Falling, Fallen: A New Adult Steamy Romance by MJ Masucci

Author:MJ Masucci [Masucci, MJ]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: MJ Masucci
Published: 2023-09-07T16:00:00+00:00

By Thanksgiving evening, I was hacking away, and my head felt like I was swimming. I was sick, and after I finished dinner, I went to my room to take a nap. Not long after, I started shivering and pulled the extra blanket I had at the bottom of the bed over me. It didn’t help.

“Ryker, can I come in?”

I coughed, and before I could answer, my mother came in without an invitation.

“You sound horrible,” she noted, putting a cool hand on my forehead as I shivered again. “I told you that you would get sick. You’re burning up. I want to take your temperature.”

“I’m fine. I just need rest.”

That admission was followed by another series of hacking coughs, which set my head ringing with pain.

“You need more than rest,” she pressed.

She slipped into Mom mode and ran to get a thermometer. I dutifully let her care for me because it would do no good to protest.

“Were you sick before you got home?” she asked.

“I was fine this morning.”

“You shouldn’t have gone running,” she repeated.

She sat on the bed while we waited for the thermometer to register my temperature.

“One hundred two,” she reported. “You stay in bed. I’m getting you some aspirin and tea. You should change into your pajamas. You can’t sleep in your clothes.”

“I don’t have any pajamas. I sleep in my boxers.”

“Then wear a pair of sweats.”

Mom got up from the bed and left my room. I groaned as I sat up because it felt like a drum solo was playing in my head. I was unsteady as I stood up to get dressed. I stumbled to my closet and dug out some clothes I had left here years ago. The t-shirt and sweats I put on were tight. I had filled out since I last wore them. I was in bed when my mother came back with aspirin and a cup of tea with honey.

She handed me the pills first, and I dry-swallowed them before I took a sip of hot tea. It soothed my raw throat, but the steam caused me to cough again. My father entered my room a minute later and got a bottle of water from my refrigerator, which he placed by my bedside.

“You sound horrible, kid,” he said. “I think you’ll be in bed until you fly home.”

“My flight is on Sunday morning,” I croaked.

“Then rest for the next couple of days,” he replied. “You might have to change it if you don’t feel well.”

“I have a project to finish. I don’t want to disappoint Mr. Chang.”

“I’m sure he’ll understand,” he said.

“Let’s see how I feel by Saturday night.”

“Ryan, I think we should stay home tomorrow,” my mother said.

“No! Stop babying me. If you have plans, then go,” I insisted.

“We can cancel,” she reassured. “It’s not important that we shop all day. We were going to see the Benningers and have lunch.”

“Please do not cancel,” I stressed. “I’m an adult, and I’ll be fine.”

“We’ll decide in the morning,” she compromised. “We have to leave early, so if your fever is still high, we stay home.

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