Round 18

A few more things ended up taking a few more hours, and now I was sitting in Neema’s car, very unhappily sipping coffee.

Neema gulped down the last of hers as she reached a red light. “I can’t believe she wants to meet this early. But at least we’ll get to tick off a whole bunch of wedding things today.”

The thought of seeing all our planning come to life for their wedding was enough to shake me awake. When I looked over, her smile reflected mine.

Taylor’s Tailor was a small, neat place Neema had heard of through one of her colleagues. An older woman wearing a dark green skirt and a floral blouse came out and welcomed us. A measuring tape was twirled around her neck in a way that was certainly a choking hazard.

We’d barely set foot into the space when she pulled me away and started measuring. Wrapping her tape along my arms, my legs, my waist, and even my head.

Shaun stumbled inside, red-faced and a little disheveled. “Sorry for being late. William’s down with food poisoning or something, and I spent the morning trying to convince him through the bathroom door to call a doctor.”

“Is he okay?” I asked before Neema could, and I tried to ignore the way her eyes cut in my direction after she walked into Shaun’s arms.

“Uhh.” Shaun hesitated. “I think so? I don’t know. William holes himself up when he’s ill.” Shaun shrugged, but his brows were still drawn close.

The tailor dragged Shaun off and started measuring him while he rambled to her about how his brother being sick meant he wasn’t coming.

My stomach tightened.

Food poisoning. I’ve had it. Everyone’s had it. It’s just food poisoning.

I took out my phone and shot William a text to check in, but it wasn’t delivered. His phone must be off. The strange tension in my stomach curled tighter. I turned away and drummed my fingers on the table beside me.

Without intending to, my brain noticed the numbers on the tailor’s notebook. Aside from my head, all my measurements were larger than when I’d sewn my last Comic-Con costume. Sticky discomfort crawled down my spine. I’d always been happy in my own skin, but right now my sleep-deprived brain was struggling.

Maybe that was why Patrick had lost interest.

“So, we need to pick our own fabric and come back here. Then we can grab lunch, get to the florist, the baker, and the graphic designer.” Neema shimmied, her eyes sparkling before landing on me and then dimming with concern. “What’s wrong?”

Still reeling from my thoughts, I shook my head. “Nothing. I’m tired. I was up all night, remember?”

“Yeah, I know. But you look upset.” She led me outside toward the car and whispered before Shaun caught up to us. “So, you still have no idea what Patrick wants?”

Discomfort soared through me. “Nope, and something tells me my mom wanted to give me a warning. As chaotic as she is, she rarely slips up when it comes to secrets.”

Neema and I released the same long exhale.

Shaun reached us and offered Neema a soft smile.

“Uhm… maybe I’ll skip the fabric store and check on William then join you later?” he said. “Or could we reschedule? I don’t want to miss anything but—”

Shaun’s concern seeped into me, and before I could stop myself, I said, “I’ll check on him.”

Two sets of shocked and confused eyes focused on me.

I shrugged. “We’re done here, which is all I really needed to be present for.”

“But you planned all of this,” Neema said.

“For you.” I grinned. “You both need to be here, and rescheduling this is a nightmare.”

That wasn’t the only reason, but I’d seen the confusion in Shaun’s eyes with a hint of unease. I hated lying to them, but telling either of them about whatever William and I were doing before the wedding was a disaster waiting to happen—much like William and myself, I supposed.

But it was too late to stop. And he was sick. This was innocent. Mostly.

This wasn’t Round 1 or Round 2 of our game. I didn’t know what it was. But I knew I wanted to see him.

Neema squeezed my arm and tossed her keys to me.

I gave them my best smile. “Text me everything. I want photos, updates, selfies, and voice messages.” I kept rambling until they both chuckled and I was in the car and on the way to William, following the pull in my stomach leading me there.

After a quick stop at home, I went to their apartment and knocked on the door. Only silence. I went through Neema’s keys and found the spare Shaun had given her. Barging in wasn’t something I was comfortable with, but what if William was unable to walk?

I unlocked the door and cracked it open. “William? I’m coming in.”

A shifting sound came from William’s bedroom. I dropped my things and closed the front door behind me.

His bedroom door cracked open. “Rose?” he said. His face was unusually pale and sweat glistened on his straight nose. His dark eyes lost focus as they reached mine. “Rose? What are you doing here?”

He leaned his head against the doorframe, looking like he might pass out.

“You need to lie down,” I said, leading him back to where he’d come from.

I sat on the edge of his bed and brushed his damp hair out of his face. His eyes closed as I touched him, and he released a soft breath.

“Have you called a doctor yet?”

“No doctor.” His lips pressed together, and his hand shot to his stomach.

“Is it cramping?”

He nodded, looking smaller than I’d ever seen him. “I don’t want to throw up again. Been throwing up all night, and I really, really don’t want to throw up in front of you. It doesn’t go well with my sexy, mysterious persona.”

I bit back a smile, happy he still had his priorities straight. “Luckily for you, I am well trained in dealing with food poisoning and rarely having access to a doctor.” I took out a bean bag, which was one of the things I’d stopped at home for.

William frowned at me in question.

“Because of how much we traveled and the middle-of-nowhere places we ended up in, there were plenty of times my stomach did not agree with what we were eating, and we treated it wherever we were, sometimes with the help of the locals. Other times, I thought I may die or lose a parent.” I shut my eyes. “Sorry, I didn’t mean…”

He smiled a gentle, weak smile that had my free hand trailing up to touch the dip of his now-shallow dimple.

“You had a strange childhood,” he whispered.

His hot hand slid into mine, and I tangled our fingers, my heart softening in a way I hadn’t expected. I squeezed lightly before releasing him. “I’ll be right back.”

He swallowed hard, shut his eyes, and whispered as I left his bedroom, “This is kind of like a dream I’ve had.”

I heated the bean bag in the kitchen and prepared an electrolyte mixture using the strange unlabeled sachet my mom had sent me.

When I got back, William was curled up, and my heart sprung from my chest at his unease. I unfurled him and helped him sit before lifting the hem of his shirt and placing the bean bag on his stomach. I averted my gaze, trying not to stare at how even more defined he was than I’d expected.

He noticed and chuckled.

I handed him the drink, which he eyed through narrow slits.

“Trust me on this.” I brushed his hair away from his face again—more for myself than for him, if I was honest. I wanted to touch him, not because of all the general reasons I had been wanting to touch him, but for a different reason. Something new and strange blossomed in my chest. Something that shouldn’t be blooming for William. But he looked so soft, vulnerable, and open. So unlike the William I was used to.

I shook off the strange feeling that was consuming me. I was simply taking care of a friend. I’d do it for Shaun, I’d do it for Neema, I’d do it for Claire and even Lincoln, if he’d let me. It was no different with William.

But that was a lie.

Everything was different with William.

“You don’t have to be here,” he said, after taking the first sip and grimacing.

“Is the drink so bad you’d rather send me away?”

He laughed again, and my heart skipped.

“No.” He took another sip. “But what about the wedding stuff? Shaun won’t be too pleased you’re here… for various reasons.”

“I didn’t ask for his permission.” I sat beside William with my back against the headboard and our arms pressing together. “And… I want to be here. Do you want me here?”

“I do,” he said without any hesitation.

I turned my head and kissed his ear. “Consider this payback for the ankle. We’re even.”

He melted into it and then gulped the last bit of the drink before leaning his head against mine. Heat radiated from him.

I slid my hand up to his jaw to support his head before placing my lips on his forehead. “You’re hot.”

“Thanks, so are you.”

I giggled. If life was a game, William never stopped playing.

I propped him up with as many pillows as I could find before slipping into the kitchen and fetching a cloth and some cool water. When I returned, his eyes were closed. One of my most hated memories was waking up to a cold, wet cloth against my fever-ridden body. I took one long look at him, enjoying the slow rise of his chest and the touch of color returning to his cheeks.

I placed the bowl of cold water on his desk and marveled at his collection of… well, everything. William had stacks of games, comics, books, trinkets, and superhero figurines. If I had more expendable cash, my room would look exactly the same.

I lifted the latest copy of Haunted Thrones. Of course he was following this series too.

A soft moan called my attention, and I put the book on his nightstand and wrung the cloth before stroking my dripping fingers along his jaw.

“Hey, I’m going to try and cool you down, okay?” I said, removing the bean bag from his abdomen.

He cracked his eyes open, his frown deep. He offered me the slightest nod, and I put the cloth on his forehead. He flinched, but I continued tracing my fingers down his chin, cupping his face before placing a soft kiss on his cheek.

“This is…” he said.

When I pulled away to look at him, his eyes had fallen closed again.

“… nice.” He swallowed.

“I’m doing the bare minimum here to keep you alive for my own selfish reasons.”

He chuckled and stilled. He didn’t open his eyes when he spoke again. “I’ve never had anyone do any of this for me… not since my gran.”

My heart cracked open. That couldn’t be true. What of his father? Who, it occurred to me in that moment, was a doctor. I stared at him, wanting to ask questions, to do more. But there wasn’t much more to do, and I didn’t think my intrusive questions were appropriate.

William tilted his head in my direction and opened his eyes. “What did you think of the latest Haunted Thrones? I assume you’ve read it by now.”

I lifted the book and shook my head. “I haven’t had a chance. Have you?”

He nodded and then cringed.

“Oh, don’t do that,” I said.

“What?”

“Don’t do that with your face. Now I know someone is going to die. Who is it? No. Don’t tell me. Never mind.” I put the book back on his shelf and enjoyed his soft laughter behind me.

“My brain feels noisy,” he whispered.

“I get noisy brain too.” In fact, having not had an inch of sleep all night and a busy start to the day, I was currently fighting it. “I drown it out by watching something familiar I don’t really need to focus on.” I grabbed his laptop and brought it to the bed. “Wanna try?”

He nodded, and I scooched near him, resting my head on his shoulder. He dropped his head on top of mine while I navigated through the movies he’d marked as favorites.

“I know.” He took the mouse and scrolled to a movie I’d have chosen if given the chance.

Half-awake, he locked our hands, our fingers fitting perfectly.

I closed my eyes and gave in to the feeling of peace, knowing William was okay and he was close enough for me to hear every breath.

A few minutes into The Lord of the Rings , sleep came for me. Finally.