From Lukov with Love Page 60
I could see the sigh he let out in his shoulders. “Take the damn pills. Your fever still hasn’t broken,” he ordered, still holding on to my shoulder because he knew damn well the second I got a chance, I’d try to roll over again. Ugh. Was I that predictable?
“My throat hurts,” I whispered, using that against him.
He sighed again, shaking his fist once more. “I’m not buying you children’s Tylenol. Take the pills.”
I closed one eye and left the other one open as I whispered, “I don’t want to.”
I’d swear on my life, Ivan flashed a smile so quick, it was there and then it was gone. Back to normal. Back to trying to boss me around for my own good. “You need them,” he reminded me.
I just stared at him with my one eye.
“No?”
“No,” I said, just barely loud enough for him to hear.
His jaw twitched, and his gaze narrowed. “Your mom warned me you’re a pain in the ass when you’re sick.”
She would say exactly that, that didn’t surprise me. I was a whiney little bitch when I was sick. It was true. So I didn’t waste my words and throat on agreeing.
What I did wonder was… when the hell had he talked to my mom?
And just as soon as I wondered that, I decided I didn’t give a shit.
Then it hit me. “I forgot to call—”
“Your mom called your boss for you,” he cut me off. “Now take them.”
“No.”
“You want to play this game, we can play this game,” he replied easily, making me suddenly wonder if I was screwing up. He kept going. “You’re going to take them.”
I swallowed and winced at the ache that answered that action.
The blink he gave me put me on edge instantly. Then his words confirmed that tiny worry he’d given me. His voice was low as he said, “You’re going to take them, or I’m going to make you take them.”
Ugh.
“Bitch,” I whispered.
He beamed at me, literally beamed, fully aware that we both knew his threat wasn’t in vain. Not at all. Not even a little bit. “You ready then?”
I opened my mouth, shooting him the nastiest look I was capable of while basically looking like a baby bird, and watched as he moved his hand over my face and dropped the pills into my mouth a moment before handing over a glass of water. Three small sips later, I swallowed the medicine and handed the glass back over. He took it and set it on the nightstand, before turning to me from where he’d been sitting on the edge of my bed the whole time.
“You feeling any better?” he asked.
“Little,” I whispered, because I was. Just a little. My headache wasn’t as bad, and even though I knew I had a fever, I was pretty sure it had to have gone down some. At least that’s what I hoped. I had to get better as soon as possible. That I hadn’t forgotten.
Ivan gave me a microscopic smile, his fingers coming back to touch my forehead with the backs of them, gentle, gentle, gentle. “Your fever has gone down. It was down to 102 when I checked it an hour ago.”
He’d checked it an hour ago? God, I was out of it.
Ivan flipped his hand over and touched my cheek with the tips of those cold fingers. “You want another wet towel for your head?”
“No,” I answered before adding, “thank you.”
That got me another little smile. “You want anything?”
“To feel better.”
“You’ll be better tomorrow,” he said.
“I have to.”
He rolled those bright blue eyes. “No, but you will,” he claimed, scooting his hip further into the bed. “There’s some soup for you downstairs.”
I couldn’t stop the frown from coming onto my face. “You made it?”
“Don’t look at me like I’m trying to poison you. If I wanted to, I would have done it already.” He grazed my forehead with the tip of his finger. “Your brother’s husband brought it over.”
Now that time, I did smile, thinking of sweet, wonderful James. “He makes the best soup.”
“It smelled good. He wanted to see you, but you were sleeping.”
I pulled the top of the comforter up, my muscles protesting that movement alone, but somehow I got it to go up the two inches to reach my chin. “He’s the best.”
That made him blink. “You think somebody’s the best?”
“He is,” I said. “My mom is too. So is my sister, Ruby. My sister Tali when she isn’t having girl problems.” I thought about it and swallowed again. “Lee’s pretty cool. My brothers are too, I guess. Aaron’s great. He can be on the list too.”
Ivan made a noise, then scooted even further into the bed. I watched him and slid to the side to give him more room, wondering what the hell he was doing. His hand landed on the spot over the covers where my elbow was tucked inside, and he asked, almost hesitating, which wasn’t at all like him, “And your dad?”
That’s how crappy I felt that I couldn’t even get mad at the mention of my dad’s name. Or disappointed, which said something too. But I told him the truth. “Not to me.”
I’d barely gotten the words out when his eyes sliced in my direction.
But he didn’t ask why I thought that, and I was genuinely relieved. He was the last person I wanted to talk about. If not the last, then in the top three. Top four for sure.
“Anyone else on the list?” he asked after an awkward second while I’d been thinking about my dad.
“No.”
I didn’t miss the casual look he slipped me before mentioning, “I’ve won two gold medals.”
“You don’t say,” I muttered sarcastically, watching him continue to shift on my mattress until his right side faced me.
“Yeah,” he answered just as sarcastically. “Not one. Two. A few world championships too.”
“What does that have to do with anything?” I croaked, my throat demanding water, as he then began to scoot backward until his spine met up with the headboard, just like mine had.
Ivan kicked his legs into the air, toeing off one fancy black leather boot after another, letting each thump to ground. “Some people think I’m the best.”
“Who?” I snorted weakly as I watched him settle his legs onto the bed, crossing one ankle over the other, showing me the purple and pink striped socks he had on.
He angled his upper body just enough so he could watch me with both eyes, chin to his T-shirt-covered chest. “Lots of people.”
I gasped, immediately regretting it because it made my throat ache. “I mean… I guess you’re pretty cool too.”
Those ebony eyebrows went up. “You guess?”
“I guess. Your skating is pretty good. And you’ve been really nice to me today. Yesterday. I don’t even know what day it is,” I mumbled. “You can be on the list too, if you’re going to make it awkward.”
“Don’t sound so excited.”
I laughed, wincing as I did it, and eyed the long body beside mine, the fingers knit on his chest that had at some point been running through my hair while I’d been at my worst. And without thinking about it, I scooted closer to him, wanting the touching again, wanting affection, lining up our hips and making my legs rest against the sides of his even under the covers. I swallowed, knowing somewhere inside of me he wouldn’t tease me about wanting to be closer to him, and tipped my head to the side, resting it on his shoulder. We had been closer than this every hour of the day for the last two months. It didn’t mean anything, I told myself. It didn’t mean a single thing. And that’s what I was going to go with, regardless of the knowledge that I had never, ever done something like this with bitch-ass Paul.
“You are the best,” I told him, sounding about as weak as I felt, “at pairs skating.”
Something landed softly on my head as he snickered, and I figured he was resting his head or cheek on top of mine. “Thanks for making sure to clarify that.”
I laughed some more, the sting totally worth it. “You’ve been a good friend to me so far, but I really only have your sister to compare you to.”
“Hmm,” he sighed, shifting in his spot beside me, before slipping his arm over my shoulder unexpectedly. It wasn’t like I was going to complain. It was warm and heavy, and I liked the way it made me feel: cocooned. Safe. I liked it a lot. “That’s true.”
“She used to let me borrow her clothes before she grew eight inches and left me behind. But she can’t pick me up like you do.”
His laugh was soft as he agreed. “You’ve got a point, Meatball. I’m easier to look at though.”
I couldn’t help the snort that I instantly regretted. “You’re so annoying.”
“You keep saying that.”
I smiled against his shoulder and heard a huff of air that told me he was more than likely doing the same exact thing. “You don’t have to stay, you know.”
“I know. Your mom said your sister or brothers could come check on your grumpy ass until she gets back,” he let me know.
I made a face. “She calls Tali throwing saltine crackers and Gatorade into my room taking care of me. I’d rather be by myself.”
“No Gatorade and no saltine crackers. That’s the last thing you need,” he said. “Sugar and pointless carbs won’t do anything.”
Leave it to Ivan to judge every ounce of nutrition that went into my mouth.
“Now I definitely can’t leave you, if that’s what will happen if I do,” he whispered.
I snickered.