“Huh?”
“You were spacing out a little. Are you dizzy again?”
“No, no,” I said, shaking my head, feeling a little busted. “Just tired is all. I should get ready for bed. There should be some toothbrushes in the nightstand.”
“Wow, you thought of everything, didn’t you?”
“Oh, and I’ll get you something to sleep in.”
“A T-shirt works… It’s, uh… It’s a little warm in here.”
“Oh shit, I forgot I cranked up the thermostat! You must be boiling!”
“It’s okay, really. My parents like it warm, too, I’m used to it.”
“It’s the fever. I don’t normally keep my place at eighty degrees.”
“Oh thank God.” She laughed, placing a hand over her heart. “This is my first time here, so I didn’t know.”
“Next time I promise everything will be back to normal.”
She shook her head. “Stop it. I love your place. Now get your ass to bed.”
With a sigh of relief, I walked out of the room, looking behind me to look at her face just one last time before going to bed.
That face has me in so much trouble.
“Got it, boss.”
“Sleep well, Dev.”
I expected to toss and turn, knowing that Lyra was just on the other side of the wall, but the exhaustion from my sickness helped me drift into a dreamless sleep, still bundled up in my sweats and covered in as many blankets as I could find the night before.
I woke up drenched in sweat and feeling like I was trapped in a sauna. My fever must have broken overnight.
Thank God.
Throwing the thick layers of covers off me, I climbed out of bed and ripped off my sweatshirt before unlocking the window and throwing it open, feeling the bitter cold air cool my sweltering skin.
“Oh thank God,” I said. I opened the other window for good measure. I sighed as it slammed into the frame. When I heard movement in the room next to me, I grimaced, realizing I’d woken Lyra. Seconds later, there was a soft knock at the door.
“Dev, everything okay?” She was wearing one of my Game of Thrones T-shirts and a pair of boxers. Her thick hair was up in a loose bun, and even though she had bags under her eyes, I’d never seen her look so sexy. If I wasn’t sick as a dog, I’d pounce on her right then and there.
“Yeah, come in, sorry.”
“Oh my God, what are you doing?” She stared at the open windows, the curtains flying back frantically from the winter air.
“Sorry, woke up a sweaty mess; just trying to cool down.”
“Oh thank God. I thought maybe you were having a fever dream.”
“What, did you think I was gonna jump out?” I asked, laughing at the absurdity of that possibility.
“Maybe. I mean, I don’t know. It’s late,” she said, looking a little embarrassed. She turned, looking at my empty bed, and now it was her turn to laugh as she looked at the man-shaped shadow of sweat on my sheets. “Holy shit, you weren’t kidding. I don’t think I’ve ever seen that much sweat in my life.”
“What can I say? I’m a man among men.”
“Do you have a spare set of sheets? You can’t sleep in that.”
“Good point. Yeah, in the hall closet. I’ll be right back.”
“Don’t be silly. Change your clothes. I’ll use the bathroom and I’ll grab the sheets on my way back.”
“Thanks,” I said, pulling my wet T-shirt away from my skin. “I could use a new shirt.”
Lyra smiled and left the room. I walked to my dresser and pulled out a new T-shirt and pair of boxers, tossing my drenched clothes into the hamper. Lyra returned just as I was stripping the sheets from the bed.
“You probably won’t need all these blankets anymore, huh?”
“Yeah, even with the cold air pouring in, I still feel like I can’t cool down.”
“That’s good. Your body was a little oven while you slept. You should feel so much better tomorrow.”
“I already do,” I said, realizing that my congestion wasn’t nearly as bad as it was earlier that evening and my body didn’t ache nearly as much. My body was fighting the bug, and I was recovering.
Minutes later, the bed was made, but I realized I had no desire to go back to sleep. “Thanks for helping me with this. Sorry I woke you.”
“Nah, I was already up. I was reading.”
“Jane Austen.”
“No,” she said, rolling her eyes. “If you must know, I was reading Wuthering Heights.”
“Oh, that’s the one with the dude named Heathcliff, right? I think I read that in high school.”
“It’s one of my favorites.”
“That’s a dark book… What would Jane think of you reading something so scandalous?” I gasped, placing my fingers between my teeth and pretending to bite down on them.
“Sometimes I don’t think you should be allowed to speak,” she said, glaring at me. As much as I loved Lyra’s smile, part of me preferred her glare, her fire, her sizzle. “But on the bright side, you’re clearly feeling better.”
“Indeed I am. Want some coffee?”
“Yeah, I saw you have a shop downstairs.”
“Part of the reason I chose this place.”
“I’ll grab us some.”
“Let me get dressed, I’ll come with you.”
“No, crazy man. You still need to rest.”
“Geez, you’re strict. Really, I’m feeling a lot better today. Your loving care healed me,” I said dramatically, batting my eyelashes.
“You’re such a pain in my ass.”
“You love it,” I teased.
Her cheeks grew pink. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Shut up and take a hot shower. I’ll be back in a bit.”
There’s nothing quite like a hot shower when you’re not feeling well. It almost feels like this strange rebirth, like you’re washing away the sickness and getting back to being you. That was exactly how I felt after spending ten minutes under the hot steam before changing into comfy flannel pants and a Rolling Stones T-shirt. When I finally emerged from my bedroom, I was happy to see Lyra dancing around my kitchen.
Literally.
With her phone perched on my counter, she was shaking her hips and singing to herself as she held a spatula in her hand, staring down at the pan on the stove.
“Country music, huh?”
Startled, she jumped just a bit at my voice. “Keith Urban. He just makes me happy…and his songs remind me of college. I’m making you some eggs and toast; hope that sounds good.”
“Hell yeah. After having your khichdi, I can’t wait to try your eggs.” I plopped myself on a barstool and placed my elbows on the breakfast bar. “Go back to dancing. I’m sorry I interrupted.”
She waved me away with the spatula. “I dance when I cook.”
“Don’t let me stop you,” I said with a wink as she placed my coffee cup on the placemat in front of me. “I’m just enjoying the view.”
“Ugh, I’m a mess,” she said. “My hair’s like a freaking nest, and I have zero makeup on.”