Page 89 of Sing Your Secrets
Quinn:I’m coming to get you, smack some sense into you, then we’ll go for ice cream after.
Noa:You’re going to be such a good mom.
Quinn:*horrified expression emoji* Not in this life.
Addie:You may want to talk to your hubby. I’m pretty sure Cody wants a whole litter.
Mani:GUYS! Can we focus? Reese is in the lair. Dracula’s sucking her blood as we speak.
Addie:I’m sure he’s trying to suck something. Probably not her blood…
Reese: Hey! *clap emoji* *clap emoji* *clap emoji* It’s innocent. But it doesn’t look good. I’ve been here for hours. The problem is I can’t leave. His temperature spiked to 103.
Quinn:Drop him off at the ER.
Noa:Don’t even stop. Just slow the car…roll him out.
Addie:Slap a sticky note on his back that says: contagious cheating bastard.
Reese:Are you guys done? Mani?
Mani: Hold please…still thinking…what rhymes with good for nothing man whore?
Reese:Can you all be helpful now? Do I call Miles and tell him where I am?
Quinn: And make him worry for nothing? No.
Addie: If it’s innocent—tell him. Yes.
Mani:HELL NO.
Noa:You may have good intentions. Petey probably does not. Call Miles and tell him to come rescue you.
Reese:Hung jury? That’s how we’re going to leave this?
Addie: You’re the tiebreaker, Pieces.
Fuck.
I toss my phone on the living room coffee table and head to Petey’s bedroom. He’s buried under the covers except for one foot that’s peeking out. Petey has oddly beautiful feet. I never thought I’d say that about a man, but it’s undeniable. If I hadn’t spent every waking minute with him during our younger years, I would’ve been absolutely positive that he got regular pedicures.
“Petey,” I whisper as I approach one side of the California King. “It’s eight o’clock. I think I need to head out.”
“Okay,” he croaks. “Thanks for coming by.” It’s remarkable how fast his symptoms have progressed. At five-thirty he was able to walk to the door. By eight o’clock he’s sweaty and near delirious.
“I’ll get you another cool rag before I go, but you need to take another dose of the fever reducer in two hours.”
“Yeah,” he whispers. “Got it. The blue stuff, right?”
“It’s red, Petey.”
“Yeah, yeah—I got it…the blue stuff…”
Oh geez.He’s so tired, he’s not even able to process what I’m saying.
“Do you want to eat? You should put something in your stomach because the medicine can be tough on your system.”
“Not hungry.” His voice strains and he frees his hand from underneath the comforter to press against his throat.