Sweet Sunshine by Jessica Prince

Author:Jessica Prince [Prince, Jessica]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Jessica Prince
Published: 2016-05-28T04:00:00+00:00

Chloe

CHILLS THAT WRACKED my body woke me from a fitful sleep. My eyes opened to the dark room, only lit by the moonlight pouring in through the glass doors. The view I’d appreciated so much just hours ago was the furthest thing from my mind as the fever I thought I’d broken earlier came back with a vengeance.

With a groan, I pushed up and shuffled across the bed in an attempt to reach the bottle of Tylenol on the nightstand. My hand landed on the cold wood at the same time my head fell back down to the pillow. It felt like my own body was fighting against me, too weak to do something as simple as hold my own damned head up.

I smacked my palm against the top of the nightstand as I blindly searched for the pill bottle, letting out another pained groan as my fingertips hit the plastic, sending it skittering to the ground.

“Damn it,” I cursed, trying to will my limbs to actually cooperate. I really was a shit patient. I had already managed to convince myself I was knocking on death’s door, throwing myself a pathetic pity party as I did a mental calculation of how I’d divvy up all my belongings between my loved ones. I’d just decided to hell with it when the bedroom door came swinging open.

“Sunshine?” Derrick’s deep, sleep-gruff voice broke through the silence of the room. “You okay?” I let out another groan and felt the bed dip under his weight seconds before his hand rested on my forehead. “Shit, you’re burning up.”

He fumbled around near the nightstand for a moment before soft yellow light filled the space. I was hit right then by the sight of a chiseled, shirtless Derrick, wearing nothing but a loose fitting pair of sleep pants that sat low on his waist. The sight would have overwhelmed all of my senses had I not been delirious with fever. From the rattling sound, he’d located the Tylenol bottle on the floor and popped it open. He shook two capsules out, snagged the glass of water and leaned over me. “Open up. You need to take this to break the fever.”

I didn’t bother arguing. My lips parted far enough for him to dump the meds into my mouth, and, with his now-free hand, he cupped the back of my neck and lifted me up high enough to bring the water glass to my lips. I sucked it back and let out a sigh as he lowered me back to the pillow.

“When I die,” I started on a whine, “my recipe book for all my pastries is in a box on my closet shelf.”

“Sweetheart, you aren’t dying.” I could hear the smile in his voice, but I’d already squeezed my eyes closed.

“Don’t argue. This is important,” I said as my body trembled against the chills of my fever.

“All right,” he said, his voice telling me he was simply humoring me, despite me being completely irrational. It was amazing how, even on my deathbed, I was able to read all of that from just those two words.

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