Only Yours

26. Rough and Tender

Tamina

Coming to the end of the last chapter I've been given, my mind races with the what if's. During my reading, Lucius had been on his phone, and when he hadn't, his eyes were on me when my guard lowered at the comfortability of reading and silence. At one point, he even excused himself carefully after needing the bathroom. In between, he made a few comments, and I'd let a few thoughts slip, allowing him to know my progress, and I think he's shocked that I'm going at the pace I had been because he let me continue with fewer words.

"Thoughts?"

Carefully handing him the manuscript, I clear my throat and reply, "The style is fresh and clear in the layout of their world building. The characters are unique, and differentiate from the other, but I'm not sure if I can say this will make a good novel yet without the rest of the work because there's no character drives yet or a plot on where the story is going for the characters other than the plot itself pushing them."

Scrubbing his jaw with an amused grin, his eyes shine with something I'm unfamiliar with. "That's very good. I had a feeling you would be able to assess this with a clear head."

My cheeks tingle at the compliment, and my shoulders hitch nonchalantly. "It's nothing, I've just read a lot of books, that's all. Anyway, I think that's us wrapped up, don't you?"

Lucius has the audacity to laugh, and I'm left folding my arms in a broody manner while remaining speechless. As if sensing my change in mood, he offers, "Have you eaten?" and it throws me off guard.

When his fair brow hitches at my lack of response, I turn away and my fingers fret the fabric of the blanket as I whisper honestly, "Not yet, the thought of eating made my stomach turn."

He rises from his seat and never let's go of my legs until it's time to settle them on the sofa, and my eyes are quick to follow his every move until his eyes lock onto mine. "I'll make you something, nothing big in case you can't keep it down."

Furrowing my brows at him, I'm unable to stop my voice from sounding dubious. "What do you want in return? Honestly, don't bother."

Lucius' quirk of the lips rubs me the wrong way, and when he says, "Can't I just cook for the sake of it?" has my thoughts stirring.

"Um. . . well, OK, fine—just remember that you said there's no payment involved!" I exclaim, coughing deeply for a moment and wheezing at the end before I'm nestled into the groove of the sofa. "Thank you," I huff out softly, turning my face away so I don't have to see whatever expression may be taking up his face.

The sound of his retreating footsteps pulls a relieved sigh from me, and my fingers work to retrieve my phone, and read the messages over and over until the urge to give into sleep kicks in. Setting the device down on the coffee table, my body heavily sinks into the sofa before my eyelids drift shut and sleep consumes me.

The scent of chicken is the first thing to registers, and the second is the warm hand pressing to my forehead. An embarrassing groan comes from me, but there's no humour in the eyes that stare down at me, only intrigue and concentration.

"You've got a fever."

Weakly pushing myself up into a sitting position, my eyes stray to the bowl and glass full of water. "Did you make this?"

"From scratch, you didn't have anything in so I nipped out. You were down for quite some time," he notes, eyes narrowing. "Have you taken any medication?"

Nodding my head, I list off the two paracetamols I'd taken this morning and thank him earnestly for going through the trouble of shopping and making this for me. My heart sinks at the smile he gives me, it's playful, mysterious, and it promises trouble, and I'm afraid that's what this is going to bring. If Brandon—