Chapter 2

2

Lachlan

A knock spears through my foggy half-asleep state and I groan. Why is it so loud? The pounding in my head agrees with me by throbbing harshly, while my brain sloshes around, bouncing in my head. Can it bounce if I'm not moving?

The rapid pounding comes again.

On second thought, it might be the door and not my head. Or is it both?

"Lachlan."

I frown and moan into the pillow when the movement pulls at my too tight skin.

"Lachlan."

It's a woman's voice, which is confusing since I don't have a sister or a girlfriend. Unfortunately.

Am I dreaming?

"Are you alive? Dom's worried because you aren't responding to his texts."

I drag my head to the side and see my uncharged phone on the floor. Right. It died last night because it hurt too much to move my decrepit body and put it in the charger.

Who am I kidding? It could've been the night before.

What's Dom worried about?

The knocks are getting louder the longer it takes for me to reply.

"Coming," I call out, my voice rough and husky. My throat protests the word and I cough, hacking the little life out of me.

She must not hear me because she keeps banging on the door. Each time she knocks, it echoes through my skull.

God, I hate being sick.

I yank the door open and the woman's hand jerks back before she hits me instead of the door. Not that anything could make me feel worse right now.

"Lachlan?"

I nod, incapable of words.

It's Chloe.

Of all the people banging on my door at god knows what time, forcing me to drag my half-dead body to the door, I didn't think it would be her.

"Well, I'm glad you're alive. Dom was worried and asked me to check on you. He's stuck at the bar." She looks me up and down, cheeks flushing as she scans my bare chest and averts her gaze from my boxes.

If I had the energy, I'd be embarrassed she's seeing me like this. At least I'm not wearing the spanner boxers I received as a gag-gift last Christmas. They're in the wash…again.

"Wanna tell me why you didn't show up to fix my water?" She sounds annoyed, her arms crossed tightly over her chest.

My eyes fixate on her hair. It's pinned up with something, and there are swoopy bits in the front now.

"You changed your hair." Her greenish eyes widen before narrowing at me as I sway forward and grab the door for balance. "It's pretty." Her cheeks flush deeper and she holds her hands up as if she's about to touch me, but she doesn't. Instead, she glances at the stairs and heaves a sigh, steps inside my flat, and closes the door with a click.

"You're sick. You need to lie down," she commands, herding me to the lounge with her hands held in a surrender action.

I walk backwards, not taking my eyes off her concerned ones. My foot catches something and I fall, narrowly missing the coffee table. I yelp when I hit the ground and curl into a fetal position. Such dignity.

"Oh my god. Okay, this is fine. Everything's fine." Chloe appears in my vision crouched beside me, and her cool hand brushes the hair away from my brow. I sigh. It's exactly how I imagined it. Although, I didn't envision having the flu, curled up on the floor from tripping over nothing.

"Are you alright?"

I grunt in response. Am I hallucinating her? I've thought about her in my flat more than enough times that my delirious brain is capable of conjuring her, but I like to imagine it wouldn't be like this. Me, sick and incapable of hugging her.

"We need to get you to bed."

"Mmm, bed." She's sitting beside me now. My body rolls and I throw an arm over her crossed legs, pressing my head against her knee. Chloe jumps slightly, but it's comfier than I anticipated and my eyes flutter shut, my breaths deepen attempting to inhale her scent, but my nose is too blocked to catch it. The perfect opportunity to smell her and my nose won't work. Figures.

"Nope. I won't let you fall asleep on the floor. It can't be good for you."

I huff. Why does the floor matter? She's there, so it's perfect.

Chloe rolls me onto my back, and pushes at my shoulders. "Come on. Up you get."

Well fine, she wants me to sit up, so I will. I push upright and ignore my throbbing head. Her hands rub my bare shoulders, soothing the aches in my body.

I frown when her hands leave me. She stands and moves too far away for me to reach, glances around the room and focuses on the couch with covers hanging off it.

"You've been sleeping on the couch?"

I nod, swaying when the movement causes nausea to pulse through me. Walking to the door and falling really took it out of me. I'm on the last legs of the flu, but it's hanging onto me for dear life.

"Where's your room?"

My hand flings towards the hallway.

"Is there a reason you aren't sleeping there?" she asks, grabbing the blankets and folding them. She sets them neatly on the couch, pausing when she notices my phone. She picks it up and taps it, but it remains blank. "Makes sense," she mutters. "Stay here." She disappears down the hall.

I lean against the couch and close my eyes. Is Chloe really here? I've only spoken to her on the phone, seen her talking to Dom, and occasionally at the bar every few weeks with her friends.

Read: Obsessively watched her.

Usually I try to go Next Door on Saturdays to see her, even though I haven't gained the courage to approach her. Seeing her's enough.

Why is she here? Not that I'm complaining, it's a dream come true having her in my space, it just doesn't make sense. How does she know where I live?

"Nope, you're not allowed to fall again."

My eyes snap open to see her hovering over me. She pushes my shoulder, stopping me from sliding back to the ground. Her brow creases as she kneels beside me and takes my hand to put my arm around her shoulders. I don't like her frowning. Don't like that she's stressed because of me.

"Up we get." She stands cautiously, attempting to drag me with her.

I stare at her hair. She's pulled it up with a green clip similar to her eye colour. But not exact. It's missing the small gold flecks.

Chloe tugs my arm and grunts when I don't move. "I can't lift you myself, Lachlan. You need to give me a hand." She drops my arm and winces when it hits the floor, but I don't feel anything. "Okay, new plan. This time when I pull you, you try and stand with me. Got it?"

"Yeah."

This time when she pulls my arm across her shoulder, I push upwards and try not to put too much weight on her.

Chloe grumbles when I sway into her, but we're standing. "Now we walk."

She guides me down the hall, pulling me along to my bedroom while I try to figure out how my legs work and how I can get her to marry me.

I stumble. What?

We make it to the doorway and she turns us left. I groan when my shoulder slams into the wall.

"Oh, sorry." Chloe cringes and manoeuvres me through the doorway instead of attempting to magic me through the wall. Maybe she's a witch? Nah, witches are supposed to have warts. Unless she's pretending to be human before killing me and taking my organs. But what a way to go. Her green eyes gazing at me while she murders me.

I think I need sleep.

Chloe moves me to the bed and turns me before I can collapse on it face down. She pushes my shoulders gently and I fall back, my head hitting the pillow, brain still sloshing around in my skull. My eyes shut to combat the feeling. Soft hands pick up my legs, lift them onto the bed, and cover me in a blanket. I'm shivering now. The last of my energy escapes me, and the heat from her hands disappears, leaving me cold.

Chloe perches on the bed beside me and brushes the hair from my eyes. "Will you be alright if I leave?"

My eyes pop open, arm shooting out to grasp her hand. "No."

"No?" she asks.

"You can't leave." I give her my most pitiful look.

"Why not? I'll tell Dom you're sick and he'll come over later."

She stands, but I tighten my grasp as much as possible, which is really just a loose hold in my current state. "Please stay. I'm sick." A well-timed cough erupts from me, and I release her hand to cover my mouth.

"Clearly." She edges away from me. "But I don't want to get sick. I need to organise the salon and find someone to fix the water." Her voice is teasing but her eyes tighten, the green dimming to a muted colour. Not full of her usual sparkle.

What does she mean fix the water? I'm fixing it tomorrow, or maybe it's the day after. Don't remember, but I've organised it so her salon is ready for next week. "I'm fixing it for you."

"You're sick and couldn't make it, remember?"

Thoughts race through my head while I try to figure out what she means, but my brain is sluggish, and attempting to unscramble her meaning causes my head to pound. "What do you mean?"

She tucks hair behind her ears, but it falls into her eyes. "The appointment's today. But it's fine, you're sick and need to rest." Chloe squeezes my hand.

I blink at her. Did she mean… "What? I was supposed to fix it today?" She nods. "I thought it was tomorrow and I had time to get better. Fuck. Let me get my tools." I lever upright, fling the duvet off me, and glance blearily around the room, head pounding and body listing sideways. "Where are my tools?" I mutter. "Gotta get my tools." I refuse to leave her in the lurch. Not her. She runs a hair salon, for fuck's sake. She needs water.

She needs me. And there is no way I'm going to let her down.

"Lachlan, it's fine."

I scoot to the edge of the bed and catch myself on the bedside table before I tumble to the floor. "Give me a second to remember where they are and I'll fix it."

"Relax. Stop moving." Chloe pushes me back on the bed and I fall sideways. She shrieks when momentum forces her to fall on top of me.

I moan. Pain lances through my head, but having her heat seeping into me makes it worth it. "Give me a minute and I'll come to the salon."

Chloe sighs, her breath ruffling my hair. "You'll get worse if you come to the salon. You can't even stand without help."

"I totally can."

"Really?" Her voice is disbelieving, but I can't see her face because my eyes won't open.

"Yep. In a second."

"I'll make a bet with you. If you can stand by yourself, I'll let you come to the salon. If you can't, then you have to swallow the medicine I give you and take a nap."

"M'kay."

The mattress dips as Chloe shifts herself off me to stand by the side of the bed. I miss her heat already.

"When you're ready," she says.

"Ready."

"Your eyes aren't open."

"They are."

"If your eyes are open, then how many fingers am I holding up?" Her voice shakes with amusement.

"Pretty ones."

Chloe giggles and I smile tiredly. I made her laugh.

"If you don't stand within the next five seconds, medicine it is."

My eyes open and I wait for them to focus. I push my hands against the mattress and sit slowly, my stomach muscles twinging while Chloe watches with her arms crossed.

I'm panting when I finally manage to sit upright, watching as the walls move closer to me. I stand cautiously and only get halfway up before the ground rushes towards me and I sink back to the sheets instead. "I'll get there in a second." I glance at her and laugh ruefully. "I kinda feel like shit."

She brushes my hair again. Who knew I would become addicted to having my hair stroked so quickly? Dogs were on to something. "I know, honey. I'll find some medicine for you."

Chloe leaves the room, the sounds of her rifling in the cupboards while she mutters to herself echo throughout the flat. I smile. She talks to herself. And is in my flat, touching my things.

I turn my head to the door when I hear her steps in the hallway. She's holding three boxes of medicine and a glass of water.

"I found cold and flu medicine, Nurofen, and vitamins." She drops them on the bed and sets the glass on the bedside table. "Can you sit for me?"

I drag myself against the headboard. The room has mostly stopped spinning.

She passes me a handful of tablets and the glass. "Take these and you should feel better soon."

I down them quickly and cringe when a tablet lodges in my throat. I drink more water to chase away the sensation. She takes the glass and leaves the room to refill it, taking her calming presence with her. When she returns, I'm lying down, curled on my side, waiting for death to take me. "Am I going to die?"

"It's the flu, Lach, not the plague."

I cough into the covers. She used my nickname.

"But just because it isn't the plague doesn't mean I want it," Chloe says, backing away.

"Sorry."

"I'm going to call Dom and then I'll leave you alone."

My chest tightens. "Stay, please?" I'm not above begging if it means I get a little more time with her. If it means she'll stay here with me, where I can make new memories of the flat with her in my space.

Green eyes survey me and I can't figure out what's going on in her head.

"I'll think about it."

I nod and close my eyes, waiting for sleep to find me.