Page 6 of Starlight Salon
We make it to the doorway and she turns us left. I groan when my shoulder slams into the wall.
“Oh, sorry.” Chloe cringes and manoeuvres me through the doorway instead of attempting to magic me through the wall. Maybe she’s a witch? Nah, witches are supposed to have warts. Unless she’s pretending to be human before killing me and taking my organs. But what a way to go. Her green eyes gazing at me while she murders me.
I think I need sleep.
Chloe moves me to the bed and turns me before I can collapse on it face down. She pushes my shoulders gently and I fall back, my head hitting the pillow, brain still sloshing around in my skull. My eyes shut to combat the feeling. Soft hands pick up my legs, lift them onto the bed, and cover me in a blanket. I’m shivering now. The last of my energy escapes me, and the heat from her hands disappears, leaving me cold.
Chloe perches on the bed beside me and brushes the hair from my eyes. “Will you be alright if I leave?”
My eyes pop open, arm shooting out to grasp her hand. “No.”
“No?” she asks.
“You can’t leave.” I give her my most pitiful look.
“Why not? I’ll tell Dom you’re sick and he’ll come over later.”
She stands, but I tighten my grasp as much as possible, which is really just a loose hold in my current state. “Please stay. I’m sick.” A well-timed cough erupts from me, and I release her hand to cover my mouth.
“Clearly.” She edges away from me. “But I don’t want to get sick. I need to organise the salon and find someone to fix the water.” Her voice is teasing but her eyes tighten, the green dimming to a muted colour. Not full of her usual sparkle.
What does she mean fix the water? I’m fixing it tomorrow, or maybe it’s the day after. Don’t remember, but I’ve organised it so her salon is ready for next week. “I’m fixing it for you.”
“You’re sick and couldn’t make it, remember?”
Thoughts race through my head while I try to figure out what she means, but my brain is sluggish, and attempting to unscramble her meaning causes my head to pound. “What do you mean?”
She tucks hair behind her ears, but it falls into her eyes. “The appointment’s today. But it’s fine, you’re sick and need to rest.” Chloe squeezes my hand.
I blink at her. Did she mean… “What? I was supposed to fix it today?” She nods. “I thought it was tomorrow and I had time to get better. Fuck. Let me get my tools.” I lever upright, fling the duvet off me, and glance blearily around the room, head pounding and body listing sideways. “Where are my tools?” I mutter. “Gotta get my tools.” I refuse to leave her in the lurch. Not her. She runs a hair salon, for fuck’s sake. She needs water.
She needs me. And there is no way I’m going to let her down.
“Lachlan, it’s fine.”
I scoot to the edge of the bed and catch myself on the bedside table before I tumble to the floor. “Give me a second to remember where they are and I’ll fix it.”
“Relax. Stop moving.” Chloe pushes me back on the bed and I fall sideways. She shrieks when momentum forces her to fall on top of me.
I moan. Pain lances through my head, but having her heat seeping into me makes it worth it. “Give me a minute and I’ll come to the salon.”
Chloe sighs, her breath ruffling my hair. “You’ll get worse if you come to the salon. You can’t even stand without help.”
“I totally can.”
“Really?” Her voice is disbelieving, but I can’t see her face because my eyes won’t open.
“Yep. In a second.”
“I’ll make a bet with you. If you can stand by yourself, I’ll let you come to the salon. If you can’t, then you have to swallow the medicine I give you and take a nap.”
“M’kay.”
The mattress dips as Chloe shifts herself off me to stand by the side of the bed. I miss her heat already.
“When you’re ready,” she says.
“Ready.”