I narrowed my eyes. “You’re hiding something.”
“No.” She crossed her arms. “You’re just projecting onto me.” She sighed. “Look…can we talk about this? Talk about what happened here? Discuss everything when you’re not drunk?”
“I’m not drunk.”
She sneered. “I’m drunk just from kissing you with the whiskey on your lips.”
I stiffened. “I didn’t ask for company.”
“And I didn’t ask to be attacked.”
We glowered at each other.
Slowly, her spine relaxed, and she spread her hands in surrender. “I’m your friend, Jacob. You asked for one, remember? And I wouldn’t be your friend if I didn’t offer a shoulder to cry on.”
“I’ve always hated that figure of expression.”
“Okay then…a sounding board. A—”
“Therapist?”
She squirmed. “If that’s what you want.” Another tiny cough escaped her. She flinched as I automatically shifted toward the exit. I was powerless against that trigger.
A cough equalled running.
The override button was missing.
“I don’t need a therapist.” I forced myself to stay in the stable, begging her not to cough again so I didn’t embarrass myself further. My argument about not needing therapy wasn’t holding up with the way I currently acted.
God, I wanted more whiskey.
“Tomorrow.” She came slowly toward me, her boots gathering pieces of hay on her journey. “Please? If you don’t want to talk, then perhaps we can try kissing again. Next time, maybe we’ll be a bit more controlled, unlike the past two attempts.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose, the world swimming. “There won’t be a next time. This was another mistake.”
She sucked in a breath but nodded. “Okay. But at least…we’re still friends. And friends talk. I’m willing to listen to whatever you want.” Moving toward the exit, she opened it before turning to face me. “I’m sorry, Jacob. Sorry for coughing and ruining tonight. I won’t do it again.”
I wanted to be normal.
To laugh at my idiosyncrasies and apologise for my behaviour, not hers.
She had nothing to apologise for.
Coughing was a part of life—just like so many elements I couldn’t seem to handle.
But she slinked from the stable before I could find my tongue.
And I was back to being miserable and alone.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Hope
* * * * * *
I LIED TO Jacob yesterday.
I stared directly into his eyes and lied.
He’d sprung me with a kiss. He’d taken my heart and left me ruined.
And in return, I’d probably given him the same virus currently taking over my immune system.
The flu.
I didn’t know if sleeping outside when camping had chipped away at my defences or if the early morning starts had drained me, but yesterday, I’d woken with a stuffy head and scratchy throat, and today, I fought a fever with an ever-growing chesty cough.
I’d gone looking for Jacob last night to say I needed a couple of days off before I got worse.
I wasn’t going to tell him I was sick…just that I needed to catch up on my studies with Keeko.
But that was before I’d found him drunk and drowning, and I couldn’t keep my distance. I’d known the risk that I might cough. I’d battled the aches and fever as I’d done my best to talk. I’d tensed each time he studied me too closely and tried not to sniff back the sickness swiftly taking over my control.
And then what had I done?
In a moment of kissing insanity, I’d coughed and then requested we talk. I’d badgered him into accepting a date. With me. Today.
A date, or more like a counselling session, that I couldn’t attend because I was so, so much sicker than before.
I’d woken this morning with congested sinuses, heaving coughs, and a temperature that made every muscle beg for relief.
Della had kindly given me some cold and flu meds, made me gargle with salt water, plied me with lozenges, then put me back to bed. She said she’d tell Jacob I wouldn’t be working today and stood in my doorway with the saddest expression. “You know you can’t be around him sounding like that, don’t you?”
My shoulders rolled, slouching into the pillows. “I know.”
“He won’t react well.”
I nodded.
I’d seen how he reacted in the diner.
I’d watched The Boy & His Ribbon and understood a cough was not just a cough to Jacob.
I covered my mouth as I hacked, wet and long. “I probably made him sick.”
“I doubt it. He has a robust immune system.” Della smiled.
My cheeks heated for other reasons than fever. “I, eh…he kissed me last night.”
Her eyebrows rose. “Did you kiss him back?”
I bit my lip, nodding. “I asked to see him tonight. To talk about…what happened.”
She pushed off the doorframe, coming to sit on the edge of my bed—of her son’s bed. “You won’t be better by tonight, Hope.”
“I know.”
“You’ll have to stay away until you are. Otherwise, whatever progress you’ve made this summer will be for nothing.” Patting my hand, she sighed. “I can’t tell you what it means to me that he’s accepted you as a friend. I’ve always wanted him to have someone. And I’m glad it’s you. Glad he has someone looking after him when I’m not able to. It gives me peace knowing you’re there for him.”