Erin rolled over, towards the middle of the bed. Every cell in her body ached, her brain slammed against her skull. Grabbing a pillow, she covered her head hoping to muffle the uncontrollable groaning.

She sat up, creeping towards the edge of the bed. She needed to get up and go downstairs, Dave's liquor cabinet was on the second floor, he never locked it. Barring that, she kept a flask in her purse. Either way, there was only a flight of stairs between her and sweet relief.

She crawled near the edge of the bed, lowering herself down. Sudden dizziness crashed over her when her feet hit the floor. Her equilibrium was way off. She took a step forward and face planted on David Rossi's fine Italian rug.

"Ugh!" She groaned, leaving trails of drool on the rug wasn't part of her plan. Squeezing her eyes shut, trying to ignore how consistently her body ached. It was like the world's hardest hitting flu was ravaging her body. She kicked her way free from the sheets bundled on the floor.

She heard Dave enter the room before she saw him. "I thought you were asleep," she could almost hear the smile in his voice when he flipped on the bedside lamp.

"This isn't funny," she ground out.

"Maybe, next time you sleep over, we consider pants." He said.

"Shit!" She said reaching for the sheets on the floor and failing miserably.

"Relax, it's not like I haven't seen your naked ass before."

"It got hot-" She said, flipping onto her back. His t-shirt slipped past her thighs, but had ridden up with the fall.

"Oh, I'm sure you did." He chuckled, lording over her.

"Stop smiling. Are you going to help me up or not?"

"Of course I'll help you. You've got a lot of material here."He said, eyeing the satin sheets. She didn't miss the double meaning in his words. He strode leisurely to the bed. Taking his sweet time untangling her feet from the fallen bedclothes.

"Are you saying my ass is big?"

He shrugged, "I never said I didn't like it."

When she was free, he bundled up the sheets and tossed them into a pile across the room. "What had you up so late?" He asked, mildly curious.

"I was going downstairs."

"Why?"

"I left my purse-"

"You left your booze-" he dismissed her, " Don't stress yourself I got rid of it."

"No," she shook her head. "Please, David-" she begged him. "I've had enough, I can't go through with this-I've never felt this sick."

"It's a little early in the process for all that denial stuff." Dave said, he knelt down and brushed his hand against her forehead. There was no denying the fever that burned inside her. She sighed, the coolness of his palm was comforting.

"I have a low tolerance for pain."

"I remember." He said, withdrawing his hand. "I'm going to pick you up and you're going to go to the bathroom before I tuck you back in."

She nodded in response, eyes closed against the faint light emitting from the bedside lamp.

"Easy does it," David lifted her into his arms and sat her on her feet. She gripped his arms to keep from staggering.

"What?" She snapped.

He shifted his gaze between her and the bathroom, "you don't look so good. Are you sure you don't want me to come with you?"

"No thanks," She said, but she didn't let go of him. Instead, she gripped the sleeves of his bathrobe with white knuckles. Falling out of bed was bad enough, the last thing she needed was to land on her face in front of him.

"Come on," he settled his hand around her waist keeping her steady. "I'll walk with you."

"Are you going to stay and watch?" Erin asked, dripping with sarcasm.

"Only if invited-"

"You're not-" she snapped and lifted the toilet lid.

"Okay," Dave said, leaving the bathroom. He went into his room and found the first aid kit, a tackle box he kept under the bathroom sink. If he didn't get her fever down, there would be bigger problems than her falling out of bed. Like her brain frying for one thing.

"I don't need that!" Erin said, pushing his hand away.

"Just take the damn advil and quit arguing with me!" Dave said, furious and annoyed. They sat on the bed, glaring at each other. It was a battle of wills and the only thing winning was Erin's fever. "Bella, I could fry an egg on your forehead."

She snatched the bottle from his hand. "Don't call me that!"

"Then don't be an insufferable pain in my ass." He shot her a stony glare and handed her a bottle of water. "Take your meds and lie down while I try to break this fever." He growled.

"What if I don't want your help?" She asked, jutting out her chin. The only resource she had left was her free will.

"Then burn," he said offhanded.

"In Hell?" She arched her brow at him. "That's what you meant."

"That's above my paygrade." He got off the bed and stomped to the bathroom. He filled a small bowl with water and brought it back to the bedroom. "You can lay down, or I can lay you down," he threatened and sat the bowl on the nightstand.

"You wouldn't dare," She said weakly.

"Oh, would I?" He walked towards the foot of the bed, reaching for her ankles.

"Okay! You win!"

"I brought you here to take care of you," Dave said.

"You didn't want to," Erin countered. "You were bullied into it."

"So? At this point, why do you give a shit? Either way we need to get you through this."