Chapter Nine
Lia
Lucian has been gone for a week, and I have heard nothing from him. I continue to go to his apartment each day, disappointed when there is no sign he has returned. I have been tempted to make up an excuse to text him but manage to talk myself out of it. Since there is really nothing to clean, I have rearranged his entire CD and DVD collection into alphabetical order. I am just putting the last DVD in place when I hear keys in the door. My body starts tingling, knowing he is near. I reach the foyer just as Lucian walks in. The welcoming smile slides from my lips as I take him in; he looks like walking death. He staggers on his feet as he crosses the threshold, and I rush forward to grab his arm. He seems startled to see me standing there. “Lia…baby, not feeling so good.” Before I can reply, Sam steps out from behind him carrying a suitcase and briefcase.
“Hey, Lia. Our man here has the flu. He spent yesterday in the bed at his hotel before losing his mind and flying home today. I pretty much carried him through the airport and to the car.” By this time, Lucian has put an arm around my shoulders and is leaning heavily against me. Sam sets the luggage down and takes his other arm. “Let’s see if we can get him in the bedroom.”
Between both of us, we were able to easily guide him down the hall. Sam braces him against the wall while I turn the bed down. I stand there uncertainly, wondering if I should undress him. Luckily, Lucian seems to recover enough to sit on the bed and take his shoes and shirt off. I quickly find a freshly-laundered pair of lounge pants and t-shirt and put them on the bed beside him.
“Sam, I’m going to run to the store and pick up some supplies for him. Can you stay until I get back?”
Lucian squints up at me, saying, “No, Sam will take you. Don’t want you going out alone anymore, not safe.” What is he talking about? I thought we had settled the subject of Sam driving me everywhere.
Sam pulls out his keys, obviously agreeing with his boss. “Lia, Lucian has already told me I need to watch out for you. We’ll wait until he’s in the bed and then go. It won’t take long.”
“But I don’t need to be watched, Sam; I’m an adult.” I can tell Sam is uncomfortable being caught in the middle. I also know he will do what Lucian wants; after all, he signs his paychecks.
“Lia,” Lucian rasps out, “Worried about your stepdad, please just let Sam do his job. Too tired to argue about it, baby.” Well, shit, it seems pretty childish to continue arguing over something so minor with someone so sick. We can take up this discussion again when he is feeling better. Sam looks relieved when I nod my head in agreement.
“Okay. Is there anything in particular you need? I’m going to pick up some ginger ale and Tylenol.”
“Sounds good, money in my wallet.” Lucian is already snuggling under the covers. I have enough money to buy what he needs; I certainly don’t plan on going through his pants pockets. Sam follows me out and grins as I open the front passenger-side door instead of getting in the back.
Soon, we are pulling up to a Walgreens. He insists on going in with me and following me around as I fill the cart with drinks and every flu medication I can find. When I toss two boxes of Kleenex in the cart, Sam shakes his head and adds another. “Trust me, that boy is going to need that and more. He damn near blew the windows of the car out with his sneezes on the way home. I should probably go ahead and warn you, too: he is cranky as hell when he’s sick, which thank God isn’t often.”
Rolling my eyes, I mutter, “Wonderful, that’s just what I need to hear.” I wonder if Sam thinks it’s strange that someone who Lucian hasn’t known for long is preparing to take care of him while he was sick. Maybe this isn’t unusual in their world. I am probably one of many who have walked in and out of Lucian’s life. I am dying to ask Sam, but I figure it’s wrong to put him in an awkward position. He insists on paying for the purchases, saying he has an expense account.
When we arrive back at the apartment, Sam carries the bags in while I check on Lucian; he’s moving restlessly but is sleeping. I return to the kitchen as Sam finishes unloading the bags. “I’m going to fix him something to drink and try to get some medicine in him when he wakes. Sam, I’ll be fine here if you want to leave. It’s getting late, and you’re probably ready to end your day.”
“Are you sure, Lia? I’d be happy to stay if you aren’t comfortable handling all this.”
Giving him a smile of reassurance, I say, “I’m fine. If I have any problems, I’ll call you.” I follow Sam out and lock the door behind him. Returning to the kitchen, I fix a glass of ginger ale and a dose of Nyquil Flu and Cold. I am just picking the drink up when I hear a crash, followed by yelling from the bedroom. Heart beating fast, I run in that direction, skidding to a stop as I see Lucian face down on the floor. “Luc! What happened?”
As I drop to my knees and put my hand on his back, I hear, “fuckingfellovermyfuckingshoes.” The words are so jumbled I have a hard time figuring out what he’s saying. The multiple ‘fucks’ and something about shoes, I get. Looking down, I saw his shoes from earlier lying between his feet. Shit, he had tripped. Taking his shoulder, I pull on him, trying to help him up; it’s like pushing a brick wall with a feather.
“Luc, you’ve got to work with me here unless you want to sleep on the floor. I can’t pick you up on my own.” I hear another f-bomb roll out of his mouth before he struggles into a sitting position. I help him lean back on the side of the bed while he regains his strength. His hair is damp and sweaty, and his face is pale. Putting my palm against his forehead, I gasp in surprise at the heat there. I gently smooth his hair back with my hand, whispering, “You’re burning up. We need to get some medicine into you. Can you stand?” In response, a shiver racks his body, making his teeth chatter.
Leaning his head against me, he says, “Cold, baby.” My heart melts. He looks so much like a sick child cuddling against me for warmth. I want nothing more than to put my arms around him and make it all better. I wonder if there is someone who has more of a right than I do to be taking care of Lucian. Surely, Sam would have mentioned that. I harbor no illusions that just because I had slept with him, I am the only woman in his life. Someone who looks like him couldn’t possibly lack for company…ever. I am here, though, and I want…no, I need to be the one to help him.
“Okay, on the count of three, you do your best to stand, and I’ll help. One…”