Kissing Her Crush

by Ophelia London

  “Don’t scratch,” he said, grabbing her hands as she struggled.

  ”It feels like fire ants are crawling on me.”

  “I know.” He squeezed her hands tighter inside his, keeping her still. “But you can’t scratch. It’ll make it worse.”

  She slammed her eyes shut and bucked against him. “Let go. It’s driving me crazy.”

  “Shh-shh.” But she wouldn’t stop squirming to get free, so Luke flattened her to the floor and pinned her hands to the tile. “You can’t scratch—hey!” She tried to knee his junk to get away, which left Luke no choice but to lower himself on top of her. “You can’t, baby. It’s like chicken pox, you’ll scar.”

  “Luke, I’m so not in the mood for love.”

  “You think I am? I want your body, but not when it’s covered in hives.” Well actually he wanted her body so badly he wouldn’t give a damn if it was crawling with real fire ants. But Natalie was suffering and her fever was climbing, he could tell by the heat of her forehead as he pressed his lip to it, gauging the temperature.

  After a good ten minutes of holding her down, she finally stopped thrashing. It was bound to happen, once the fever hit a certain pitch, it would wear her out. The itching wouldn’t stop, though, but she’d be too weak to fight him.

  “If I get off you, I need you to not move,” he said in a calm but stern voice. “Do you have Benadryl?”

  “No,” she said in a sobby whimper.

  “Dammit. Any hydrocortisone cream?”

  “Um…” She tilted her chin toward the linen closet.

  “In there? Okay.” One-handed, he soaked a towel in cold water and the ice. “Sit up, put your hands on your lap.” But as he unpinned her and sat back on his heels, she didn’t move. “Sweetheart, you need to sit up.”

  Finally she did, slowly, miserably. Her chin bobbed like she had trouble holding up her head; it might’ve been from how he’d been restraining her, or it might’ve been fatigue from the fever. He’d find Tylenol next time he was in the kitchen.

  “Put your hands on your lap and I’ll lay this here.” He draped the wet, icy-cold towel over her arms. She didn’t fight him or try to scratch, which he knew was only temporary. In the linen closet, he found a bottle of Calamine lotion and cotton balls.

  “Let me see,” he said, gently taking her chin in his hand to examine her face. When her eyes lifted to his, he could see the fever burning away. He soaked a cotton ball with Calamine and dabbed it across her cheeks. “It’s okay, it’ll help,” he said when she winced. She nodded but began to fidget under the towel. He wasn’t as slow and careful as he applied lotion to the infected areas down her neck and arms, needing to get the medicine on quickly.

  When he was done, he eased her back to prop against the wall. “Does it itch anywhere else?” Her eyes fluttered closed and she rubbed her wrist across her chest. Luke stared at the location and swallowed. All righty, then. He soaked another cotton ball, then slid a finger inside the top of her sundress, pulling it away from her body. He swallowed again when he saw the trail of welts that disappeared into the cup of her strapless bra.

  “Nat,” he whispered. “I’m sorry but I have to…um…” But she barely stirred. Of course he’d do anything to ease her discomfort, so after a steadying inhale, he gently yet clinically applied lotion everywhere it needed to go. He was just relieved she hadn’t scratched any other place he shouldn’t be without her permission.

  “Want to…lay down,” She sounded completely wiped out from trying to shove him away while her body worked overtime to fight the funky rainforest bacteria swimming in her blood.

  Luke had had his fair share of hangovers and knew the most desirable spot was flat on the cool bathroom tiles. So he took her shoulders and was about to ease her to the floor, when she changed direction and her head landed on his lap.

  He gazed down at her, at this miserable, beautiful girl covered in dots of pink lotion, whose dress was twisted around her body, hair tangled on one side, and who was clutching the bottom of his shirt with both of her hands.

  Clutching his heart.

  He stayed with her, allowing her to rest, while allowing himself to unwrap that sealed box in his mind, the one that was supposed to contain and restrain all his feelings for Natalie.

  But they were too strong. He hadn’t even realized how much being with her had changed him…made him happier, more complete. And finally, finally ready.

  When she stirred, he had her sit up and drink some water. Tears clung to the corners of her closed eyes and her bottom lip quivered. She was barely awake, in that feverish stupor between consciousness and sleep. Doing his best not to rub off the Calamine, he scooped her up and carried her to the bedroom.

  It was dark now, but a street lamp outside her window showed the way. He pulled back the covers and laid her on the bed. Her sandals were still on, so he unfastened them and slid them off her feet, the same feet he’d tickled when she’d sat on the fence. He thought about taking off her dress so she’d be more comfortable, but decided against it. One, she’d be mortified in the morning if he did. And two, the first time he saw this woman fully naked was going to be the best night of his life.

  So he did his best to make sure her dress wasn’t constricting her anywhere, then he draped the top sheet over her body. Until her fever broke, and unless she was naked, she wouldn’t need any blankets.

  Enough with the naked talk, Luke inwardly yelled. Nat would punch you in the stomach if she knew what you were thinking.

  He put a full glass of water on the nightstand and was about to leave the room when Natalie stirred, not all the way awake, but in that limbo zone.

  “You’re okay, baby,” he whispered. “Go to sleep.”

  Her body moved under the sheet. Luke hoped she wasn’t about to have a scratching attack. “Stay,” she exhaled in a breathy whisper, one eye opened a crack as she stretched her arm out to him.

  Luke’s chest and heart and head constricted at the same time, squeezed with a desire to take care of this woman who took care of everyone else. “I’ll be on the couch if you need me.”

  “Luke,” she said, her hand reaching for him. He took it and felt the fever invading her body, but the angry welts were already fading. “Stay,” she repeated. She weakly tugged his hand toward her, then with probably all the strength she had, shifted her weight like she was offering to give him room on the other side of the bed.

  He didn’t know what to do. He obviously wasn’t about to take advantage of the situation by hopping into bed with her.

  She tugged his hand again. “Come…here…”

  It was no longer a decision. Keeping every stitch of clothing on including his shoes, Luke sat on the bed, then reclined, resting his head on the pillow. She squeezed his hand and tried to slide over to him, but didn’t have the strength to get far.

  So Luke did it for her.

  Natalie smelled like minty tea, medicated lotion and clean girl sweat. And he loved it all. He rolled to his side and held her to his chest, feeling the moment her body fully relaxed. He listened to her breathe, waking up each time she stirred, as she slept semi-restfully through the night.

  It wasn’t until late-morning the next day that her fever broke.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The inside of her mouth tasted like something had died in there, her skin felt drier than the Sahara, and her abs were so sore it felt like she’d done sit ups in her sleep. And why was her bedroom so bright? Had she fallen asleep with the light on?

  The second she opened her eyes, her head pounded, and when she tried to sit up, the whole room tipped on its axis.

  “Morning.”

  Her focus steadied, and she saw Luke leaning on the doorframe of her bedroom. His hair was more tousled than usual and…wasn’t that the same shirt he’d been wearing at the farm?

  The farm? Luke? In her apartment?

  She closed her eyes and held her head in her hands. “What happened?”

  “Shrooms.”

&n
bsp; “That’s right.” She lifted her chin; her head weighed fifty pounds. “You tried to poison me.”

  “Pretty sure I succeeded in that.” He took a step into the room. “How do you feel? I mean, besides like crap.”

  “Nope, crap sums it up.” He was holding a glass out to her. She took it without question and sipped. Ginger ale. “Thanks,” she said, taking a moment to gauge what effect the first thing hitting her stomach in hours would do. When it felt good, she took another sip.

  By the time she’d finished half the glass, Luke was leaning against the doorframe again. He looked tired and really rumpled, but still oh-so sexy—though her brain had a hard time processing sexy this morning. “You took care of me.”

  “You were raging like the exorcist.”

  “Was not,” she said, hoping like hell that wasn’t the case. Talk about unsexy. She braced her weight on her hands and pushed into a sitting position. Luke’s lips peeled apart. He cleared his throat and looked away, like she’d just caught him in an ogle.

  Still bleary-eyed, she looked down at herself, vaguely remembering she’d broken out in a rash. But except for some dried Calamine lotion, her arms looked clear, so did her chest, and stomach and—

  “Um, why am I wearing nothing but a hot pink bra and matching thong?”

  “Do they match? Hmm, hadn’t noticed.” He smiled, his eyes lazily scanning over her without hesitation.

  Her cheeks burned and flushed. The memory… It was like waking up to the worst alcohol-induced blackout. “What the hell happened last night?”

  “Bad reaction from the mushrooms. And it wasn’t pretty. Well, some of it was more than pretty.”

  She pulled the sheet up to her chin.

  “Relax.” He chuckled. “I didn’t undress you. Ivy did.”

  “Ivy?”

  “I asked her to put you in your pajamas.” His smile twisted. “I guess that’s what she thinks you sleep in. I approve.”

  Ivy. She’d kill her. Well, at least she hadn’t dressed Natalie in the Naughty French Maid costume at the back of her closet, complete with feather duster/whip combo.

  “When was Ivy here?”

  “Few hours ago.”

  “Hours?” Forgetting her state of undress, Natalie flung off the sheet and slid off the bed. “What time is it?”

  “Almost two.”

  “In the afternoon?”

  “I’ll bring you food so you can eat something. Don’t worry, I didn’t make it.”

  “I don’t have time to eat.” She pushed past him. “I should be at the lab. We only have three days left. How could you let me sleep half a day away?” When she entered the bathroom, she stopped in her tracks. The place was spotless and smelled like her lavender all-purpose spray.

  “Did you clean?”

  Luke shrugged. “Not a lot to do at five in the morning.”

  She ran a finger over the top of the commode. “You held my hair back while I barfed, applied Calamine lotion to…I don’t even wanna know where, stayed with me all night, and then cleaned my bathroom?” She laughed quietly and shook her head. “Even though the only reason you came over was to…”

  “That’s not the only reason I came over.” He took a step toward her, and the cool, steady look in his eyes made her feel pin pricks all over her body. “But we won’t get into those other reasons now. First, you need to take a shower. Second, you need to get to the lab right after you shower. And third, I can’t just stand here while you’re only in that.” His glance left her eyes for a split-second. “My head’s about to explode.”

  She squeaked and grabbed for a towel. But the only one on the rack wasn’t large enough to cover even one demi-cupped boob, not to mention 90 percent of her butt was on display.

  Luke’s lazy smile returned. “There’s food in the kitchen—rice, saltines, bananas, toast. Eat something before you get in the shower, and drink as much water as you can. Take something with you to work. Rash is pretty much gone. You should feel even better in a few hours.”

  “Um, okay.”

  He hovered by the door. “Also, Brandon still has your car, so Dexter’s on the way here. He’s driving me home to shower and change. Keys to the Jeep are on your table. First gear can stick.”

  She didn’t know what to say. He’d really taken care of her, thought of everything she’d need. She wasn’t used to that, but she liked it. Oh, how she liked it.

  “Luke, thank you,” she said, her throat feeling tight. The only thing stopping her from jumping his bones was she probably smelled like the bottom of the sewer.

  “You’re welcome.” He turned to leave, but then turned back. “Since we won’t be talking about it until then, don’t forget, we have a date on the twenty-ninth.” His gaze traveled to her skimpy lingerie. “Bring that.” He winked. “See you at work.”

  Natalie was finishing a second piece of dry toast when she got to the lab.

  “Looks like you feel better,” Ivy said, popping squares of chocolate out of their molds.

  Natalie felt a lot better, actually. She’d managed to keep down all the food and water, and only a few little pink bumps dotted her stomach. “You gonna tell me why you dressed my unconscious body in my sexiest sexy-time outfit for Lu—”

  “Nat!” Ivy’s ear-splitting call cut her off, and she shot a look to the back corner. Mark the intern was holding a large beaker while Ken was adding the contents of a syringe. Both were staring at her. Luke was at his desk, also staring.

  “Uhhh,” Natalie said. “M-morning, everyone.”

  “Afternoon,” Luke said, shutting his laptop. Though he didn’t come over, he sent her a look, which she returned, and then an almost telepathic conversation happened between them.

  You’re okay?

  Yes. Thanks to you.

  That’s good. I wish I could kiss you right here, right now.

  Me too.

  But we can’t.

  I know.

  We’ll talk about it in four days. In the meantime, I’m picturing you in that sexy-time outfit…imagining how I’m going to slowly peel it off your body with my—

  “So.” Ivy clapped her hands, shaking Natalie away from Luke’s penetrating gaze. “We’ve been rerunning the sixth test. The compounds are a perfect match. Check it out.” She pointed to the microscope at her workstation.

  Natalie fanned the front of her shirt then grabbed a lab coat, buttoning it as she crossed the room, feeling Luke’s smoldering eyes on her the whole time. She flashed Ivy only the tiniest glance before peering into the lens. “Looks good. Wait, this is the slide from two days ago, why are you—”

  “I’m trying to help.” Ivy’s muffled yet sharp voice cut in.

  “Um, help what?”

  Ivy subtly tipped her chin to the back corner. “You guys were having eye sex in front of the interns,” she whispered. “They’ll be scarred for life.”

  “Oh,” Natalie whispered back, pretending to adjust the slide. “It won’t happen again.”

  “The hell it won’t. I was there this morning. I saw you with him this morning. He called at five a.m. and told me what happened, asked me to stop at the grocery store and bring you sick food. When I got there…well…”

  “What?” Natalie tried to keep her voice low, then “hmm’d,” scratched her head, and took another look at the bogus slide.

  “You kept mumbling his name in your sleep, or your half sleep. I couldn’t tell if you were awake, though you pitched a pretty decent fit when he left the room so I could put you in your PJs—you’re welcome, by the way.” Now it was Ivy’s turned to fake-examine the slide. “The second he came back in, he knelt by your bed, and you grabbed his shirt and yanked him to you like he was a security blanket. He said you were like that all night.”

  “I…” She touched her forehead. “I had a fever.”

  “I’ll say. He sat there with you and stroked your hair while you practically strangled him with your crazy-powerful fever strength. Remind me to never bring chicken soup if you have
pneumonia.”

  “I was strangling him?”

  Ivy smiled. “Didn’t seem like he minded. The man was in heaven. I didn’t know you were a couple.”

  “We’re not.” Natalie couldn’t help sneaking a glance at Luke in the far corner. Not yet, anyway. Warmth and gratitude and other tingly sensations filled her body. “Thanks for your help,” she said to Ivy, pushing the microscope aside.

  “You’re welcome. So,” she said in a louder voice, “what’s next, boss?”

  For the next few hours, they worked fast and efficiently. Luke stayed at his desk, typing like a madman on his laptop. Those fingers… Natalie caught herself thinking, only once or twice, or twenty times.

  It was impressive, even to her, how much they were able to accomplish in just a short amount of time, especially with the schedule cut and other setbacks. At the end of the day, she felt more revitalized than ever, mentally and physically. She’d even eaten half a hamburger.

  Luke was at his laptop as she hung up her lab coat. They were the last ones there. “Feel like an omelet?” she asked.

  He laughed but stayed seated. “I might never eat one again.”

  “I’ve also got rice and mashed bananas. And Calamine lotion.”

  Luke closed his eyes for a moment. “We should probably sleep in our own beds tonight. Sleep,” he repeated. “I know you’re not one hundred percent.”

  “I’m close enough.”

  He laughed again, but it was wrapped around a groan from his chest. “We’ve come this far. You need to stay focused, which means I need to stay out of your way. You’re almost at the finish line, babe”—he cleared his throat—“Natalie, I mean.”

  She loved the familiarity of a pet name coming from him. Luke was no longer the fantasy boy she had a crush on. They had real feelings for each other now. Though she might’ve been in denial about facing a long-distance relationship, she knew she had to try…because she had a sneaking suspicion she was happier with Luke than without him.