An Ounce of Hope (A Pound of Flesh #2)(84)

Grace snorted. “Thanks.”

He shrugged. “Just keeping it real. If it’s any consolation you look a damn sight better than you did.”

Grace sighed, grimacing with each movement. “Was I run over by a truck?” She ran her hands through her hair but froze midway through. “Oh God, I was sick. I was sick a lot.” Her face was instantly mortified. “Max, that’s twice you’ve cleaned me up while I was spewing.”

“Tell me about it,” Max replied earnestly. “It’s a good thing one of us has a strong stomach.”

She looked like she was going to cry. Max couldn’t have handled that again. Once was bad enough. It had damn near broke his heart when, in her fever-riddled haze, she’d asked for her mother.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Oh, stop,” Max said with a breath of amusement. “It’s fine.” He took a deep breath. “Although, I have to admit, I was severely disappointed that you weren’t wearing that red underwear again when I stripped you.”

Grace’s eyes widened. “Stripped me?”

“Mmhm,” Max hummed, stretching; he caught her stare on his bare chest. “For the shower.”

“Shower?”

Max chuckled and nodded. “Together.” He winked. “Shame you were too ill to remember.”

“Amen,” Grace sighed, looking decidedly disappointed.

“Well, there’s always next time.” Max grinned. “Do you still feel sick?”

At his words, a loud gurgle emitted from Grace’s stomach.

He cocked an eyebrow. “Hungry?”

Grace looked around herself. “Water?”

Max gestured toward the side table next to her, where there sat a large glass of water, a bottle of Gatorade, and a couple of white tablets. “It’s just Tylenol. The doctor wanted to give you a shot of something but I didn’t know if you were allergic or whether it would f*ck with your meds, and I didn’t much fancy a trip to the ER, so we just gave you some ibuprofen and Tylenol to bring your temperature down.”

Grace finished the whole glass frowning. “Doctor?”

Max smiled. Yeah, she’d been totally out of it. “I called Aunt Fern, who called the doctor. Just a forty-eight-hour thing. He said you’ll be fine. Thank God.” He yawned. “I don’t think I could handle sleeping here again with all of your damn twitching and mumbling.”

It’d been like sleeping inside a damn washing machine and Max was genuinely surprised he didn’t have more bruises. Initially, he’d grabbed a couple of blankets and bunkered down on the love seat, giving Grace the space to flail and turn in her bed. But, after a while, she’d started to cry out in her sleep, muttering nonsense that kept him awake for more than an hour. Tired and cranky, he’d scrambled into bed with her just after midnight and soothed her until her fever broke. As she had been after her panic attack in the bar, she was calm only when he was next to her, touching her. A fact that made something feel warm deep in his belly.

Grace looked at him, aghast. “What the hell was I say— Are you joking?”

He shook his head. “It was gibberish, mainly. Then it was about how awesome you think I am, how you can’t live without me—” He laughed when Grace swatted weakly at him. It was almost the truth, though he’d never tell her. She’d slurred a few times as she snuggled into him about how much he meant to her, and how pretty he was. The former made parts of Max twitch in discomfort but the latter made him chuckle and shush her until she was snoring softly. Then the next bout of fidgeting and fighting with the covers would start.

Grace smiled, appeased, the worry fading from her eyes before she frowned. “Wait. What day is it? I have to work.”

“Monday. I’ve been here since Sunday morning, when you didn’t show for our run. And don’t worry, I called Holly.”

She exhaled, relieved. “Thank you. Shouldn’t you be at work?”

Max shook his head. “Uncle Vince said I could play hooky, to make sure you were still breathing and shit. Besides, he owes me.”

“He does?”

Max took a deep breath and licked his lips. “Josh and I with a few of the other guys are helping him on a job in Philly. A friend of his got behind schedule on a build and . . . we’ll be staying there to get it done faster. It should take about a week, maybe ten days.”

Grace blinked, her teeth worrying her bottom lip a little. “Oh.”

Max wasn’t sure why he’d felt guilty when his uncle had asked for his help and he’d said yes and why now, when he told Grace, he felt it again. “Yeah, we go on Thursday morning bright and early.” He tried to smile. “Hey, just think of all the peace and quiet you’ll get while I’m away.”

Grace breathed a small laugh but it fell flat between them, settling with a heavy silence that covered them both like a blanket. Max fidgeted at her side, the need to say something fighting with the urge he had to hug her. Her next question relieved him of doing either.

“How did you get in here?”

Shit. Max had been hoping that somehow that question would have passed her by. “Your hide-a-key.”

Grace frowned. “But only my brother and Ruby know about that.”

Max shifted nervously. “Yeah, about that, look, don’t be mad at her, okay?”