Strumming my guitar as I walked, I moved over to the window and looked out at the ocean. Yeah, I could write a lot of songs about that girl. And every single one would fail to do her justice.
I froze as Demetri’s car pulled into the driveway. He slammed the door, ran to Nat’s side, opened it and pulled her into his arms. Swear if he hurt her in any way I was going to murder him.
I ran down the stairs just in time to see Demetri open the door and step inside. Nat was pale and lifeless in his arms. Shit, I hated that my first guess was that he drugged her.
“What did you do to her?” I yelled, unable to control my voice because I was freaking out.
“I kissed her! That’s it! We went to dinner and she fell asleep in the car!” Demetri cursed. “Geez, what, you think I drugged her or something?”
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” I grumbled. Fine, it was a low blow.
“What the hell!” Demetri laughed. “Are you kidding me? Seriously? You’re going to bring that up, now of all times?”
I cursed and reached out to touch Nat’s face, she was burning up. “Can you hear me, Nat?”
She moaned and tucked herself further into Demetri’s chest. He looked panic-stricken, totally out of his element.
“We’ll just take her home. She can sleep it off. She’s probably sick,” Demetri said a lot more calm now.
“No, we can’t.” I said in a stern voice. “Her dad and mom decided to extend their date night to a date weekend. They won’t be back until tomorrow night. They kept leaving her messages but her cell phone must have died. Nat’s mom knew you guys were out, so she left a message with me before they took off. They’re gone.”
“So?” Demetri shrugged. Was he really that stupid?
I pulled back from Nat’s forehead and tried to imagine myself not strangling my brother where he stood. “So, if we leave her at her house and she’s this sick, what do you think is going to happen to her? She’s burning up.”
“Oh.” Demetri was quiet for a few minutes. “Does that mean she has a fever?”
I seriously almost went over to the wall and banged my head against it. “Just get some ibuprofen, Demetri, okay?”
“Fine.” He went into the kitchen, opened the pantry and slammed the door. It echoed in my ears making my head pound harder. I focused on opening my eyes and was rewarded greatly for my strain.
He had put Nat on the couch, she looked so frail and helpless lying there and I hated that I couldn’t do anything. “Nat, are you okay?”
“I think so.” Her voice was heavy and groggy. “I don’t feel well.” It looked like she wanted to smile but it came across as a wince instead.
“Aw, sweetheart, I know you don’t.” I rubbed her forehead. “Do you want your fever to go down naturally or do you want some ibuprofen?”
She shook her head and then started to cry. My heart broke over and over again with each tear. Why did her tears make me feel like I was dying?
“Don’t cry, shh, don’t cry.” I gently pulled her to her feet and walked her up the stairs, careful to take most of her weight in my arms. When we reached the bed, I lifted her onto it and laid her down. “You just have the flu or something. You’ll be fine, okay?”
“Promise?” Her voice was so small and trusting. Hell yeah I promise. I’d do anything for her — anything.
I chuckled at her pitiful look. “I promise. And when you get better I may even let you drive my car.”
“Tease.” Her eyes fluttered closed as her breathing evened.
“Got some ibuprofen. What the—” Demetri stopped dead in his tracks. My eyes flickered across his face. He looked angry.
“Don’t you think her boyfriend should be the one in bed with her, Alec?” Demetri snarled.
“Absolutely.” I moved away from Nat. “I’ll check back on you in a few.” I nudged by him and scowled. “Try not to make it worse.”
“Ass,” Demetri mumbled as he slowly approached the bed. I eavesdropped on their conversation. And waited in the hall. Within seconds Demetri stormed by me and ran down the stairs. I knew what he was thinking. God, I thought it every time someone got sick. It was silly but I always went to that place, what if they died? What if they were never the same. A childhood like ours did that to a person.
Once the door slammed shut, I walked back into the room. “He doesn’t like sick people.” Actually Demetri wasn’t a fan of sick anything. When our cat got sick on the tour bus he made us stop at a twenty-four hour vet service just to make sure it was okay. He hated illness. Hated it.
“Clearly,” Nat mumbled and tried to get comfortable.
“Here.” I chuckled and stuffed some pillows behind her back.
“So why doesn’t he like sick people? Is he a germaphobe or something?” she asked.
“No.” I sat on the bed and grabbed a book from the nightstand. “Our mom left us when we were little, and our dad died of cancer a few years afterwards. Most of Demetri’s memories are of the hospital.”
“What about yours?”
I laughed at the nice memory. “Playing checkers with dad when he didn’t feel well enough to walk. Holding his hand when they told him there was nothing else they could do. Reading him books even though I was only ten and probably the worst reader on the planet.”
“I like your memories.” She yawned.