“Okay, Em.” He sighed as he turned into the lot of Pizza Palace and pulled into a spot near the front door. “Whatever you want.”
Em threw her door open before he could start acting like this was some kind of date, but was forced to accept his help in climbing down from the precarious metal step. Once she was on solid ground again, he released her hand immediately—for which, she was grateful—and she followed him through the door.
Screaming children, blaring music, and all around chaos greeted them on the other side. Definitely not her kind of place.
“Friday night!” Mason shouted above the ruckus with a shrug. “Sorry about that! I wasn’t thinking!”
“It’s fine! Let’s just eat!” And get out of there before the migraine she could already feel coming on got any worse. She’d been tired and achy all day. The last thing she had time for was a cold.
***
“At least we don’t work there,” Mason offered as he pulled open the passenger side door and helped Em back inside.
The upside of all that noise was that it kept conversation to a minimum. Mason was a nice guy, but the fact that Jay couldn’t stand him and Mason couldn’t care less made the whole situation uncomfortable, to say the least.
“Yeah. That would be a nightmare. I don’t know how they do it.”
The ride home was blissfully quiet with Em only speaking to give directions as she nursed the pounding in her skull. When they reached the house, Mason pulled into the drive and shut off his truck. If he thought he was getting an invitation to come in, he was going to be sorely disappointed. She reached for her door handle, but his voice cut her off.
“Are you going to be all right?”
Em could feel her forehead scrunch in confusion. What did he mean by that?
“Home alone. This late. Will you be all right until Jay gets home?” It would have come off as a lame fishing expedition if it hadn’t been for the genuine concern in his eyes. He wasn’t hunting for an invitation to stay, he was legitimately concerned about her safety. Despite whatever hang-ups Jay had with him, Mason was a decent guy.
“I’ll be fine. Jay shouldn’t be too much longer.”
“Okay. Goodnight, Em.”
“Goodnight, Mason. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
As soon as she was through the front door, Em locked it up tight like Jay had drilled into her. Then she flicked on some lights. Headlights trailed across the living room wall as Mason backed from the driveway. He’d waited until she was inside to leave.
Feeling queasy from the greasy pizza—she missed Joe’s—Em grabbed a couple of aspirin and a bottle of water, and made her way to the couch. She’d watch a little TV to keep herself awake until Jay got home.
Chapter Seven
Jay
Jay’s head pounded, his back ached, and his feet were protesting the cheap shoes he’d just spent the past ten hours standing in. All of that disappeared at the sight of Em sleeping soundly on the couch when he stepped inside the house. Despite how exhausted she looked when she’d left the restaurant, she’d waited up for him. Or at least she’d tried.
Watching her sleep was probably a creepy thing to do, but he couldn’t help himself. The reality of her there, in his home—in their home—was still so incredible to him. As he stood in the dark, she shifted restlessly, releasing a groan as she rolled to bury her face in the cushion.
Jay’s heart squeezed. Another nightmare. She could barely close her eyes without having one. He wondered, morbidly, if she’d ever know peace. If either of them would.
“Wake up, Em. It’s just a dream.” Keeping his touch light as not to agitate her further, Jay attempted to shake her awake, but her skin was on fire. She was burning up. It wasn’t just another nightmare. She was sick. “Em? Baby, wake up.”
Her hair was plastered to sweat dampened cheeks while her entire body shivered almost violently. Pulling the throw blanket from the back of the couch, he tucked it around her before forcing himself to leave her long enough to wet a washcloth and pour a glass of water. He was no doctor, but he’d had his fair share of experiences with fevers.
Em roused sluggishly as he pressed the cool compress to her face, blinking up at him before groaning and squeezing her eyes shut again.
“I’m . . . so c-cold, Jay.”
“I know, baby. It’s okay.” Her complaint got to him. More than the heat pouring off her skin. More than the shivers coursing through her small body. More than anything. Em never complained. Not ever. “It’s gonna be okay. You’re going to be okay.”
Jay’s focus ping-ponged between Em shaking on the couch and the thermostat hanging on the wall. Fuck it, he’d deal with the consequences next month when the bill came due. The urge to throw all caution to the wind and crank it as high as it would go pricked his mind and itched his fingers, but he couldn’t be that reckless. Carefully turning the dial up another ten degrees, he listened as the old radiators clanked to life around the house.