“I’m fine.”
His emotionless tone and the way he stared at my chest told me he wasn’t fine, but I had no idea what to do or how to help him.
The lingering rage from driving up and seeing that guy holding his arm simmered under the surface of my skin. What the fuck had happened?
My palms itched with the urge to go hunt him down and beat his sorry ass for even daring to touch him. I needed answers, damn it, but Eli wasn’t in any shape to give them. Not now.
“Stay here while I go check the laundry.”
Eli snapped his eyes up, and a flare of life came back to them. “I’m fine.”
“Okay. Let’s go see what the fuck is going on.”
As I led him to the back of the house, he fell into step behind me.
“Oh shit.” In front of the laundry room door was a giant puddle of water. “Stay back. I need to turn off the power supply.”
“Already did it.” He gripped the back of my shirt.
I swept the flashlight through the room, making sure there weren’t any hidden surprises, and pulled my keys out of my pocket.
It took a moment to get the door to the water heater closet unlocked, and I pushed it open.
A blast of cold water hit me in the face. “Fuck!”
I stepped in front of Eli to shield him. The cold water pipe connected to the top of the water heater had burst and was spraying the tiny space with water.
It was spectacular as far as leaks went. The pressure from the burst pipe was forcing the water to spray around like when you put your thumb over the end of a garden hose.
Lifting my arm in front of my face to shield my eyes from the worst of the water, I went up to the appliance and found the shut-off valve. I wrenched it closed, but since it was the pipe and not the actual water heater leaking, it didn’t do anything to stop the spray.
I needed to shut down the main water supply. Shit. Where was it?
I racked my brain as I tried to recall the floor plan of the house. Every house I looked after was different, and I hadn’t thought to check in my haste to get over.
“What?” Eli asked.
“We need to shut off the main water supply.”
Please don’t let it be in the crawlspace under the house. The last thing I wanted to do was crawl around under the house in the dark during a storm.
He grabbed my arm and pulled me away from the closet. “It’s under the sink.”
“Thank fuck.”
We rushed into the kitchen, and I fell to my knees in front of the sink. I yanked the door to the cupboard open and shined the light inside. The valve was to the left of the drain pipes, and as soon as I’d closed it tight, the sound of rushing water died.
Blowing out a breath, I stood and turned back to Eli.
Shit. He was shivering. His lips were tinged with blue, and his skin was chalky white.
“Don’t you need to check it?” he asked, his voice high and breathy.
I extended my hand, which he took. Oh shit. He was ice cold.
“Later. We need to get you out of those wet clothes.”
“I’m fine.”
Ignoring him, I gripped his hand and gently led him out of the kitchen.
When we were in the living room, I used the flashlight to see if there was anything I could use to get him warm. On the couch lay a comforter, forming a makeshift bed. Had he planned on sleeping down here?
“Take my jacket off.”
He was shaking so badly he couldn’t grip the zipper.
I put the flashlight on the coffee table and pointed it at the ceiling to give us some ambient light.
“I’m fine.”
“You’re freezing.” I pushed his hands away from the zipper and carefully pulled the slider down.
“I’m not,” he said through chattering teeth.
“You’re soaking wet, and you have like, three percent body fat. You’re hypothermic.”
“Just a little cold.” He held still as I pulled my jacket off him.
“Sure. We’ll pretend that’s all it is. Arms up.”
“Why?” He lifted his arms despite his weak protest.
I tugged his hoodie up over his head and tossed it onto the floor. “Because we need to get your wet sweater off you. Where’s your room?”
“Upstairs.”
“I assumed as much, smartass. Which floor?”
“Top.”
“In the attic?” I wrapped the comforter around his shoulders and closed it around him.
“Not all of us can live in a penthouse,” he muttered.
I rubbed my hands up and down his arms, trying to warm him up faster. “The attic could be considered a penthouse,” I mused. “The room makes up the entire floor, and it’s the top one in the building.”
He snickered. “Is that why I pay premium rates for an eight-by-ten room and a bathroom I can barely turn around in?”
“What do you mean?”
“My rent is only fifty bucks less than the other guys in the house, even though their rooms are more than twice the size of mine.”
“Seriously?”
“Like you didn’t know.”
“I have nothing to do with rent. I only deal with maintenance and any day-to-day issues that might come up. Come on. We need to get you out of these wet clothes.”
He pursed his lips like he was going to protest but nodded.
Grabbing the flashlight, I fell into step behind him, illuminating his way as he led me up to the top floor.
As soon as we stepped into the tiny hall separating his room and bathroom, the temperature change was stark. Chilled air seeped into my wet clothes and skin. A shiver ran through me.
“Shit, it’s, like, ten degrees colder up here.”
“My guess is the assholes who turned the place into student housing didn’t bother using the good insulation.” He shot me a pointed look and pushed the door to his room open.
“This isn’t the difference between basic and good quality insulation.” I followed him into the tiny room and handed him the flashlight. “I’m wondering if it’s even up to code.”
“Considering who owns the place, my guess would be no.”
He went to his dresser and dug through the drawers.
“Do you mind?” He winced.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. At least turn your back while I change.”
I faced toward the wall. “Pack a bag when you’re done.”
“What? Why?”
“Because you can’t stay here.”
“Why not?”
“There’s no water.”
“So? I don’t need water.”
“What percentage of the human body is water again?”
“Shut up,” he grumbled petulantly. “I liked you better when you were a dumbass.”
I smiled at his tone.
“It’s a health and safety issue. I can’t get someone in here to start cleaning up until the power comes back on. And it’s the weekend. It could be days before we can turn the water back on.”
“I’ll make do.”
“Eli.”
“Don’t use that tone with me.”
“What tone?”
“The ‘oh Eli, you’re such a silly kid’ voice.”
“That’s not the voice I was using.”
“It was!”
“It wasn’t.”
“Then what voice was it?”
“That was my ‘this has been a shit-tastic day, and now I have to deal with a flood in one of my houses’ voice.”
“Oh.”
“Can I turn around? This wall is interesting, but I’m kinda over staring at it.”
“Fine.”
He was sitting on the edge of his bed, the comforter around his shoulders and his face twisted up in pain as he rubbed his foot.
“What happened?” I crossed the room in five long strides and knelt in front of him. “Did you step on something?”
“It’s nothing. Just cold.”
“Let me see.”
“I said I’m fine.”
“Let. Me. See.”
His breathing hitched, and he widened his eyes.
“Please,” I said, my voice softer. “Give me your pillow.”
“Why?”
“Are you going to argue with everything I say?”
“Probably.”
I chuckled. “Fair enough. I’m going to put it on my legs so I don’t get your socks all wet.”
“But then I’ll get feet all over my pillow.”
“You have a pillowcase on it, right?”
“You’re so annoying.”
A pillow landed on my lap. I tucked it against my legs and pulled his foot so it was resting on the soft surface. He drew in a hissing breath. I looked up at him.
“Did that hurt?”
He nodded curtly.
Gently I wrapped my hand around his toes. Holy shit. They were ice cold under the soft material of his sock.
“I need to take your socks off and check your feet.”
He opened his mouth like he was going to protest but closed it and nodded again.
Carefully and as gently as I could, I peeled his sock down his foot. His skin was so pale it looked bloodless.
“Give me your other foot. We need to warm them up.”
Wordlessly he did as I said. When his sock was off, I tugged my shirt up over my head.
“What are you doing?”
“Warming you up.” I pulled the pillow from under his feet and tugged off the case.
Scooting closer, I replaced the pillow and carefully wrapped my hands around his slim ankles.
I put the soles of his feet against my stomach, wincing as his freezing skin settled on mine. I covered them with the pillowcase to trap in whatever body heat I managed to share with him.
“This okay?”
“Yeah,” he said softly.
I gently rubbed my hands over them to get the blood circulating faster and tried to gauge how much they’d warmed up. A soft beep echoed in the room. He was staring at his phone screen, a frown on his face.
“What?”
“My blood sugar is a bit high.” He sighed and put the phone on the bed. “Not surprising considering everything.”
“What do you need to do for that?”
He leaned down and picked up a water bottle that was tucked up next to his bed. “Rehydrate. All that running around should help too.”
“How are your hands? Are they too cold too?”
“They’re fine.” He gave me a tight smile. “Honestly.”
He looked so young and vulnerable and tired. But I wasn’t sure if it was physical or mental tiredness.
“Are you okay?” he asked. “You’re just chilling down there half-naked while I’m wrapped up in a blanket and stealing your body heat.”
I chuckled. “I’m fine. I’m sure I’ll feel it more when the adrenaline wears off.”
We sat in silence. Dozens of questions floated in my mind, but I held them back as he sipped his water. He didn’t need an interrogation right now.
“Is there somewhere I can drop you off?” I shifted his feet to my chest. Hopefully, some fresh, warm skin would help things along.
“This isn’t exactly the most comfortable position,” he grumbled and leaned back to keep his legs up.
“I could always lie down, and you could use me as a footrest,” I suggested dryly.
He snickered. “I mean, if you’re offering.”
I shimmied so I was sitting cross-legged and he didn’t have to hold his legs up so high. “Better?”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
“How do they feel?”
“Better. Still cold, but they’re warming up.”
“No pain or anything?”
“Pins and needles. But it’s not bad.”
“You know you can’t stay here, right?”
He heaved a big sigh. “I know.”
“Is there somewhere I can drop you off?”
He shook his head and looked at the floor.
“What about your family?”
“My parents are out of town, and Gray…” He sipped his water. “He doesn’t exactly have the best living situation right now. I’m not sure he could help even if he wasn’t working.”
His evasiveness made me pause. Had Gray not gotten out of here either?
“What about a friend’s place?” I asked, not wanting to pry into his brother’s business.
He shrugged and stared at the top of his water bottle.
“Do you want to come home with me?”
“What?” He gave me a sharp look.
“I have lots of room. You’d have your own space. Think of it like a hotel until you can find an alternative.”
“And if I can’t?” he whispered. “Find an alternative?”
“Then you can stay as long as you need to.”
He studied me, his eyes dark and calculating.
I sat still and held his gaze.
“Fine.” A pause. “Thank you.”
“How do your feet feel now?”
“Almost back to normal.” He sighed. “I’m about ready for today to be over.”
“You and me both.” I pulled the pillowcase off his feet and ran my hands over them. His skin was chilled, but the color was back to normal. Gently I pressed my palm to his toes. They were still alarmingly cold.
“I apologize in advance for how weird this is going to be, but we need to get your toes warmed up a bit faster.”
“What do you—”
I lifted his feet and tucked his toes into my armpits.
“This is the strangest thing that’s ever happened to me. Like so weird I can’t even articulate how weird.”
“Same.” I chuckled and held his ankles to help keep him in place. “I’m not sure how to ask this without being blunt, but is there anything you need me to have at home if you’re going to stay with me?”
He cut his eyes to the side and stared at a point in the distance. “A cooler would be good. I need to keep my insulin cold and with the power off… Otherwise, just healthy stuff I can eat.”
“I have a cooler and went shopping this morning. Do I need to do anything? Watch for anything?”
“Do you know what hypoglycemia is?” he asked softly.
“That’s when your sugar is low, right?”
“Right. Do you know the signs of it?”
“Yeah.” I’d done a ton of research on diabetes when I’d found out Eli had it. I still didn’t know why. I’d never planned on seeing him again. But I was glad I had. It was obviously hard for him to talk about this.
“Do you know about hyperglycemia?”
I nodded.
“Tell me if you see I’m showing signs of either and don’t seem aware of it. I have glucose tablets in my kit I take when I need to get my sugar up fast, and I have fast-acting insulin for when my sugars are too high. I monitor my levels so I can usually stay ahead of issues. I’ve got a routine that’s working, but sometimes it doesn’t matter what I do, and things go out of whack for a bit.”
“How do your toes feel?”
“Like they’re shoved in someone’s armpits.” A small smile tilted his lips.
I snickered. “Imagine that.”
“They’re better,” he said softly.
“Back to normal?”
He nodded.
Gently I pulled his foot out from under my arm and ran my fingertips over his toes. They were warm.
“Can you move them okay?”
An impish grin slid over his lips, and he wiggled all his toes, including the ones still in my other armpit. It tickled, and I yelped.
He laughed.
My protests died on my lips as I stared at him. Eli was beautiful no matter what, but he was absolutely breathtaking when he laughed.
“Brat.” I cleared my throat and placed his feet on the floor.
“I mean, you asked. I was just testing.” He blinked at me innocently.
“Sure you were.” I got up onto my knees, then stood. “How about you pack a bag and we’ll get out of here.”
He pulled the comforter off his shoulders. “Use this. I’m good now. I have a sweater that should fit you.”
I took the comforter and wrapped it around myself. The heat from his body soaked into me, chasing away the shivers that had been lurking under my skin. I’d been so focused on helping him I hadn’t realized how cold I was until I’d stood.
He tugged on a pair of thick socks, shoved his feet into his shoes, and pulled a worn gray hoodie out of a drawer.
“Here.”
“Thanks.” I took it and put it on. It must have been huge on him because it fit me perfectly.
“Do you want to bring your laptop and work stuff?” I asked when he’d finished packing his clothes, toiletries, and medication.
“What do you mean?”
“You can work while you’re at my place if you want. You’ll have your own room, so it’ll be private.”
He bit his lip. “You don’t mind me doing that in your house?”
“Why not? I do paperwork in my office. Work is work.”
“I probably should. I only work on the weekends, and consistency helps with the site’s algorithms.”
“And a coat. Can’t have you getting all wet again when we go to the car.”
He shot me an unamused look. “So bossy.”
“You know it.” I grinned.
He rolled his eyes and spun on his heel dramatically.
I liked how he was relaxed enough to tease and be silly and dramatic, to be more like the Eli I used to know. Maybe we could be friends again.
The next couple of days were going to be interesting; that was for damn sure.
