Page 8 of Starlight Salon
“He’s sleeping now, and I got some medicine into him.” I rifle through his pantry to see what he has. He probably hasn’t eaten in a while and will need something when he wakes up.
“Thanks.” Something crashes in the background and Dom swears. “I’ll be there later tonight to check on him. Thanks for making sure he’s alive.”
I spy chicken stock in the depths of the pantry. “No problem.”
“Are you heading home now?”
I set the stock and some noodles I find on the bench and bite my lip, glancing at his bedroom. “I’m already here. I may as well stay tonight and make sure he’s okay.” I roll my eyes at myself. Why am I staying when I’m being given an out? Oh, because he’s adorable and funny even in his delirious state, and I already feel guilty at the thought of leaving.
“Are you sure?” Dom sounds confused. Probably because of how adamant I was about not checking on him. “What if you get sick?”
I fill a pot with stock and stick it on the stove. Dom has a point.
The thought drifted through my mind whenever Lachlan coughed, but I don’t want to leave him alone. The reason why eludes me. I barely know him, but when he stared at me with his deep brown eyes and clung to me, my stomach fluttered and it was hard to keep my smile hidden. “I’ll take some vitamin C and stay away from him unless he needs medicine or food. I’ve had my flu shot.”
He’s silent for a moment before agreeing. “I’ll come by in the morning.”
I hang up and add herbs to the broth. Am I entirely too willing and excited to take care of someone I barely know who cuddled me on the floor? Yes, but I’m going with it. It’s not his fault he’s sick and couldn’t make it to the job. Clearly, he needs help on that end. Where are his employees—or boss, for that matter?
But… I can’t leave him. I hate being alone when I’m sick. Unable to get medicine and food for myself. Having someone there to care for you makes the recovery process smoother and less painful. I won’t rob him of that. This is my opportunity to learn more about him, to finally spend time with him. I’d been hoping to take the chance when he fixed my water, but we’re here now—together—so I’ll take it.
Besides, I kinda have the feeling if I was sick he’d help me.
Is it weird he noticed I changed my hair?
A quiet laugh escapes me as his snore echoes through the flat.
Leaving the broth to simmer, I collapse on his couch. He’s heavy, and dragging him all over the flat was not something I prepared for, but at least there are books on my phone I can entertain myself with until he wakes.
His lounge has photos on the walls of who I assume are his family, and the coffee table is littered with remotes, but they look organised. I grab the fluffy blanket he left on the couch and drape it across me to snuggle into, inhaling his scent.
Or germs. I wrinkle my nose and take the blanket away from my face. The room is surprisingly cosy. Not at all what I thought Lachlan’s home would look like. And I’ve imagined it. A lot.
It’s an hour before the gentle snoring stops. I started another book and was so engrossed it takes a second for me to realise why it’s silent. I push open his door gently and see him blinking at the ceiling, a dazed expression on his face.
“How are you?” I avoid looking at his chest. The one thing I hadn’t done was attempt to dress him. I may be staying to look after him, but I highly doubt I’d manage to get anything on him considering how difficult it was for him to stand, so I decided not to try. Unfortunately.
“Chloe?” He tenses and his eyes dart around the room. It’s a standard bedroom, dresser facing the bed with an old TV on it, a chair decorated with clothes. There’s no reason for him to freak out.
I walk to the side of the bed. “I helped you to your room and gave you some medicine. Do you remember?”
He nods slowly as if the movement causes him pain. “What time is it?”
“Around four.”
He tries to sit and groans, sinking back to the pillow. “Why does my whole body hurt?”
“You have the flu.” He better remember everything because if he doesn’t we definitely have a problem.
“I let a kid watch me on a job. I knew his cough was bad.”
My lips twitch at the image. “Are you feeling any better?”
“The room’s spinning less, so that’s good.”
No wonder he was falling everywhere. “I’ll get you some food since you’re up.”
“Can I have more medicine?” His voice is hoarse.