With her name on my lips, I dig my thumbs into her skin, driving into her. Cami rides me until we’re close to the edge, then soon we’re spilling over.
“Four,” she screams out as we both chase our high. She runs her fingernails down my rib cage and mixes pleasure with pain. Cami paints her mouth across mine while we’re still connected, fully satiated.
“One more to go,” I tell her with a smug smile.
“I’m numb from the waist down.”
“Then you better hold on.” Swiftly, I grab her waist and flip her on her back, then rub my fingers over her clit. It’s swollen, and I can tell it’s sensitive.
“Holy shit,” Cami mutters as her eyes roll to the back of her head. It’s only another couple of minutes until she’s digging her nails in my arm and exploding in relief.
After cleaning up for the second time, I fall asleep with a smile on my face and Cami in my arms.
I’ve imagined what it would be like being with her, but none of those fantasies even compare to reality.
Not in a million fucking years.
Chapter Nineteen
CAMERON
DAY 15
I wake up with sweat covering my forehead, and my body feels like it might be on fire. Eli’s legs tangle with mine, and I try to wiggle out of his hold. Drinking too much last night has made me feel like shit. As soon as I sit up, I know something isn’t right. It’s not the first time I’ve had stupid amounts of alcohol, but this seems different. I wobble when I place my feet on the floor, and I find some strength to move forward. My chest is tight, and I wonder if I slept weird or if our sexual activities last night did a number on me, but I’ve never felt this way before. On repeat, I tell myself I’m just hungover. That’s all this is.
I walk to the bathroom and slip on a robe when I start shivering and coughing.
“Cami,” Eli mumbles from the bed in a sexy morning rasp.
“In here,” I respond. My voice sounds different, and it burns when I swallow. “In the bathroom,” I say louder, but my throat is scratchy, which isn’t typical for me after a night of drinking.
Footsteps lightly sweep across the floor, and he opens the door wearing loose hanging sweatpants and notices me leaning over the sink. When I meet his eyes, they go wide.
“Are you okay?” he asks, concern coating his tone.
I choke down my fear of being sick and push my hair out of my face. “I think I drank too much.”
“Do you have a fever?” he asks.
I bring my palm to my forehead and shrug.
“Where’s your thermometer? We need to check your temp.”
I point at the cabinet between us. He comes closer, grabs it, then hands it to me. I look down at the digital stick in my hand, turn it on, and place it under my tongue. Moments later, it beeps, and when I see the result, I want to cry.
“What does it say?” Eli searches my face, but he knows by my expression that it’s not good news.
I create distance as tears build in my eyes. I shake my head, trying to comprehend what this means.
“Cami? What’s it say?” he repeats, his voice deep and cautious. He knows something’s wrong. We both do.
I look over at him, and when he steps toward me, I hold out my hand to stop him from coming any closer. “It’s 101.6. Stay back, please. If I’m sick, you’re at a higher risk of hospitalization if you catch it.”
Those aren’t the words I want to say after the amazing night we shared. Images of his mouth and hands on my body flash through my head, and I replay all the times we kissed. If Eli gets it from me, it could kill him, and I wouldn’t be able to live with myself. We’ve been isolated together for two weeks, which means I’ve been a carrier since I arrived.
Disregarding my pleas, he takes two steps forward. His voice softens. “No, let me take care of you.”
“Please,” I beg again. “Being near me is too dangerous with your asthma,” I remind him. The episode he had a week ago is still fresh in my mind. It was traumatizing to watch him struggle to breathe.
“You don’t know what you have, though. It could be anything. It’s flu season, too.” He tries to calm me, but it doesn’t work. My gut screams that I’m not that lucky, and that this isn’t something I’ll get over in a few days. I was around hundreds of people before the shelter in place was ordered. People who were asymptomatic continued going to class because no one knew how bad it was until it was too late.
“A fever this high is enough warning. For your sake, we have to treat it like the worst-case scenario to be on the safe side.” I choke back a sob, then turn on the faucet, holding a washcloth under the cool stream. “I’ll be okay,” I say more to comfort myself than him. Eli stares as I wring out the water.
“If you really have it, then so do I. It’s a little too late to think I haven’t caught it.” He shrugs as if it’s no big deal. “We kissed on the second day here and have been around each other every day since then. We’d be foolish to think otherwise.”
I relentlessly shake my head in disagreement. “No, that’s not one hundred percent true. We don’t know, so we have to take every precaution possible.”
“I’ll text your brother and see if he has any advice so we can be more prepared in the coming days. He might have a few tips and tricks or something, but let me help you, Cami.” He’s nearly begging, and I’m not sure I’m strong enough to push him away when I just want him to hold me.
“Eli,” I whisper. Panic and unease swim through my veins as my chest rattles. The morning after such an amazing night isn’t supposed to be like this. I wish we could have breakfast together, spend the rest of the day snuggling, and relive last night. Instead, I have to force him to leave me alone.
He exits the bathroom, and for a second, I think I may have gotten through to him. Moments later, he returns with Tylenol and two bottles of water. He sets them on the nightstand and glances at me. “You can’t get dehydrated. Take these and text me if you need anything, okay? Anything at all, even if it’s just to keep you company. And if you get any worse, let me know.”
I nod, wanting to lie down and cover myself with a pile of blankets. “I will. Thank you.”
Once he’s out of the room, I grab the thermometer and place it on the bedside table, then take the pills. The sheets are a crumpled mess at the end of the bed from rassling in them last night, and I try to fix them the best I can, but my head is too heavy. I’m scared of what the future holds, more than I’ve ever been before. I know Eli said he’d text Ryan, but I text him too.
Cameron: I think I have the virus. What should I do?
I don’t expect him to answer me anytime soon. Having a conversation with him the past couple of weeks has been difficult. My brother’s a goddamn hero, but I selfishly wish he were here with me.
Somehow, even though I’m restless, I fall asleep. My skin sticks to the sheets, but I’m cold, so I stay covered. Fever dreams capture me, and I wake up in a panic with a racing heart. I should let my parents know what’s going on, but I also don’t want to worry them. My mother gets irrational when it comes to her children. Considering my brother is on the front lines of this war against the illness, she’s got enough on her emotional plate to deal with. But if I end up hospitalized, the guilt of not speaking up would consume me. Before I call, I take my temperature again. As I suspected, it hasn’t changed.