitting him.”
Mom laughed. “Oh please. Wes was always the worst when it came to being sick. The way that boy would complain and whine and say things like, ‘Mom, I need soup’, Mom, I need back rubs.’”
Clare giggled.
I stretched and let out a small sound to let them know I was waking up. When I opened my eyes, I nearly screamed because my mother was right in my face.
“Weston, how are you feeling?”
Looking past my mother, I saw Clare. She mouthed, “Weston?” at me before covering her smile with her hand.
“I’m feeling fine,” I said as I sat up.
Cupping my face, Mom studied me before putting her cheek to my forehead. “Clare’s right. Your fever is broken. I’m so sorry I wasn’t here for you. You texted me you were feeling better. Rory was the one who told me Clare was here taking care of you.”
My gaze moved back to Clare who was folding a blanket she had been using earlier when she was reading a book.
“Clare kept me fed.”
“She is my new favorite person for taking care of my boy.”
I laughed. “I’m not a boy.”
“You will always be my boy, young man.” Clare just smiled over at me. While mom went on and on about Thanksgiving and everything I missed, I watched Clare straightening everything up. She made her way into the guest bathroom and came out with a small bag and put it in the overnight bag she had brought back with her when she went to her place.
Knowing she was going to be leaving left me with a weird emptiness in my chest.
“I’m going to go ahead and head on out. There is a chicken spaghetti casserole in the refrigerator. All you need to do is heat it up, Wes.”
Standing, I walked toward Clare who was standing near the front door. “You don’t have to leave.”