Tangled (29 page)

Time
ground to a screeching halt. Her head whipped up, eyes wide.

He
didn’t elaborate.

Tess
glanced at her cell. It was nearing one in the morning. She needed to hurry
back to Lydia’s for her things. No doubt the girl probably spent the majority
of the party rolling on the floor, cackling gleefully at her prolonged absence.
 

“I
should head out.” She shoved off the nightstand. “ Don’t forget Lydia made soup
when you’re ready to eat it. I’ll put in your fridge.”

His
hand shot out and caught her wrist. He mumbled something unintelligible.

“What?”

His
chest heaved, as if his next words caused him as much pain as the fever. “I
said stay.”

Sympathy
and frustration whittled down what little remained of her energy. “I wish you
the best, I really do. But I can’t keep doing this Adonis. Be your confidante
one day and on your shit list the next.”

“It
wasn’t my decision,” he gritted, clinging to lucidity.

“What
do you mean it wasn’t your decision?” she asked even as the pieces began
assembling. “Cameron. He put you up to this, didn’t he?”

He
neither confirmed nor denied the accusation.

Anger
whisked through her. She couldn’t believe him! Why did he have to be so
insecure?

She
dove for her cell, intent on giving her boyfriend a piece of mind. Tess was
beginning to think that after four years of friendship, she really didn’t know
Cameron.

 
“Don’t.”

“Don’t
what? Tell him how shallow and vindictive it is to threaten to cut off one of
his friends?”

“Just
don’t.” He coughed again.

Shelving
resentment at her soon-to-be dead boyfriend, she rubbed his back. Tess scowled
at the searing warmth trapped beneath his shirt. He was hemorrhaging heat.

She
deserted his side for the adjoining bathroom. Tess submerged the washcloth
hanging conveniently from the faucet’s neck in cold water.

Adonis
had curled into the fetal position in her absence. She inveigled him into lying
on his back and draped the washcloth across his forehead.

Worry
marked her brow as he began shivering.

Cameron
would have to be dealt with later.

Right
now, Tess had to focus on getting Adonis better. She’d more than had her fill
of ER trips.

Chapter 17

As
soon as Adonis came to, he wished he’d stayed under longer.

His
chest slogged with fluid. Mucous clogged his sinuses. His skin was so tight
from dried sweat he felt like a shedding snake trapped in its old epidermis.

Every
ligament and joint in his undernourished body ached.

And
that list of ailments didn’t include the side effects from the medication he
had started three weeks ago.

All
in all, he felt like shit warmed over.

Adonis
rolled onto his side, searching for a position that would provide some relief
from the congestion.

A
teasing scent stole past the blockage obstructing his sinuses. Sweet with a
hint of citrus, it reminded him of strawberries and pink grapefruit.

Disconcerted,
he opened his eyes.

Fear,
cold and cutting, plunged through him when he saw her lying there, in his bed,
so close he could reach out and touch her. He hadn’t slept with her again, had
he?

He
bolted upright in a near state of panic. A damp cloth slid off of his forehead
and landed in his lap in a soggy plop. It triggered a replay of the previous
night.

With
a soft groan, Adonis slumped back against the pillows.

Tess
had come through for him again.

Ever
since Cameron slapped him with the ultimatum, he had mulled over what he to say
to her. It hadn’t been difficult, considering she was part of the reason for
their stilted friendship. But when he had seen her standing outside of the
bathroom, Cameron’s baggy clothes hanging off of her slender frame, he wanted
to hurt her in the worst possible way: for turning his best friend against him,
for butting her way into his life, for making him care.

Her
wounded expression, like a kicked puppy, had disturbed what little sleep he
could come across for weeks.

The
flu was karma’s retribution. He deserved to suffer and wade alone through
misery of his own making.

Adonis
cast a covert glance her way.

He
was safe.

She
lay unmoving, the sound of her breathing deep and undisturbed. Perspiration
dotted her brow and brimmed her upper lip.

Adonis
withdrew a remote from beneath his pillow and powered down the fireplace.

It
was strange to see her without safeguards. There was expressiveness to her
face, even as she slept. His eyes traced the lines and curves of her features:
the graceful arch of her eyebrows, the elegant sweep of her cheekbones, the
dainty perch of her nose, and the sultry shapeliness of her mouth.

An
old, insistent urge tugged at him. For once, it wasn’t completely sexual. The
insistency hummed in his blood and wriggled deep beneath the pads of his
fingertips until he was literally itching for a pencil and pad of paper to
capture the aesthetic details of her face.

A shard
of mid-morning sunlight highlighted the subtle tones of her peaches and cream
complexion. At some point during the night her hair had fallen out of the twist
and spilled around her. It had taken on a copper-penny hue in the light, the
pool of multihued tresses straddling several shades, like her greenish brown
eyes, like so many interchanging and contradicting characteristics about her.

She
could be spitting fire one second and the next offering a helping hand, always
putting others before self. She was confident and vulnerable, driven and a
sharp-witted, down-to-earth woman who could hold her own and a
head-in-the-clouds, simple-minded girl who craved acceptance.

There
were so many facets and dimensions to her personality.

He
didn’t know what to make of her, not anymore.

Uncomfortable,
Adonis shifted to get out of bed when something warm manacled his wrist.

An
emotion tugged at him.

He
carefully unclamped her fingers. The soft, silky texture of her skin gave him a
moment’s pause.

He
was becoming too comfortable with her. He hadn’t tried hard enough to stop the
connection from establishing and maturing. So what now? Cameron had made it
more than clear where he stood on their ‘relationship’.
 

As
if sensing his turmoil, she roused, the dark crescent of her eyelashes
fluttering. The innocent susceptibility of her expression folded, overtaken by familiar
defenses.

For
some reason it bothered him. He wasn’t going to bite her head off.

“How
are you feeling?” she asked, a decent amount of suspicion shoring up her gaze.

“Just
peachy,” Adonis said with far more sarcasm than he intended.

Instead
of countering the attack, Tess pushed herself up. His lungs swiped a shuddering
breath as she crawled towards him. He
froze,
fearing
she was going to tackle him, or worse, kiss him.

His
traitorous mouth trembled at the thought.

But
Tess did neither and tested the heat of his forehead with her palm. “Good. Your
fever broke. Just continue to take the cough medicine, drink plenty of fluids,
and rest up.”

“Thanks,”
he said, the alien word awkward and bulky on his tongue. Something indefinable
built in his chest as he watched her long legs swing over the side of the bed.
“So that’s it?” he blurted.

Her
expression chilled fractionally. “Yes, that’s it. What else were you expecting?
A sponge bath?”

Adonis
scowled. “Why are you being such a bitch?”

“I
spend half of the night practically nursing you back to health and I’m a
bitch?”

“I
said thanks.”

“Of
course because that makes up for all of your character flaws, now doesn’t it?”
Tess picked up her cardigan.

“What
else do you want from me?” he snapped out.

“Hard
as it is to believe, nothing.” She was yelling now. “You think I like walking
on eggshells around you, never knowing what’s going to come out of your mouth
next? You’re like a box of fucking crackerjacks. I never know what I’m going to
get. How the hell am I supposed to act around you? And don’t try blaming all of
this on your being bipolar. I’ve done enough research to know that you’re an
asshole by choice, not genetics.”

“I
didn’t mean—fuck.” He worked his temples, trying to ease the pressure of
his headache, the dull throbbing having doubled ever since she opened her
mouth. “Why do you have to turn everything into an argument?”

“Oh,
so now it’s my fault you don’t know how to carry on a conversation with
people?”

They
each leveled a stony glare at one another. Adonis wanted to forfeit. He was
tired of fighting: her, himself, these feelings.

Just
as he contemplating throwing in the towel, his body made the decision for him.

A
trail of mucus trickled from his left nostril.

For
one mortifying second, they were thrown into silence.

Adonis
quickly swiped at the snot with the back of his hand and felt pinpricks of red stinging
his cheeks.

Tess’s
lips were pressed together so tightly they’d turned white. But her amusement
would not be contained.

Laughter
burst from her in rich, husky peals that made the hairs on his neck twitch.

Apparently
there would be no end to his humiliation.

“Excuse
me for being sick.”

“I’m
sorry,” she gasped and attempted to throttle the rest of her laughter. “Let me
get you some tissue.”

Adonis
didn’t look at her when she offered him toilet paper and roughly wiped his
nose. “Thanks. Again,” he muttered grumpily.

“You’re
welcome.” Vestiges of her previous amusement warmed her voice.

“You
don’t need to gloat.”

“Who
says I’m gloating?”

“Says
that fucking smirk on your face.”

Some
of the warmth faded. “You know Adonis, I’m beginning to think you don’t know
how to talk to the fairer sex.”

“There’s
nothing fair about you.”

“True.”
Her smile withdrew entirely. “About last night,” she hesitated, “Cameron really
told you to stay away from me?”

He
had told her about that, hadn’t he? There wasn’t any point in lying about it
now. Yet, even though his bastard friend did deserve a ball busting, the guy
was still his blood brother. “I was delirious,” he said offhandedly. “How am I
supposed to know what I said?”

Her
expression was unconvinced. “Right. That must be it. Can you call Lydia? I left
my stuff in her apartment.”

“Yeah.
Sure.” He drew his phone from underneath his pillow and dialed his sister’s
number. He frowned when the call dumped straight into voicemail. Adonis tried
her landline. After the seventeenth ring, he disconnected. “She’s not picking
up.”

“Of
course she’s not,” Tess grumbled. “Your sister is the devil, by the way.”

He
resisted the temptation to grin. “She’s one of a kind.” He scratched the back
of his head. “You want a ride back?”

“Nah.
I think I can manage. It’s only eighteen or so blocks.” Tess grimaced.

His
brow whipped up. “Only?”

She
looked torn. “You don’t have to.”

“Ok.
Then walk back.”

She glowered
at him.

“That’s
what I thought.” He walked up to a flat-screen console mounted into the wall
and hit a few keys. After a singular ring, a gruff, distinctly male voice
picked up. “Jeff. It’s Adonis. Have my car ready in five minutes.”

“Right
away, sir.”

By
the time they made it to the parking garage, a black Range Rover idled near the
entrance, the interior already toasty for them.

“What
happened to the Ferrari?” she asked as they climbed in.

Adonis
skewed her with an incredulous look. “Why the hell would I drive a sports car
in the middle of winter?”

“Good
point,” she grumbled and buckled her seatbelt. “I see you’re taking your
medication.”

It
was obvious she’d been sitting on the question for a while. “Yeah.”

“And?”

“What
are you, my case worker?”

“Whatever.
Forget I asked.” Tess faced the window.

The
urge to clarify converged in his gut. What was this girl doing to him? “I don’t
know. I guess I feel calmer,” was all he was willing to admit. Not waiting for
another round of inquisition, Adonis plugged the auxiliary cord into his cell’s
headphone port.

Her
mouth swept upward the instant the heavy riffs blasted from the stereos.
“You’re not like the rest of them.”

He
smirked. “Why, because I listen to
Chimaira
?”

“No,
not only that.” She sighed. “I can’t believe I’m say this, but you seem more
open-minded, freer. Less bound by propriety, if that makes any sense.” Tess
surveyed the passing scenery. “That’s more than I can say about Cameron.”