Addicted to You(29)

I leaned over to hug her and gave her a peck on the cheek. “This is more than enough. And I’ll pick up more juice on the way home.”

“I go to the market tomorr—”

“You do too much as it is. I’ll get the juice and dinner for us. You don’t need to cook tonight. Let me pick something up.” I placed the juice and soup into a bag. “I’ll be home soon. Call me if you need anything else from the store.”

She nodded. “This is why you are my favorite granddaughter.”

As I walked to the front door, I laughed. “I’m your only granddaughter.”

“Y mi favorita.”

“Well, thank you. I know how stiff the competition is.”

Grandma’s laugh followed me out the door, and I smiled as I locked it behind me. I was grateful that she’d offered to let me move in with her and finish out high school after my parents divorced and decided to leave Port Lucia, but I was even more thankful for the time it allowed me to really get to know her. I’d always loved Grandma, but now she was the most influential person in my life. In her own words, she lived every day of her life with a smile on her face and a good deed in her heart, and I aspired to be just like her. Obviously, I was still a work in progress, but she was a constant reminder to not just live for myself but for others as well. It was one of the reasons I’d decided to go into nursing.

Colby’s place wasn’t far from mine, so when I was at the stop sign to enter his neighborhood, I shot him a quick text.

Me: Gonna drop something off at your place.

I wasn’t even sure if he’d see it, considering he was probably bedridden, but a moment later my phone chimed. I’d just pulled up in front of his house as I lifted my phone.

Colby: Hey. Landon and I are sick. Hate for you to catch it.

Me: Already here! Try not to cough on me.

Colby: Germs to myself. Got it. Door’s open.

I grabbed my bag and headed to his front door, glad that he didn’t have to get up to answer it. My plan had seemed like a great idea, but now I worried I’d just be imposing more than helping. With a deep breath and a smile on my face, I turned the knob and stepped inside and was immediately greeted by each brother strewn along a couch, blankets piled on top of them, watching TV.

“Hey,” Colby called out, his voice a bit on the hoarse side.

“Isla.” Landon shifted to see me. “Welcome to the lair of death.” He sounded congested and his words nasally.

“Oh my god. You guys look awful.” I stood near the coffee table and examined them both. “Does your mom know you’re sick?”

“No!” They practically shouted in unison.

I laughed.

“It’s just—yeah, we feel bad, but having Mom here, hovering over us, really isn’t going to make it better.” Colby pushed himself into a semi-sitting position. “Plus my fever broke yesterday. I’m hardly even sick anymore.”

I gave him a once-over. Disheveled hair. Nose raw and pink. Eyes watery. Skin pale. Yet still completely gorgeous. “Hm, if you say so.” I raised the bag in my hand. “I heard you were sick and brought you some of Grandma’s caldo. Oh, and orange juice, per her request.”

“You. Are. The. Best.” Landon stared at the bag, looking like I could pull out a live chicken and he’d still eat it.

“Have you eaten anything?”

“Didn’t really feel up to cooking. Pizza didn’t really sound appealing. But your grandma’s soup? That I’ll take.” Landon began shifting to stand, but I stopped him.

“Just keep resting. I’ll heat you both some up and bring it to you in here.”

“You don’t have to do that.” Colby shook his head. “I’d honestly hate for you to get sick.”

“I’ll take some vitamins when I get home. Now just lie down and I’ll be right back.”

The guys didn’t put up much more of an objection, probably because they were equal parts hungry and lethargic. I found a pot and heated Grandma’s soup on the stove, since I knew for a fact it was best warmed the traditional way versus a microwave. And while I waited for it to warm, I went ahead and loaded their dishwasher and tidied up the kitchen.

“Isla, if you’re cleaning in there…”

The warning in Colby’s tone only made me smile. “Nope, just looking for dishes.”

“Uh-huh.” He clearly wasn’t buying my story.

“Almost done.” I reached into the cabinet for two glasses and poured them each juice. Nothing about beef soup and orange juice sounded good together, but Grandma knew best, right? Then I got two bowls, filled them up, and set a spoon in each one. I carried the soup out first.