Page 29 of Securing the Pucking Rebound

SIENNA

Despite being barely able to hold my own body weight, I can’t stop myself from spinning around and tracking every single one of Calvin’s steps as he walks into my apartment as if he owns it.

My mouth is agape, and my eyes are impossibly wide.

What the fuck is happening right now?

When I woke again, shivering some time before 4 a.m., I honestly thought the whole exchange was a dream. But as the seconds went on and the image of me standing before him at his front door only got clearer, I knew it wasn’t.

I wished it was. But it wasn’t.

Calvin Keller is my noisy upstairs neighbor.

Of course he is.

If I weren’t so sick and useless, I’d laugh.

As if the temptation wasn’t enough when I got the chance to hang out with him in a group. Now, not only does he live in the same building, but he’s literally a floor away, and…and now, he’s in my apartment.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I rasp. If I weren’t so sick, it might sound fierce, but right now, I just sound pathetic.

Probably the exact reason he’s here.

I was a mess last night. There’s no arguing that fact.

He’s here out of pity.

“I wanted to check on you before I headed out. And”—he holds the bag up again—“I brought you breakfast. Oh shit,” he gasps when I wobble on my feet and have to reach out to steady myself against the wall. Abandoning the bag on the kitchen island, he races over and pulls me into his side.

The warmth of his body pressing against me makes me want to sob in relief. When I was sick when I was little, Mom would always have the day off, and we’d spend it snuggling on the couch. His embrace takes me back and makes me wish she was here now.

But sadly, I’d an adult, and apparently, I have to look after myself.

Ugh. Calvin leads me to my couch before giving me little choice but to settle onto it. He steps back, and I can’t help the violent shiver that rips through me.

Spotting a blanket thrown over the back cushions, he pulls it free and then wraps it around me.

“Thank you,” I whisper, snuggling into it.

“Have you taken any meds?”

“Yes.”

“Eaten?”

I shake my head.

“It’s a good thing I’m here then, huh?” he says before hobbling to the kitchen and unloading everything in the bag. I can’t see what it is because his frame hides it all from my view, but I can’t say I’m disappointed as I watch his back muscles flex beneath the thin fabric of his long-sleeved T-shirt.

“Oh, please,” I rasp when he starts rooting through my cupboards in search of something. “Help yourself.”

“Would you prefer to come over here and get it all yourself?” he shoots over his shoulder, a smirk playing on his lips.

My lips press into a thin line, but I can’t maintain it, because my nose starts running like a freaking faucet, and I’m forced to reach for my tissues to stem it.

“Thought so,” he mutters as he continues opening and closing doors until he finds what he wants. “Aha.”

He pulls down a glass before finally locating a bowl.