Such a Hot Little Number
By Emery C. Walters
It wasn’t as if I’d never been sick before; I had. I’d been sick a lot worse, bronchitis that one time, pneumonia another. My appendix had almost burst when I was ten; that had been bad.
This time though—Oh. My. God. At first, I’d been afraid I was going to die. Now I was afraid I wasn’t going to die.
And for God’s sake, this had to be the first time my crush had ever wanted anything to do with me. How in hell could I even close my mouth long enough to kiss the man, let alone put anything in my mouth long enough to um, uh, without breathing? I sure as hell couldn’t breathe through my nose. Even if I could, I’d ruin it by coughing, or worse.
How attractive. My nose was red, my chest was too tight, my eyes were puffy. If I inhaled, I coughed.
