Chapter 36

When Mel returned to the hotel room about an hour later, sweaty and out of breath from her run, she kicked off her sneakers and pulled her thick brown hair free from the ponytail she had put it up in. It tumbled around her shoulders, the ache in her scalp letting her know that she had tied it too tight. She rubbed her temples as she walked further into the room, her head pounding not just from the ponytail, but from the encounter she had had with Roman earlier. She still didn't know what to think about what he had told her. His words had been running through her mind on a loop the entire time she was running, but she didn't know what to do. She was just as confused as she was an hour ago.

She suddenly noticed that the apartment was very quiet, and she blinked and called out, "Babe?" When Mike didn't answer, she padded into the bedroom, suddenly very afraid. Mike was usually awake and clanging around in the kitchen by now; it was very unusual for him to still be in bed.

Sure enough, Mike was still curled under the sheets, one of his muscular arms tucked under the pillow. Mel frowned a little at the sight of him. It was so weird to see him still asleep. She shrugged it off, telling herself that it was nothing. He was probably just exhausted. After all, he'd been working a lot lately.

She went into the bathroom, closing the door quietly behind her and turning the shower on. After making sure that it was hot, she pulled off her yoga pants and tight-fitting tank top, wrinkling her nose when she saw the sweat stains on them. It had been pretty hot outside, and since there were no clouds in the sky, the sun had beat down on her relentlessly. She tossed them into the hamper, thinking to herself that she would have to wash them later.

She hopped into the shower, scrubbing her hair and body as best as she could. She hated feeling sweaty, so she always took long showers after she finished working out, trying to scrub the dirt and grime out of her pores. She slathered vanilla-scented body wash over her tanned skin, loving the smell. She wasn't much of a perfume girl; she hated how the scent seemed to choke you. Body wash was much more her style.

Once she felt clean enough, she shut the water off and stepped out, snatching up a fluffy white towel and wrapping it around herself. She glanced at herself in the mirror, noting her dripping hair, but she didn't feel like drying it at the moment. She adjusted the towel so it would stay on her body without her having to hold it up and opened the bathroom door, intending to go to the kitchen and make some food.

She nearly tripped over Mike, who was on his hands and knees by the side of the bed, gagging. She dropped to her knees beside him, her heart pounding with fear. "Mikey?! Mikey, are you okay?!" She reached out to him, only to quickly pull her hand back as he threw up.

"I...I'm okay…" he said, trying to push himself to his feet, his arms and legs shaking. "I'm fine...I just need to…" He fell back down again, his face very pale and a thin sheen of sweat covering his skin. He didn't look good at all.

"Mikey! You're sick!" Mel exclaimed, extremely worried. What if it was something serious? Should she take him to the hospital? What if it was life-threatening? "We need to get you checked out!" She tried pulling him up, but he was too heavy for her, and she gave up after a few minutes of trying.

"Babe, relax," he said weakly, looking up at her with tired eyes. "It's just the stomach flu. Can you help me back into bed?"

"Of course," Mel responded. She put his arm over her shoulders, determined to get him back on his feet. She tried lifting him up, and with his help she managed to get him back into bed. She pulled the blankets back up over him, tucking him in. She brushed his hair out of his eyes, and kissed his forehead, her heart full of concern. She hated the fact that he was sick, but she was going to take care of him.

After she cleaned up the vomit, she fluffed his pillows up so that he was sitting up more, and then she went out into the kitchen. She opened all the cupboards, looking through everything in there, searching for a specific item. When she didn't see what she wanted, she closed the cupboards in frustration. Was there not a single can of chicken noodle soup in this room?!

Mel poked her head back into the bedroom to check on Mike, and to her slight relief she saw that he had fallen asleep. She crept over to the side of the bed, careful not to wake him, and set the pot that she had gotten from the kitchen next to him. Hopefully if he woke up and had to throw up again, he would grab the pot and use that instead of the carpet.

She snatched up her purse and the key card, and then she slipped out into the hallway. She closed the door quietly, making sure it locked before heading for the elevator. This time, no one disturbed her, and she strode through the lobby and out the doors. She crossed the parking lot to her car and got in, setting her purse in the passenger seat beside her. She recalled seeing a supermarket a few blocks from the hotel, and she started her car and headed there, driving as fast as the speed limit allowed. She didn't want to leave Mike alone for too long.

A few minutes later she left the supermarket, carrying a plastic bag full of cans of chicken noodle soup. When she arrived at the hotel once again, she pulled the bag out of the trunk and headed inside, trying to keep the cans from tearing through the bottom of the bag. She was so distracted that she didn't watch where she was going, and she suddenly smacked into a solid chest. She wobbled, about to fall over, but hands grabbed her arms gently, steadying her.

"Did I always tell you that you need to start paying attention to where you're going?" Roman asked, his dark eyes glittering with amusement as he removed his hands from her arms and shoved them back into his pockets. His long hair was pulled back into a messy bun, and he was wearing a black polo shirt and dark-wash jeans. He looked amazing, and Mel looked away, feeling a blush creep over her cheeks.

"This stupid bag is breaking," she mumbled, holding up the bag so that he could see.

"Here, let me take that for you." Roman took the bag from her, and surprise registered on his face at the weight of it. "Well no wonder it's breaking, this thing is heavy." He glanced at the contents in the bag and then up at her, his eyebrows raised. "You don't like chicken noodle soup."

Mel gave a little shrug. "I heard it's good for people who are sick. It makes them feel better."

Roman's eyes filled with concern. "Are you sick?"

"No," she responded, shaking her head. God, this was so awkward. "Um, Mike is. He has the stomach flu." She shifted from one foot to the other, feeling super uncomfortable. She didn't like talking about Mike with Roman, just like she didn't like talking about Roman with Mike. She was already confused enough.

"Oh, that's rough," Roman said, sounding sympathetic. "I heard that was going around. Will he be alright?"

"I think so," she said, surprised by how concerned he was. "I hope so. I wanted to make him some soup, but there wasn't any in the kitchen so I went out and bought some." She glanced at the sagging bag a little sheepishly. "I might have gone a little overboard…"

"Hey, you obviously care about him and want him to get better. There's nothing to be ashamed of," he told her kindly. "Now come on, let's get this soup back to your room. I'm sure he isn't feeling too good."

Mel hesitated, biting her bottom lip, but then she relented and headed over to the elevator with him on her heels. The ride up to the fourth floor was quiet, but it didn't feel as awkward as it had before. She felt more at ease with him, like she used to be. She kept shooting little side glances at him, only to see that he was doing the same.

They got off of the elevator and headed down the hall until they reached the room. Mel dug the key card out of her purse and swiped it, and she walked in and set her stuff down before taking the plastic bag from Roman. She set it on the counter and then turned to him. "Thank you."

"No problem," Roman said, giving her a warm smile. "Tell Mike that I hope he feels better."

"I will."

Roman gave a little wave, and then he left the room.

Mel pulled the soup cans out of the bag and put them all away except for one, which she proceeded to open with a can opener. She dumped it into a bowl and followed the instructions until it was ready. Picking up the bowl and a glass of water, she went into the bedroom, hoping that Mike had been okay while she was gone.

He was awake when she came in, but it looked like he had just woken up because he was rubbing his eyes. The pot that sat beside him was empty, so that was a good sign.

"Hey baby," she greeted him, walking over with the bowl and glass. She set the water down on the nightstand and handed the bowl to him. "I made you some soup. I thought it might make you feel better." It suddenly struck her that she didn't even know if he liked chicken noodle soup or not. What if he hated it?

"Thank you," Mike rasped, taking the bowl and spooning some soup into his mouth immediately. He seemed to relax as he ate it, some color returning to his face.

Mel sat beside him, watching him eat closely, wanting to be prepared in case he threw up again. When he had finished his soup, she took the bowl and set it on the nightstand as well.

Mike leaned his head back against the pillows, his eyelids drooping. "Thank you for taking such good care of me," he said sleepily. "I'm so glad I have you…" He trailed off, falling into a deep sleep.

Mel leaned forward and kissed his forehead, taking his hand in hers. "I'm glad I have you too."