Chloe’s POV
I shrugged lightly and immediately regretted it when my head throbbed harder. “I didn’t want… this.”
“This what?” he asked, stepping closer.
I gestured vaguely at him. “Concern. Questions. You hovering.”
He ignored that completely. His hand came up, resting briefly on my forehead before I could stop him. His touch was cool. My skin burned under it.
“You’re hot,” he muttered.
I pulled away weakly. “Don’t.”
“You have a fever,” he said, not asking. “And you’re pale.”
“I know,” I snapped, then softened when another wave of dizziness hit. “I know something’s wrong.”
He looked around the room, taking in the untouched water bottle on the bedside table, the discarded dress, the shoes by the door, the faint smell of sickness in the air.
“You’ve been throwing up,” he said.
I
