Chapter Six

Without Ben to manage his mother, an extra two days became a week. Time got away from him. By the time he made it back to New Orleans, he was completely exhausted. He fell face down across his bed and died for fifteen hours. When his eyes finally opened again, they felt hot. He couldn't hold them open. When the first bout of puking hit, he barely made it to the bathroom in time. He didn't own a thermometer, but he knew he had a fever. The chills made his teeth chatter.

Rider's head pounded so badly, he could barely focus on his phone from the brightness. He had missed a text from Ben.

Ben: I saw your plane arrived yesterday. Since you're still not back in office, I'll assume you need a few more days. I've informed Tanner and berated him into submission when he insisted three weeks was plenty of time to "suck it up." If you're avoiding me, please just say that so we can move past it and we're not both out of the job.

Rider had no idea what any of those words meant. He was too dizzy. Still, he managed a quick one-word response.

Rider: Dying.

With the phone still clutched to his chest, Rider passed out again. The next time he came to, a cold washcloth covered his eyes. His teeth chattered again. The cool cloth was both a relief and torture. He was so hot yet freezing. Everything hurt—like he felt every painful inch of his skin. His stomach churned. It made loud noises that sounded throughout the quiet room.

"Oh, dear. Put this on your tongue."

Rider heard Ben's voice and obeyed without question. He felt better just knowing Ben was there. For a moment, he wondered if he'd hallucinated until he opened his mouth and a pill dissolved on his tongue. Thankfully, it didn't taste terrible. It was a little fruity with an aspirin aftertaste.

"That'll help with the nausea. When your stomach settles and you think you can keep it down, Dr. Night prescribed you an antiviral medication. It should lessen the symptoms and length."

"Thank you." Rider's voice sounded like shit. He couldn't open his eyes. Not that it mattered, since a washcloth still covered them. His mind cleared a hair. "Wait. I don't want you to get sick."

Ben stroked his stomach like a loving parent would a sick child. "Don't worry about me. Dr. Night started me on meds too, so I wouldn't catch anything."

Rider's muscles relaxed. "Good." A content sigh washed over him as his stomach eased, as if Ben's touch was magic. "That feels good."

"I've got you."

"You always do." Even to Rider's ears, he sounded half asleep already. Darkness tugged at his brain, trying to pull him back into a blissful sleep where sickness couldn't reach him. "That's why I love you."

"I love you too."

Rider heard the smile in Ben's voice, and he knew everything would be okay. Ben would fix him.

Ben stared at Rider's still form and tried to breathe. He wouldn't read too much into their exchange. Rider had said Ben was his best friend. It was entirely possible Rider only meant he loved Ben as he would his best friend. Other types of love existed. Ben couldn't let himself believe Rider meant anything more.

He looked terrible. Ben had been so upset when he had learned Rider was home, but hadn't called or shown up for work. He should have known something was wrong, but their sexual encounter had clouded things. He second-guessed everything now. While Rider hadn't stopped texting him since Ben left Mexico, it had all been business-related. Ben had no idea how to navigate these new waters. He had to stop thinking about it day and night.

Ben checked Rider's temperature one more time. It was still high, but there was nothing he could do about it with Rider asleep. Ben rubbed some hand sanitizer on his hands. He didn't take off his face mask until he left Rider alone to rest. Ben moved through Rider's home as if he had been there a million times, because he had. He ran basically every aspect of Rider's life. Rider's three thousand-square-foot home was nice by most people's standards, but oddly small considering his net worth. Ben knew that number too, since—again—he ran everything. He doubted Rider even knew the code to his safe, much less the numbers to his bank accounts. Ben didn't mind. He enjoyed being Rider's rock. With Rider in his life, Ben didn't have time to focus on himself. That was a good thing. Nothing good waited for him down that road.

He eyed Rider's office as he moved to sit behind the desk. Like his office at the arena, there was nothing personal about it. It was just a home office with office things. Rider's entire house was the same. There were empty rooms. Rooms with furniture that were never used. Thanks to a cleaning service, the place was spotless… and cold. There was no home in his house. Rider lived here and nothing else. Sometimes, it felt like Rider didn't live anywhere. He existed. The team ate his time and attention. Tanner ensured Rider couldn't focus on anything else. Ben wondered if Rider was happy at all, or if he had even stopped long enough to ask himself that.

Ben woke Rider's computer and logged on to their shared workspace. He still had a gazillion emails to answer, new stats he needed to file, and bills to pay. There was a list a mile long of phone calls he needed to return. Dry cleaning pick up and drop off had to be scheduled along with rescheduling all Rider's meetings that had already been rescheduled several times lately. He got to work. His eyes barely left the screen. Time passed with no meaning until the room darkened, making Ben realize he had never turned on the light. The morning sun was so bright in this room, he hadn't even considered it until it began to set. Ben straightened. His back popped. A pain bloomed behind one eye. He squeezed his eyes closed and leaned back in the chair. The pain worsened. Fucking migraines. He hadn't had one in a long time. Ben stood, and the room spun. He gripped the edge of the desk to steady himself. It didn't help. He tried to remember the last time he had eaten. Likely, he was just dehydrated. Sometimes, he got carried away and lost track of drinking and eating. He would raid Rider's fridge. He took a step and then there was nothing.