Something in the Wine (20 page)

Was it little things like this that made Annie constantly aware that Drew was gay? Or was it all in her head? Annie wasn’t sure. She watched Drew settle into bed, her eyelids already drooping. “Do you have a T-shirt I could wear? I didn’t plan on a sleepover.”

“You don’t need to stay,” Drew said again.

Annie folded her arms and looked down at Drew. “I’m staying, so don’t waste your energy protesting.”

“Okay, okay. There should be a T-shirt that will fit you in the top drawer.” Drew lifted one hand from beneath the covers and pointed.

Annie pulled out the drawer and took the T-shirt on top. Her eyebrows rose as she read the words on the front. “Sorry I missed church. I was busy practicing witchcraft and becoming a lesbian.” She glanced at Drew, who watched her with a tired smile. “Do you have a whole dresser full of T-shirts like these?”

“I have a few, but I just wear them around the house. Lynn gives me one or two for every birthday.”

Lynn.
Annie wondered how long Drew had known her. How long had they been together? And was their relationship completely over? She couldn’t bring herself to ask.

“Do you want another T-shirt?” Drew asked when Annie said nothing.

“This one is fine. Maybe I should wear it on Thanksgiving.”

Drew laughed, then coughed. “I have two guest rooms. One is right next door, and the bigger one is next to the stairs. Take your pick.”

“I’ll be next door.” This way, she would be nearby in case Drew woke up and called out during the night. “If you need anything, don’t hesitate to wake me up, okay?”

Drew nodded. Her eyes fell shut.

“Good night, Drew.”

Deep breathing was her only answer.

Annie tiptoed across the room and switched off the lights. At the door, she stopped and glanced back at Drew. She couldn’t make out Drew’s face in the almost darkness, but Drew slept without moving, completely defenseless. The intimacy of the situation struck Annie like a punch to the chest, robbing her of breath. After one more glance at Drew, she stepped out of the bedroom, leaving the door ajar.

* * *

Annie woke and stared into the darkness. The alarm clock was on the wrong side of the bed.
I’m at Drew’s.
Another glance at the alarm clock showed that it was just after three. What had awakened her in the middle of the night? Had Drew called for her?

She felt wide-awake now and knew she wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep before she checked on Drew. Sighing, she threw back the covers and walked to the door, then opened it and peered across the hallway.

A sliver of light fell through the bedroom door that Annie had left open slightly.

Not taking the time to get dressed, Annie crossed the hallway and listened.

Bed springs creaked. Drew sneezed and blew her nose.

Annie hesitated. When she glanced down, she realized that she wasn’t fully dressed. With one hand already raised to push open the door, she tugged on the T-shirt with the other hand. On Drew, the shirt probably ended mid-thigh, but it reached just below Annie’s hips.
Get over yourself. She’s sick. And she wouldn’t ogle you, even if she were up to it. That constant flirting is just her type of humor.

Shaking her head at herself, Annie opened the door farther and peeked inside. “Drew?” she whispered. “Everything okay?”

“I’m sick,” Drew said, her voice nasal and childlike. In the light of the lamp on the bedside table, sweat gleamed on her forehead. Her cheeks were flushed.

Damn. I thought the medicine and some sleep would help.
If anything, Drew looked worse than she had a few hours before. Even though Annie told herself that it was just a cold and Drew would be fine, she couldn’t help worrying.

She stepped into the bedroom and closed the door to deter Cab from rushing in and disturbing Drew’s rest. A few crumpled tissues were strewn around the bed, and on her way over to Drew, Annie picked them up and threw them onto the heap of tissues already in the trash.

For a few moments, she stood looking at Drew. She hadn’t taken care of a sick person in years and never someone who was basically still a stranger. It felt weird to be in Drew’s bedroom in the middle of the night.
Oh, come on. Drew has already seen your bedroom.
Hazily, she remembered Drew putting her to bed after she had drunk too much. She gave herself a mental push and perched on the edge of the bed, leaving a respectable distance between her and Drew.

Drew watched her with drooping eyes.

Hesitantly, Annie lifted her hand and laid it on Drew’s forehead, then touched her cheek. The heat radiating from Drew’s skin worried her. “God, Drew, you’re burning up! Do you have a thermometer?”

“Hmm?” Drew sniffled and glanced at her through watery eyes.

“A thermometer,” Annie said. “Do you have one?”

Drew blew her nose. “Yes,” she mumbled from behind the tissue.

If Drew hadn’t been so sick, it would have been amusing. “Good. Where is it?”

“Hmm?”

“Your thermometer—where is it?”

Drew blinked as if she needed time to process Annie’s question. “Bathroom,” she said after a few seconds.

Annie got up and straightened the covers, making sure Drew stayed warm. She stepped around the bed and entered the bathroom.

When the light flickered on, Annie took in the white tiles and a bathtub that looked large enough for two. Instantly, an image of Drew in the tub with Lynn swept through Annie’s mind. She shook her head to chase away the mental picture and glared at herself in the mirror above the sink.
Stop thinking about it. What Drew does or doesn’t do with Lynn is none of your business.

She slid open the mirrored front of the white bathroom cabinet. While she rooted through bottles of medicine, she felt like a snoop. Going through Drew’s bathroom cabinet seemed like a very private thing. She pushed a box of tampons to the left and peeked past a tube of hand lotion. Between a pair of nail clippers and a toothbrush still in its plastic packaging, she finally found the thermometer.

Annie ran it under water. As an afterthought, she took a washcloth from an open shelf next to the bathtub and wet it. Maybe a cool compress would help make Drew more comfortable.

When she returned to the bedroom, she half expected Drew to be asleep, but instead, Drew’s eyes were open and watched Annie as she settled down on the edge of the bed. Drew looked up at her with the trusting gaze of a sick person waiting for the miracle healer.

Annie squared her shoulders.
She trusts you. Now help her.
“We need to take your temperature.”

Drew licked cracked lips and continued to look at Annie through glassy eyes. Instead of taking the thermometer from Annie, she opened her mouth.

There were places that would give her a more accurate reading of Drew’s body temperature, but Annie didn’t want to even think about it. This would have to do. Annie turned on the thermometer, placed it beneath Drew’s tongue, and nudged her chin to get Drew to close her mouth. When the thermometer was safely in place, she put the cool compress on Drew’s forehead.

“Feels nice,” Drew mumbled around the thermometer.

For a moment, Annie thought Drew meant the washcloth on her forehead, but then she realized that she was combing her fingers through the damp curls on Drew’s temple. She stilled her fingers, stared at them, and withdrew her hand.
Since when am I the touchy-feely type?

The thermometer beeped.

Annie slid it out of Drew’s mouth and glanced at the display. “103.8.” She frowned. “Jesus, Drew, that’s really high.” She needed to do something to bring Drew’s fever down.

Once she had read a book in which a character had been put into a tub full of cold water to cool down. She couldn’t safely maneuver Drew in and out of a tub, though, and undressing Drew was way out of her comfort zone.

One glance at the alarm clock showed that it had been at least six hours since Drew had taken the last dose of pain relievers. “Let’s try more Tylenol. If that doesn’t bring your fever down, I’m taking you to a doctor.” Annie opened the package of Tylenol and slid the water glass within easier reach. “Can you sit up a bit?”

When Drew struggled to lift her upper body, Annie slid one arm around her shoulders.

Instead of sitting up, Drew wrapped her arms around Annie too and nestled close. Her breath fanned over Annie’s collarbone, making Annie shiver. Through the thin cotton of the borrowed T-shirt, Drew’s face pressed against her breasts. Annie’s temperature skyrocketed until her cheeks felt warmer than Drew’s. “Um, Drew ...” Annie’s breathing picked up while she felt Drew’s slow down.

Drew snuggled closer. Her eyes fluttered shut, her lashes brushing Annie’s collarbone like the wings of a butterfly. Drew murmured, “Feels so good.”

Part of Annie agreed. Drew’s warm, pliant body against hers did feel good. But a bigger part didn’t want to think about why Drew’s embrace felt so surprisingly good even though Annie had never been one for snuggling. She needed some distance, so she sought refuge in the role of a nurse going about her duties with detached professionalism. “Don’t fall asleep like this,” she said. “We need to get some Tylenol and water into you. Can you sit up?”

For a few seconds, Drew didn’t move, making Annie fear she had fallen asleep snuggled in their embrace. Then Drew dropped her arms from around Annie and groaned as she let her head fall onto the pillow.

Annie shivered, missing Drew’s warmth.

What’s going on with me?
She stared at Drew and tried to make sense of her confusing feelings.
Maybe I do have some maternal instincts after all, and that’s why I want to hold her close and comfort her.

But the sensations she felt when Drew had wrapped her arms around her hadn’t been maternal at all.

Drew groaned again.

Annie returned her attention to her patient.
Now is not the time to deal with this. You need to bring her fever down, so get on with it.

With Drew helping as much as she could, Annie managed to get her propped up against the headboard.

Annie handed her the Tylenol and, steadying her with one hand, held the glass to her lips until Drew had swallowed the pills.

Drew sat with her head lolling back against the headboard. Her eyes were closed as if just sitting up and swallowing had exhausted her. A drop of water clung to her bottom lip, and Annie dabbed at Drew’s mouth with a tissue. She fought the urge to run her fingers through Drew’s hair again.

The thought shocked her. Where was this sudden need to touch Drew coming from? She took a deep breath. “Want to lie back down?”

With her eyes still closed, Drew nodded.

After helping Drew slide down and settle back against the pillow, Annie tugged the covers around her. “I’ll take your temperature again in an hour to see if the Tylenol helped.”

Drew didn’t answer.

When Annie glanced down, she realized that Drew had fallen asleep.

Annie blew out a breath and pulled an armchair next to the bed so she could watch over Drew while she slept.

After half an hour, Drew’s flushed face started to blur before Annie’s burning eyes. Her jaw muscles strained as she struggled to suppress a yawn. She rubbed her face to chase away the tiredness, propped her head on one hand, and continued to watch Drew.

When Annie’s head fell forward, she got up, lifted the now warm washcloth from Drew’s forehead, and rinsed it with cold water in the bathroom. While standing in front of the sink, she took a moment to splash water on her face and neck to refresh herself.

Drew mumbled something unintelligible in her sleep but didn’t wake when Annie replaced the cool washcloth.

Annie yawned again. She would take Drew’s temperature again in thirty minutes. Maybe reading for a while would help keep her awake. She hesitated in front of Drew’s bookshelf and then pulled out what looked like a murder mystery, her preferred genre. But tonight, she wasn’t in the mood for blood and gore. Seeing Drew suffer was bad enough, so she put the mystery novel back.

She trailed her fingers over the book spines and glanced over her shoulder to make sure Drew was still sleeping peacefully. Her hand lingered above one of the books on the romance shelf before she randomly picked one. The cover showed the silhouettes of two women walking hand in hand along a beach.

Since when are you interested in reading romances? And lesbian romances at that.

A throaty moan from the bed interrupted her thoughts.

Annie jerked and quickly put the book back on the shelf. She hurried to the bed, where she found Drew tossing and turning, struggling to free herself from the covers.

“Ssssh. Lie still.” Annie rested her hand on Drew’s, which lay on top of the blanket, and stroked the back of Drew’s hand with her thumb. Her other hand brushed a strand of hair out of Drew’s face. “Everything’s fine.”

Drew’s eyes flickered open. She looked at Annie, closed her eyes again, and fell into a more peaceful sleep.