Romance Impossible(47)

"Beckett," I said, as we passed each other in the back hallway at quitting time, "you don't happen to have a key to the office, do you?"

"I do," he said, reaching into his pocket without hesitation. "Everything okay?"

"Oh, yeah, yeah," I said, in the most casual tone I could manage. "But I really need to update my W-2 before he sends them back on Monday, and I'm not working then. If I don't do it now, I'm definitely gonna forget."

It didn't make any damn sense, but I was banking on the fact that Beckett wouldn't question it, so long as I sounded sincere.

"Sure," he said, sliding the key into the handle. "I don't know where he keeps anything, though."

"Don't worry, I've got it," I said. "You can go home if you want. I'll lock up behind me."

"All right," he said. "Cheers."

Beckett left me alone in the office. The hardest part was over.

It only took me a few minutes to find a form that referenced his local address. I punched it into my phone, and found it was just a few T stops away.

On my way to catch the subway, I stopped at the CVS and grabbed an assortment of juice, tissues, cough drops and aspirin. I figured it was likely he didn't even have basic things around, judging how little time he seemed to spend at home. He probably wasn't even completely unpacked yet.

I didn't really start to question myself until I was standing in front of his door.

Too late to turn back now.

I pressed the buzzer.

It was chilly outside, and I started to shiver as I stood on the front porch. The buzzer was loud enough for me to hear, and probably some of his neighbors, too. It was late. Hopefully they wouldn't hate me.

Against my better judgment, I buzzed again.

The cold had officially seeped through my coat, and I was seriously thinking about just hanging the CVS bag on his doorknob, when I suddenly heard it rattle.

My heart jumped into my throat as the door slowly opened.

He looked like hell.

Pale as a ghost, with dark circles under his eyes and his hair sticking up in all directions...I wondered if it had actually taken him this entire time to shuffle to the door.#p#分页标题#e#

"I brought you some things," I said, shoving the bag towards him. "I just...Lydia said nobody had checked on you, so I wanted to make sure you were okay."

He looked at me with dull eyes.

"I've been better," he half-whispered.

Sense of humor intact. Well, that was a good sign.

He wasn't taking the bag, though, and the cold air was seeping into his apartment, which couldn't be good for him. I stepped inside and shut the door behind me, which didn't seem to faze him at all.

"Really," he said, still standing in the same spot, but swaying a little. "I'm...I'm fine."

"Go get back in bed," I said. "I'll just, uh...I'll just leave this stuff somewhere."

"Can't," he said, his voice growing a little fainter with each word. "Sheets are...too sweaty."

I couldn't hold back a snort of laughter at that.

"Okay," I said. "So lie down on the..." I scanned the dimly lit room, looking for a sofa, or an armchair, or...anything...

"Uh," I said, "okay, new plan. Just...sit down on something for a minute, okay?"

He wandered over to the wall, leaned up against it, and then slowly sank down to the floor. None of it seemed deliberate, but it worked out all right.

It was a small place, so finding the bedroom was a simple enough task. He wasn't kidding about the sheets. I remembered the last time I'd woken up with a fever in a pool of my own sweat, and felt a stab of sympathy for the guy who was currently curled up on his own bare living room floor, amongst a lot of open cardboard boxes.

I stripped the sheets carefully, tossing them in a pile on the floor temporarily while I searched for replacements. By the time I'd found the linen box and re-made the bed, carrying the lump of old sheets under my arm back into the living room, Max was asleep on the floor.

Please let there be in-unit laundry.

I peeked into the small room off the entryway hall - score. It was a tiny washer and dryer, but it was enough.

After I started a load with the sheets, I went over to Max and shook him on the shoulder, gently.

"Come on," I whispered. "The bed's ready. You can't sleep here all night."

He groaned, but with me urging him up by the arm, he was able to pull himself upright and stagger into the bedroom. He collapsed on the bed, seemingly without looking - it was a miracle he hit it - and I covered him with the blanket before making him drink a little of the juice.

"Have you taken anything recently?" I asked him.

He shook his head.

"Want an aspirin?"