"I wish I wasn't, you jackass," she snapped. "You had a fever and kept muttering nonsense in your sleep. You were a nightmare—whining, clinging, sweating all over me. And who the fuck gets drunk while they are at work? You better be glad I didn't dump a bucket of ice on you."
I smirked, leaning over her. "I would've made that water boil, sweetheart."
She growled, shoving at my chest. "Tch! And now you're acting like you didn't just almost die! You're insufferable!"
"I'm better now." I dipped my head, voice lowering. "And I'm pretty sure you liked taking care of me."
"I liked the part where I considered smothering you with a pillow," she muttered, brushing my hair back roughly just to make a point—but her hand paused at my forehead, checking my temperature again.
She narrowed her eyes. "You're still warm. Or maybe that's just your ego overheating from being such a pain in my ass."
