The Life Of A Crazy Girl And Her 10 Brothers

Being Emotionally Inept Is My Best Subject

I froze. Maybe I can pretend I'm dead. Killed by the fever. Or maybe I passed out. His blush was already fading as his eyes turned serious.

He'd chosen a moment when I couldn't run. My pangs and aches prevented me from going anyway. Sneaky bastard.

"No," I muttered, picking at my blanket.

"Really?"

I cringed. He sounded so surprised, I felt a pang of guilt shoot through me. "I don't hate you."

He knelt by my bedside and pulled the blanket from my hands. "Then, why do you always look so mad at me? Why do you always argue with me?"

He needs a blindfold, I decided. Or a mask. His eyes pleaded for answers and his face was wringing honesty out of me. That face is too dangerous. Arrest this man.

I swallowed. "Because you're an idiot. And you cockblock me half the time."

"Like yesterday?" he said, sharply.

My eyes darted to his, finding he looked vaguely surprised, as if he didn't know why he'd said that either.

"No, you didn't cockblock me yesterday," I said carefully watching his expression. "I just forgot about you."

Dark eyebrows drew together and knuckles turned white as he clenched my blanket. "Am I that forgettable?"

I shook my hand, trying to wave his way of thinking away. "No! No, that's not what I meant! I—"

When I couldn't come up with anything, the corner of his lips tightened. "You what?"

"I just wasn't thinking about you," I finished weakly, peeking at his face.

There was a small, thoughtful silence from him as I waited, apprehension sliding through my stomach. What the hell? Do I really care about what his reaction is going to be? I blinked. I definitely did care about it. Why?

"So," he started, and I jolted, noticing how low his tone had gone, "you weren't thinking about me, so you forgot about me?"

"Yes?" I said, hesitant to see where this was going. Something seemed slightly off. His tone of voice, for example. The way his eyes were meeting mine, pinning me to the bed with their intensity. The way his hands had relaxed their clenching, and the way they were crawling up to wrap around mine.

Warm, distracting hands rubbed my knuckles as dark eyes pulled me in. "That means I have to make sure you're thinking about me all the time, so you'll never forget me again, right?"

When I didn't answer, he squeezed my hand. "Car?"

I yanked myself from the trance his warm hands and syrupy voice had hypnotized me into and scrambled for an answer."I, uh, sure. Yeah, what you said."

A soft smile took over his features and in that moment, I felt my fever rise. My body was heating up, and I tugged my hands from his to press a cool hand to my flaming cheeks.

His face was off limits, so I settled for staring at his hands and as we sat in silence for a hot second, a thought occurred to me when he tried to speak.

"Are—"

I held up a finger, silencing him with a frown.

He fell silent, staring with watchful eyes.

"Is," I hesitated, but decided to go for it, "Is my face red?"

He nodded slowly. "Yeah." He placed the back of his hand on my forehead, his hand chasing me when I pulled away. "Your fever seems like it's gone up."