Pitch Black (Romantic Thriller, Completed)

Chapter 16

I waited a few minutes, and when Luke didn't reappear, I went to find him.

I'd hoped I was wrong about him being ill, but when I heard the gagging noises coming from the downstairs loo, that hope faded. When I pushed the door open, he was kneeling over the toilet, and judging by the mess on the floor, he hadn't made it in time.

He groaned when he looked up and saw me. "Please go out. I'm fine."

No, he wasn't "fine." Embarrassed, yes, but definitely not fine.

"I've seen worse." Although not by much. He'd gone from nought to Norovirus in sixty seconds. "Somebody has to look after you."

"Yes, but not you. I don't want you here while I'm like this."

Under his grey pallor, a red tinge spread across his cheeks.

"Well, do you want me to call someone else? Your mother? Or your sister?"

"No! My mother would totally overreact. I'd end up at the hospital, probably in intensive care. And Tia would just call my mother. She doesn't deal with things like this."

"You're stuck with me, then. Suck it up."

He didn't argue further, which showed how rough he must have been feeling. That and the fact he puked again. I dampened a wad of tissue and handed it to him, then averted my gaze while he wiped his mouth.

"Think you can stand?" I asked.

Did that groan mean yes? I had to assume so.

With my arm around his waist, I guided him past the mess and towards the stairs that wound up both sides of the entrance hall.

"Just lean on me. We can go as slow as you like." He'd have given a tortoise a run for its money, but we made it to the top. "Now where?"

"To the right, last door on the left." His voice was barely audible.

I hadn't planned on ending up in Luke's bedroom tonight, but that was where I found myself. The elegant decor spoke of his mother's touch again.

He sank onto the bed and leaned forward, head in his hands. His face was paler than the cream quilt, and I couldn't help wrinkling my nose at the splashes of vomit on his clothes. The smell turned my stomach.

"Lean back," I said, then unbuttoned his shirt.

Hmm... Not bad at all. He had a gym, and he knew how to use it. There was no time to stop and admire, though. I needed to find him something clean to wear.

Opposite the bed, two doors hung ajar. I tried the left one first. Unlucky—that was the bathroom, complete with whirlpool bath. Did every house around here have one?

The right door hid what I was looking for—Luke's dressing room. I rummaged around until I found a clean T-shirt, old but soft with a faded slogan:

Binary

It's as easy as

01.10.11

Okay, geek alert. That was one for Mack, not me. She was probably sitting at her computer in Virginia right now. She rarely left it.

Luke made no attempt to help as I tried to shove his spaghetti arms through the holes. Good grief. Dressing Nate's four-year-old was easier. Luke's jeans were dirty too, and I reached for his belt.

"Tell me you don't go commando?"

He managed a weak shake of his head, so I stripped him down to his underwear and shoved him under the duvet.