Rush (Breathless #1)(117)

She was utterly baffled by this side of Gabe. It was a side he’d never allowed her to see—anyone to see.

She went into her apartment, exhausted and miserable. She was convinced she was coming down with something, but she wasn’t sure if it was true illness or whether it was merely a product of too many sleepless nights and her emotional devastation.

By the next morning, she couldn’t deny that she was truly ill. She walked to work and went through the motions mechanically. By the afternoon, Louisa and Greg both were eyeing her with concern, and when she dumped an entire pot of coffee onto the floor, Louisa called her into the back.

She took Mia’s arm and then put her hand to her forehead.

“Good God, Mia, you’re burning up with fever. Why didn’t you say anything? You can’t work like this. Go home and go to bed.”

Mia didn’t even offer an argument. Thank God it was Friday and she wasn’t scheduled to work this weekend. An entire weekend in bed sounded next to heaven. And then she wouldn’t be subjected to whatever Gabe had delivered for the day. She could hide from him and the world and try to sort out this whole mess.

She couldn’t take it anymore. It was a gigantic weight pressing down on her.

She had every intention of taking a cab home, unable to bear the walk in her current state. But as she checked her watch, she groaned. Getting a cab at this hour would be next to impossible. They were all going off duty.

Sighing in resignation, she began the long walk home, cold settling into her bones. She was shaking, her teeth chattering, and the sidewalk blurred in her vision.

It took her twice as long as it normally did, and when she rounded the block and saw that damn billboard, she sighed in relief because it wasn’t far now.

Someone bumped into her and she lost her balance. She nearly caught herself, but then she was bumped from the other side, and she slid to her knees, tears welling. She didn’t even have the strength to get up and she was so close to her apartment.

She buried her face in her hands and let the tears escape.

“Mia? What the hell? Are you all right?”

Gabe. God, it was Gabe. His arm came around her, urging her to her feet.

“Good God, baby, what’s wrong?” he demanded. “Why are you crying? Did someone hurt you?”

“Sick,” she croaked out amid another storm of tears.

Her head hurt, her throat was on fire, and she was so cold and tired that she couldn’t bear the thought of walking another step.

Gabe cursed and then he swung her into his arms and strode rapidly toward her apartment building.

“I don’t want to hear one goddamn word, you understand? You’re sick and you need someone to take care of you. Jesus. What if I hadn’t been here? What if you’d collapsed on the damn sidewalk and no one was around to help you?”

She didn’t say anything and instead buried her head against his shoulder, inhaling his scent. His warmth seeped into her skin, soothing all her aches. God, it had been so long. She hadn’t been warm since he’d left her. Or she’d left him. It didn’t matter, because the end result was that she was alone.

He carried her into her apartment and into her bedroom. Then he rummaged through her drawer and pulled out a warm pair of pajamas.

“Here,” he said. “Get changed and comfortable. I’m going to go make you some soup and get some medicine down you. You’re burning up with fever.”

It took all her strength just to manage the task of getting out of her clothes and into the pajamas. Then she sank onto the edge of the bed, spent and wanting only to snuggle underneath the covers.

A moment later, Gabe returned and he promptly did just that. Tucked her in and bunched the covers around her. He kissed her forehead and she closed her eyes, savoring that brief contact. But he didn’t remain. He positioned pillows so she could sit up to eat, and then he disappeared again.

When he came back this time, he was carrying a cup of soup and two medicine bottles. He shook out the pills into his palm after setting the soup on the nightstand, and then he opened the bottle of liquid cold medicine and poured the right dosage into the small measuring cup.

After making her swallow down the liquid and the pills, he handed her the cup of soup and guided it into her hands.

“How long have you been sick?” Gabe asked grimly.

For the first time she looked at him. Really focused on him. And she was shocked by what she saw. He looked as bad as she felt. Deep shadows under his eyes. There were new lines across his forehead and at his temples. He looked…tired. Exhausted. Emotionally spent.

Had she done this to him?

“Since yesterday,” she croaked. “I’m not sure what’s wrong. I’m just so tired. This whole week. It’s just been too much.”

A shadow crossed his face and guilt flared in his eyes.

“Drink your broth. By then the medicine will have taken effect and then you need to rest.”

“Don’t go,” she whispered as he got up from the bed. “Please. Not tonight. Don’t go.”

He turned, regret deep in his eyes. “I’m not leaving you, Mia. Not this time.”

After she finished the soup, Gabe took it from her and went back to the kitchen. She dug deeper into the covers, a shiver overtaking her. Even the soup hadn’t been able to warm her.

Her eyelids were heavy, and she struggled to keep them open. A moment later, the bed dipped and to her surprise, Gabe slid into bed next to her, his arms wrapping tightly around her.