7.

I woke with the feeling that I couldn't breathe.

I bolted upright and grabbed at my neck.

A loose thread from my clothes had wrapped around it.

I let out a breath and carefully started getting dressed.

The moment I sat up straight, dizziness hit me. My hands and feet ached.

I touched my forehead.

Burning.

I had a fever.

Even the cheapest fever medicine cost money.

Forget it.

I found some ibuprofen in a drawer. No idea how old it was. I swallowed two tablets anyway.

Then I put on my coat and went out.

Adrian's business card went back into my pocket.

Later, I thought I shouldn't have brought it.

The thing was obviously cursed.

Everything I didn't want to happen happened.

Of all the places my delivery could have taken me, it took me to Mercer Industries.

It had been raining a lot that winter.

I'd rolled up my pants to keep them dry. A few loose folds of fabric hung above my calves, and water dripped from my raincoat.

I looked like a walking mop.

I prayed I wouldn't run into Adrian.

Apparently the universe couldn't take a hint.

The second I made the wish, there he was, stepping out of the elevator surrounded by people.

I turned away in a panic and tried calling the customer again.

Pick up. Come on.

The phone just kept ringing.

No answer.

I set the food on the reception desk and pointed my phone at it for a delivery photo.

Then I hunched my shoulders and hurried away.

The receptionist called me back.

"Sorry, you can't leave food here. You'll have to call them and ask them to collect it."

My temper flared.

I rushed back, pitching my voice low and sharp.

"Why not? Every other building lets me leave it at reception."

She looked uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry. It's company policy. You need to ask the customer to come down."

"They're not answering!"

I was getting anxious.

Our little argument was already drawing looks.

I didn't know whether Adrian had noticed.

My heart pounded.

Cold sweat ran down my back.

My head felt unbearably heavy.

I gritted my teeth and kept going.

The receptionist looked frightened by my expression, but she still wouldn't take the food.

I swallowed my anger.

I should have just left it downstairs.

Except if the customer complained, I'd lose money I couldn't afford to lose.

Yes, going broke had made me cheap. Petty. Careful with every cent.

I'd even haggled with the guy who fixed my scooter.

This entire building had it in for me.

The thought made me angrier.

Blood rushed to my head, bleaching the edges of my vision white.

I couldn't think about it anymore.

My next delivery was almost late.

There was no more time to waste here.

I stepped forward to take the food back.

My head suddenly became impossibly heavy.

I pitched forward.

The reception desk tilted. The floor rushed toward me.

There were startled voices and confused footsteps.

I saw the panic on Adrian's face.

"Julian!"

Then I fell into a warm pair of arms.

8.

So thin.

The man in Adrian's arms felt like a handful of bones, all sharp edges wherever he touched him.

Adrian's heart lurched.

Then he noticed the unnatural flush on Julian's face.

He sucked in a breath, turned, and carried him straight to the parking garage.

He drove him to the hospital.

He wanted to push the accelerator through the floor.

He didn't even notice that his hands were shaking.

One hundred and three point five.

Almost one hundred and four degrees.

They brought the fever down and put in an IV.

A nurse wheeled Julian away.

Adrian stood where he was, staring after him.

An inexplicable panic gripped him.

His mother had died of pneumonia after a high fever.

He pressed his lips together until they hurt, then followed.

When I woke again, the room around me was unfamiliar.

I sat up, distracted by the faint sting where the IV had been in the back of my hand.

I looked around.

Medicine and warm water sat beside the bed.

There were a few candies too.

I picked one up and gave a quiet laugh.

The kind I used to like.

I'd been a difficult kid. Too fussy to swallow pills. They had to be crushed and mixed with water.

I hated the bitterness and refused to take them anyway.

Adrian would sweat with worry, then coax me through it with candy.

One mouthful of bitter medicine. One piece of sugar.

Now, though...

I snorted.

Did he still think I was a child?

I hadn't needed that in a long time.

My nose stung, but I forced the feeling down.

I picked up my slightly damp shirt from beside the bed, put it on, and went out.

I didn't know how long I'd slept.

Outside, it was dark.

Adrian hadn't turned on the living room lights.

He sat alone on a stool at the kitchen island, drinking under a dim little pendant lamp.

His head was lowered. His fingers rested loosely around the rim of the glass as he rocked it back and forth.

After a while, he tipped his head back and drained the amber liquid.

Only then did he see me by the door.

His voice was rough.

"You're awake. Did you take your medicine?"

He stood and came over, raising a hand toward my forehead.

I stepped back.

His hand stopped in midair.