I looked down at my plate. Sure enough, Harley had eaten all my fries.
“Okay. Let’s go.”
After saying bye to the guys, Harley straddled my bike once more, but he let me drive. I looked over my shoulder at him as he snapped his helmet on.
“Don’t feel like taking her for a spin?” I asked.
“Maybe some other time. I’m not feeling so hot all of a sudden.”
“What did you drink?” I turned partially on the bike and touched his cheek. He felt a little warm.
“Just soda.”
“Maybe you’re coming down with something?”
“Maybe.” Harley nodded and tipped his head back, inhaling the cool air.
“Let’s get you home.”
I pulled out of the parking lot and stopped. Something felt off and I couldn’t put my finger on it.
“What is it?” Harley asked.
“It’s nothing, I guess.” I placed his hand on my abdomen. “Hang on, okay?”
Harley wrapped his arms around my waist and I pulled out into the alley behind the diner. I retraced Harley’s path and made it back to his place in ten minutes. I pulled into his driveway and helped him off the bike. Harley wobbled a bit, so I held on to him. I removed his helmet and checked him thoroughly.
“You’re a little warm. I don’t like it.” I peered into his eyes. They were glazed over. “Maybe you should see a doctor.”
“Nah, I’m good. I’ll get over whatever this is. I don’t get sick often.”
“Which is why I’d like you to see a doctor, Harley.” Harley slumped in my arms and exhaled loudly. I held him up and his head fell back, a lazy smile turned his lips.
“S’all good, Achiiilllleees,” Harley slurred.
“Okay, that’s it.” I picked Harley up and carried him into the house. I set him down on his bed and took off his shoes. Harley rolled to his side with a sigh and curled into the fetal position. I covered him with a comforter and headed into the kitchen to use the phone. The phone number for the band’s personal doctor was on the fridge and I called him immediately.
“Doc Mathis here,” he answered.
“Um, this is Achilles Castellanos, Harley’s bodyguard? Um, I think he’s sick.”
“Well, hello, Achilles. Is he running a fever?”
“He seems warm.”
“I’ll be there in ten.”
I hung up and paced the room. Harley seemed fine at the diner and now he wasn’t. Maybe it was food poisoning? I went back to Harley’s room to see him leaning over the side of the bed. I ran and grabbed the trashcan just in time to catch Harley puking out dinner.
“Achilles,” Harley rasped.
“I’m here.” I sat on the edge of the bed and smoothed his hair back.
“Stomach hurts.”
“Lay back,” I instructed him.
Harley did as he was told, and I rubbed his stomach in soft, slow circles. It was something my mother had done for me whenever I was sick and it helped me. I hoped it helped Harley. Harley sighed and his eyelashes fluttered. Even sick, he was the most gorgeous man I’d ever laid eyes on.
“How’s that feel?” I asked.
“Better. You don’t look so hot either.” Harley motioned to my face.
I blinked and tried to focus on Harley. My stomach lurched and my head began to pound.
“Oh shit,” I whispered. I pulled out my phone and dialed Axel’s number. He picked up on the second ring.
“Achilles?”
“Sick…Harley’s… come.”
Chapter 4
Harley
“Ohhh fuck.” My head swam and the gurgling in my gut would not stop. Something cool hit my forehead and then a warm hand touched my temple.
“Harley? It’s Doc Mathis. Can you tell me where it hurts?”
“Hurts everywhere. Feel like my stomach’s ripping apart.”
“Seems like you and Achilles have the same thing. What did you eat or drink today?”
“Achilles is sick?” I tried to sit up, but Doc Mathis pushed me back down gently.
“He’s in the living room. He’s already thrown up everything he possibly can and I’m giving him anti-nausea medication. It’s the same thing I’m going to give you. Both of you are hooked up to IVs, so please be careful. I’m going to prescribe you bed rest and don’t remove your IV until all the saline is gone from the bag, okay? If you or Achilles feels any worse, I want you to call me immediately.”
“What’s wrong with us, Doc?”
“I suspect food poisoning. I’m giving you forty-eight hours, and if you don’t improve, I’ll be drawing blood and admitting you.”
“Are you sure Achilles is okay?” I asked, holding my head.