An Ounce of Hope(90)

"Are you awake?" The duvet was pulled gently from her grasp, causing another violent shiver to gallop across her. She gasped when something large and freezing cold touched her forehead. "Shit, Grace, you're burning up."

Maybe he was real. "Max?" The cover disappeared altogether. Grace tried to protest, tried to reach for it, but her body just wouldn't move. "Don't," she mumbled, opening her eyes into small slits, seeing a blur of dark hair and darker eyes. "Cold."

"You're not cold," the dark eyes told her. "You have a fever. Come on."

She cried out when hands grabbed at her and hauled her into strong arms. "I know. I'm sorry," he said soothingly. She hurt everywhere he touched. God, she wanted her momma.

"Shhh," he whispered against her cheek. "I've got you." His hand was icy on her face. "Don't cry."

"It hurts," she croaked against the nausea, slumping against him.

"I know," he murmured. "I'm going to try and cool you down, okay?"

"Max?"

"Yeah."

"I think I was sick."

He chuckled. "Yeah, I think you were."

"Don't smell me."

"Too late."

"Oh God."

"Don't worry about it. We're going to take a shower, all right?"

A shower sounded cold. She shook her head. "Please, don't."

"It'll feel colder than it is because you're so hot. Jesus, Grace, you're shaking, why the hell didn't you call?"

She didn't know. The last thing she remembered was getting home last night from DC feeling more tired than usual, with a splitting headache, and crawling into bed. Then her dinner had made a reappearance and everything went tits up.

"I'm gonna sit you down. Hold on to me."

Grace's backside hit something cool and she tilted sideways, caught by Max's hand on her shoulder. She didn't have the strength to hold on to him. Her fingers just wouldn't work.

"Hey."

"Hey," she muttered back. "It hurts, Max. Can you-"

"Can you do me a favor?

A favor! Was he nuts? She could barely sit up. She opened her eyes to see Max crouching in front of her, his handsome face serious. They were in the bathroom. She was sitting on the toilet seat. He had a cell phone to his ear. What the hell was going on?

"I'm at Grace's. I found her in bed. She's running a really high fever . . . no, she's not really with it." His hands found her face again. "She can't hold herself up- No, she's not. Yeah, she's definitely puked. I was going to put her in the shower, try and cool her down . . . okay. I don't have the number. Can you call him? Thanks."




 

 

"I'm sorry," she whispered as he slipped his cell back into the pocket of his shorts, the urge to cry again scratching her throat.

"For being ill?" he asked, standing up in front of her. "Don't be dumb. Lift your arms for me."

She did as he asked without question and hissed when the frigid air of the bathroom hit her skin. "Please, Max." She shivered. "I need my sweater."

"After you've showered with me. Lift up so I can pull off your sweats." She wobbled when she stood and he held her upright. "You should be ecstatic," he added from her feet. "You told me you wanted me to have you in the shower."

She closed her eyes and groaned as her stomach rolled and the room swam. "Max, you're very pretty, but I don't think we can have sex right now."

His laugh was beautiful but it hurt her ears and made her head pulse. She closed her eyes.

"Don't worry, Gracie, I just want to help make you feel better."

His nickname for her made her smile. He lifted her again, his body like ice against hers, and moved them both into the shower. She whimpered and clutched on to him as he turned the water on and the spray caught her foot like a rush of Arctic Ocean. She cried out, the sensation like a fierce slap against her skin.

"Max, please," she begged into his shoulder, trying her best to climb up him and away from the water.

"Hang on. It'll only be for a minute. I'll do it quickly. You need to cool down, sweetheart. You're far too hot." His lips pressed against her temple. "Hold me."

She cried out again when he lifted the showerhead and moved it hastily over her body, keeping it for long moments on the back of her neck and her scalp. It hurt. It hurt and made her bones vibrate, but she knew somewhere in the back of her heat-addled mind that it was for her own good. She sniffled and whimpered into Max's neck, hearing him turn off the water and step out of the shower. She was still in his arms and, when she opened her eyes, she could see goose bumps running across his shoulder.

"Ar-are you c-cold?" she stammered against her chattering teeth.