More Than This: Contemporary Christian Romance Novel

by Stallings, Staci

  “You need food.” Without more questions, he went into the kitchen. It was tiny but half-again as big as his. He found cans of soup in one cabinet. Tomato. Cream of mushroom. Next to them were two packages of Ramen noodles. They would start with noodles and work their way up. He grabbed a pan as another round of coughing punctuated the air outside the kitchen. He gave her 12 hours. If she didn’t sound any better by then, he was taking her to the doctor. That was all there was to it.

  Liz drifted in and out, knowing she should be concerned for her safety. After all, she hardly knew the guy, and now, somehow he was somewhere in her apartment. She should go find out where, tell him to go home or something like that. But her lungs and strength did nothing to help her. Her mind told her he was in the kitchen. There were knives in the kitchen. Large ones. If he hadn’t brought one of his own, he could certainly use one of those.

  Nightmarish thoughts wove around her body’s fight for air, weaving stories and scenarios she didn’t want to dwell on. Then again, if he had come to kill her, maybe that would be a good thing. Another cough gripped her, and this one made her head swim. Ugh. Yeah. Death might be preferable to this.

  “Here. Here’s the last orange juice,” he said, materializing somewhere in the haze between the couch and the coffee table. “I’ll go get you some more after you eat something.”

  She should sit up. Somehow she knew that, but no signals were getting to the parts of her that could make that happen. She let out a hard breath, pushed by frustration and humiliation. Her eyes fell closed, and her head fell back onto the pillow so convincingly that she forgot why she was trying to get up in the first place. The haze took over, and she floated on it, wondering what she’d even been thinking about before.

  “Here.”

  And then he was lifting her up, scooping up her shoulders and head so that somehow she came up to rest against him. His arm was around her, supporting her, and she did nothing to fight it off. She couldn’t. All of her strength was gone.

  “Drink this.” He lifted the small can to her lips, and Liz kept herself awake long enough to take a couple small drinks. “I have some Ramen cooking. I found a can of chicken too, but it’s going to take a little bit to get that all together.”

  “You don’t…” But the words rasping out brought another cough ripping through her. She gripped her side where the mind-splitting pain jerked through her. She pressed on it with her hand to make it stop. It didn’t through the whole coughing fit. When the coughing finally subsided, she leaned back into him, spent. Her voice was hoarse, and it hurt to talk. “I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry? No. Don’t be sorry. Are you sure you shouldn’t go to a doctor? I could take you there right now.”

  Right now? She wasn’t even sure when that would be. What time was it anyway? “I’m… okay.” A cough came up, but she got this one swallowed down. Taking shallow, nothing breaths was helping to keep it down. A drink and then another. “It’s just a cold.”

  “Did you take the cold medicine?”

  She shook her head. “I’m out.”

  “No. That I brought for you last night.”

  Liz fought the clawing persistence of the cough. It was coming up again. “No.” She lost the battle. This cough grated over her, shredding everything in its path.

  “You didn’t?”

  “No. I didn’t know you brought any.” She didn’t have time to answer any more before he untangled from her and vaulted off the couch. When he was gone, she was suddenly very cold and with no leaning post, she simply laid over, catching her weight with her face when it met the cushion on the opposite side. If she could just go to sleep and stay there forever, that would be a good thing. She coughed again, but only slightly. This one wasn’t too bad, more like the big cough’s baby cousin. She knew she should be concerned about where he had gone, but that got lost in all of the thoughts she didn’t even recognize. Maybe none of this was real after all. Maybe it was all just one giant illusion. At that moment, it seemed not just possible but highly likely.

  Jake went through the kitchen first, stopping only for a second at the little dining table on his way past. What had the she-wolf roommate done with that cold medicine? It was nowhere to be seen. He stirred the soup once. The noodles were starting to boil. Turning them down, he went back through the living room. He could no longer see her on the couch, and when he checked as he went by, he realized she was now curled up on the opposite side.

  Why hadn’t her roommate made her take the medicine? More to the point, where was it? He went down the hallway, stopping at the first door which was partially ajar. He pushed the door open and stepped into a small bedroom. His gaze swept the room but found nothing. So he went on down the hall. At the bathroom, he stepped in. It was small. Bigger than his but still small. There was bright blue shiny tile on the floor and the walls were all white. It looked cold and hard, like a hospital recovery room.

  Pushing that to the side, he opened the medicine cabinet and found the cold medicine— still in the unopened box. Next to it was the Vicks. What good were they doing her here? He took them out to the living room, stopped in to check the noodles, and to get something to dissolve the medicine in. The coughing started up on the couch again, and it drove through him like a jackhammer. Where was her roommate? You don’t just leave your friend like this.

  “Okay. I found it.” He went back to the couch and found her still laid over. Shaking his head with a low growl of frustration, he pushed the angry thoughts down and knelt. “Liz. Hey. Can you sit up? I brought you the cold medicine, but you have to drink it. Here. Can you sit up and drink it?”

  “Uhhh.” The sound was low and horribly weak.

  “Come on. Here. You have to sit up.” He set the cup down on the coffee table and scooped her up once again. It was awkward trying to hold her up and get the medicine, but somehow he managed it. “Come on now. Drink this. It’ll make you feel better.”

  Her eyes opened, though he couldn’t be sure she even saw him. She looked so out of it.

  “Listen to me, you have to drink this.” He slipped up onto the couch beside her, and she relaxed into him like a rag doll. “Here. Drink. Come on.”

  She came to long enough to take several sips of the liquid.

  “I put just a little sugar in it to take off the edge,” he said, helping her, watching her, supporting her, worried out of his mind that this wouldn’t be enough. “I can put some more in it if you want.”

  A moment and she shook her head slowly but only once. She continued to sip the liquid, and he continued to hold her and watch her. Glad she was at least trying to drink.

  “Good girl. That’s going to help.” His gaze chanced to the coffee table. “And I got some Vicks for your feet.” Careful not to move too quickly, he slipped out from under her and grabbed for the little box.

  “My feet?”

  “It’s an old family thing. My mom was the queen of home remedies.” Gently he removed first one sock and then the other. “It feels kind of weird at first, but it really works.”

  She leaned back into the cushions and took another sip as her eyes fell closed.

  Her foot felt so small in the palms of his hands. He got some Vicks and rubbed it into the soles of her feet, letting his thumbs slide back and forth across her arch.

  “Ow.”

  “Sorry.”

  She pulled forward and took another small sip. “And what’s this supposed to do?”

  He slipped that sock back on. “Make you stop coughing.”

  “Ugh. That would be good.”

  “Tell me about it.” He was working on the other foot now, watching her even as he did. When he got to the knots he knew would be there, he went gently instead of digging into them. After a few minutes, he finished and reached for the sock. “Better?”

  “Hm.”

  Just then he heard something in the kitchen and he knew. “Oh, no.” With no gentle to it, he pulled her sock on and yanked himself up. “I’ve got to go check the soup.�
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  Sure enough, when he slip-slid into the kitchen, the soup was on a rolling boil right over the edge of the pan. “Oh, great.” He shut off the burner and jerked the pan off of it making quite a crash.

  “Are you okay?” she called and immediately collapsed into another coughing fit.

  “I’m fine. Get that down. I’ll have some soup coming in a minute.”

  Liz had no accounting for it. One second she was all alone in the world, the next he was there acting like he’d never been anywhere else.

  “This has some chicken in it too,” he said, bringing the steaming bowl back to her on the couch. This time he sat on the coffee table instead of next to her. Bowl in hand, he spooned some up and offered it to her. “Careful. It’s hot.”

  She leaned forward just slightly, and he got the soup into her. Just as it slid down, the cough jumped on her again, and she squeezed her eyes closed to mash it down. When it left, she let out a breath and leaned forward for another bite. Leaning back felt good, like maybe she wouldn’t go sliding completely off the planet. “I’m sorry,” she said, feeling like a worn-out dishrag. “You really don’t have to do this.”

  “Hey. Don’t worry about it.” He fed her another bite. “It beats the heck out of anything else I’d be doing.” He nodded to the cup in her hand. “Do you want some water to drink now?”

  Looking down at the cup, she realized the liquid in it was gone. “Yeah. I guess.” The kitchen felt a million miles away. If she would’ve had to go there herself, water would’ve been out.

  He took the cup from her, and this time when she leaned back into the cushions, she didn’t fall over. Still they felt better than they probably should have. Resting felt heavenly. In seconds he was back, and she pulled forward enough so she wasn’t buried in the cushions. He handed her the cup, and she lifted it to her lips. The water was very good— cool. She took another sip. When he picked the bowl up, she reached for it and handed him the cup.

  Looking infinitely worried, he let her have it and set the cup on the coffee table. There was no accounting for the worry in his eyes, and such beautiful eyes they were. Sea green mixed generously with blue. The black jeans and T-shirt covered with a white-and-blue overshirt that brought out the laser intensity of his eyes. It was hard not to categorize it all with him so close and looking at her with such deep concern.

  She took three more bites as he watched her like that. It was strange having someone do that— watching her eat from two feet away. Another two bites and she was starting to feel a little self-conscious. She glanced at him, not trusting herself to do more than that. “Thank you.”

  Jake nodded but didn’t say anything, just sat there watching her with his hands folded as he leaned on his knees. After a moment, he let out a worried breath. “Do you need anything else? Crackers? Bread? A lung transplant?”

  The joke took her completely off-guard and the laugh brought up another cough. Instantly he reached for the bowl and steadied it, barely missing her hands, which would surely have sent the remainder of the noodles scattering all over the room.

  His forehead creased. “Sorry. It just came out.”

  Liz nodded, coughed twice more, took a breath, and retook control of the bowl. The soup was actually tasting like something now. She spooned another bite into her mouth. The noodles were good and so was the chicken. She wondered when the last time she had eaten had been. There was no real memory of it. With the back of her wrist, she raked the bush of hair from her eyes. “I didn’t know you were a doctor.”

  “I’m not. I just play one on TV.” His smile was creased with worry but danced softly.

  Laughing made her cough, so she tried not to though it was about to choke her. She nodded and took another bite. “This is very good. Do you play a cook too?”

  He shrugged. “Sometimes. I fill in for Emril when they get desperate.”

  The smile felt good— almost like being human again. “Wow. A doctor and a cook, and you’re still single? However did you manage that?”

  Jake slid his hands down his jeans and sat back, looking a little less worried. “I keep my talents very well hidden.”

  “Oh, so you’re Batman too.”

  “And Robin in my off-hours.”

  She was eating now. For real. “You know, some crackers would be good.”

  He stood without hesitation and readjusted the waistband of his jeans. “Where are they?”

  From this vantage point, he seemed taller. Tall, dark and very handsome. Trying not to giggle, she beat that thought back.

  “Cabinet to the right, bottom shelf.” She continued to eat slowly as he left the room, and then for one brief second she allowed herself to breathe. How had this happened? Where had he come from anyway? This guy. This mysterious guy who seemed to materialize from the shadows and vanish into them just as quickly was suddenly in her apartment, waiting on her, getting her crackers and water and chicken noodle soup. It was just too strange to fully comprehend or understand.

  “There’s some peanut butter in the refrigerator. You want some of that too?”

  She finished eating a noodle, slurping it up. “Sure. There’s a knife in the top drawer.” Life. Breathing felt good. She had forgotten what this felt like.

  When he came back, he had the crackers, the knife, and the peanut butter. Although she was still a bit afraid about the knife, her alert system was settling down. If he was going to kill her, surely he would have done it by now. He sat on the coffee table, popped the peanut butter open and in seconds had a nice little cracker sandwich for her. She ate one, thinking this had to be the best meal she’d ever had.

  “Water?” He handed her the cup he had set on the coffee table as she crunched her way through the crackers.

  “Thanks.” She took the cup and sipped twice. She felt his gaze on her, drilling into her as he watched her every movement as if memorizing them. Two more sips and she handed the water back. She pushed the hair from her face again. “Ugh. I’m a mess.” This cough was softer, but it hurt her side just the same. Shifting, she grabbed for it with a grimace.

  The worry was back on his face. “Are you okay?”

  “Ugh. I don’t know. I think I pulled something in my rib. It really hurts sometimes.”

  His face clouded with even more worry. “Do you want me to take you in? Just to get it checked out?”

  Tired was coming back over her. She drained the bowl, tipping it up to do so, and then laid it on her lap. “No. I think it’ll be okay when I get over this stupid cough.”

  Gently he reached over and took the bowl from her. “How long have you had it? The cough I mean?”

  “A week. I thought I was going to get over it, but it just kept getting worse.”

  “You didn’t take anything for it?” He set the bowl next to him on the coffee table.

  She shook her head. “Mia said I should but…”

  “You should have listened to her.” With everything now back by him, Jake surveyed her. “So you’re here by yourself? What’s her name didn’t stick around?”

  “Becca? Nah. She’s got night class most nights. What is today?” She squinted as if she could see the date stamped somewhere.

  “Tuesday.”

  “Yeah. Tuesday. She has class Tuesdays.” Knowing she shouldn’t, she laid over. It felt very good to just rest.

  “Have you been to bed at all since the other night?”

  Sleep tugged on her eyelids, and she shook her head as she curled up with a pillow. “I think I just crashed where I landed.”

  “Don’t you want to go get into something a little more comfortable than that? Those don’t look much like sleeping clothes.”

  Only then did she notice how binding the jeans were. “I’m fine.”

  “That’s a given, but why don’t you go get changed? I can clean up here, and you can get some real sleep in a real bed.”

  “Hmm.” She was already drifting out.

  “Liz.” His hand was warm when it came to rest on her shoulder.
“Hey, girl. Why don’t you go change? It’ll help you sleep.” He felt so steady under her as he lifted her back to vertical. “Seriously. Get changed and go to bed.”

  She allowed herself to be pulled off the couch until she was standing, half-awake, half-sleepwalking.

  “Go. Change. I’ll take care of this.”

  She looked like the walking dead as she left the room one wobbly step at a time, and Jake wondered if maybe he should have just left her on the couch. But sleeping on the couch with no real pillows and in tight jeans was not the most relaxing set up in the world. She would be more comfortable in a real bed with real pillows and real pajamas.

  He stopped for one more second, holding the dishes as he watched her disappear around the corner. Then he shook his head and went to deal with the dishes.

  Liz plodded down the hallway into her room. She remembered to close the door, mostly because she always did in case Becca and her boyfriend showed up. In the room, she pulled out her lounge pants and an oversized T-shirt. The jeans came off and then the button down and tank top. In seconds they were replaced. The bed called her name, and she complied almost without thinking. He was right. It felt wonderful.

  She should go tell him she was good now, and with that thought, she was asleep.

  Jake waited and waited, but there was no sound from down the hallway. He put the dishes in the dishwasher and cleaned the rest of the kitchen. Then he went out and straightened the living room. He hoped she was all right, but then he had told her to go to bed. Maybe she had. He considered what to do next, planting his hands on his hips as he did so.

  The door presented a real problem. He didn’t have a key, and thus he had no way to lock the thing if he left. His gaze went to the hallway. He couldn’t just leave, but he couldn’t go down there and find her either. Nothing seemed quite right. Nothing except waiting.