Page 32 of Kickoff

She pinched her lips together and averted her eyes before changing the subject. “Mase. Thanks. For taking care of me. You don’t have to, but still, I appreciate it.”

“I’m sure you would do the same for me. Go to bed. Now. Nurse Pierce says so, and you gotta listen.”

With small, slow steps, she disappeared upstairs, and I used the time to go home to shower and change after I sent Coach a message about missing practice and texting my brother so he wouldn’t search for me.

“Mmm, it smells delicious,” Melinda said when she joined me in the kitchen and sat on a stool two hours later. I watched her from the corner of my eye. Her damp hair was loose over her shoulders, the tips soaking parts of her violet oversized T-shirt. Even dressed down and sick, she still looked like the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen, a vision my body had a hard time resisting.

“Good, you’re up.” I turned to fully face her, a ladle in one hand and her mother’s raspberry-pink Kitchen Queen apron tied at the waist. Earlier, I had changed into a pair of washed-out jeans riding low on my hips and a simple white T-shirt.

“Oh, wow. While I was out of it, you’ve turned into a stay-at-home nurse slash chef. Tell me I’m sleeping and this isn’t real.” She did her best to keep a straight face but failed because her mouth turned up at the corner as she stared at me.

“Not a dream. I’m right here. I thought of going shirtless, but since you’re sick, I thought my awesomeness would be too much and could blind you, but I can fix it if it helps you to get well faster. After all, I caught you ogling me earlier.”

She poked her tongue out, and I winked, loving the light blush coloring her cheeks.

“By the way, I came to check on you half an hour ago, and you were snoring.”

She propped her elbows up on the counter and buried her face in her hands before watching me through her fingers. “Mase, you are incorrigible. You can keep the shirt on. And just to set the record straight, I don’t snore. And I didn’t ogle you earlier.”

“If you say so. Anyway, when you’re done lying to yourself, I wanna inform you that I made soup if you’re hungry. Chicken and noodles. My specialty.”

“You did? You cooked for me? It’s not from a can?”

“Don’t underestimate your nurse, Shepard. I’m the real deal. Anyway, it’s nothing major. My mom gave me a few pointers when I went home to shower quickly and grab my overnight bag with a change of clothes. She had some leftover chicken and said we could have it. All I did was chop veggies and make a broth.”

“You made a broth?”

“Yeah. I’m a man of multiple talents. It’s about time you catch up with the fact.”

“I never doubted it, but I’m still impressed. Your mom was okay with your spending the night here? Something we still need to agree on, by the way.”

“She said she’d raised trustworthy men who took care of those important to them and she was proud I was skipping practice and sleeping over if it meant making sure you were okay. She also told me to use condoms if you and I were sexually active.”

The blush on her cheeks turned into an adorable shade of crimson. “Mase. Huh… It’s not like that. What did you tell her?”

“That you and I were friends and that I was here as Nurse Pierce and nothing else.”

She blew out a breath. “I won’t be able to look your mother in the eye ever again. This is embarrassing.”

I moved closer and held her hands in mine. “No reason to feel embarrassed. Nothing to lose sleep over, okay? Just for the record, I’m putting it here. I always wrap it up, so my mom has nothing to worry about.”

“Thanks for this very personal piece of information I never requested.”

I curtsied. “You’re welcome. Back to business. How are you feeling? Did that nap help with the headache?”

“Yeah. I’m still lightheaded, but I’m actually starving.” Her stomach grumbled as if on cue. “The medicine did wonders for the fever, though.”

“Awesome. Do you feel like eating? Soup is usually my go-to food when I’m sick. I also filled the refrigerator with a collection of sports drinks and ginger ale, just in case.”

“Wow. You thought of everything.”

“I tried.” My face felt warmer as she watched me with something close to admiration.

“Sports drink. Until I’m confident I can tolerate real food.”

“Purple or pink?”

“Wow, I have a choice?”