“She was my favorite. Had these gigantic boobs that were like pillows.” He nuzzles his head to the side like he’s remembering it. “She’d sing to me when I was sick or when I was upset—which was a lot because Dad was always flaking on shit. I think I got more hugs from her in the year or so that she was my nanny than I have from him my entire life. Parents are bullshit.”

I’m quiet. Don’t really know what to say. For all the shitty things that happened growing up, physical contact was never in short supply. Sometimes my mom clung to me all day as if I was the only thing keeping her connected to the planet.

My stomach twists and I push away my plate.

“Sorry, man, didn’t mean to go dark.”

“Nah, it’s fine. I don’t feel so well.” I stand and I break out in a cool sweat, my mouth waters.

“Ah shit,” Mav says right before I take off in a dead run toward the bathroom.

After puking for the better part of three hours, I join Maverick in the living room. I stripped down to my boxers—everything else is wet from sweat.

“God, you weren’t kidding. All my organs feel like they’ve shifted. Is that a thing?”

“No clue.” He nods with his head toward the kitchen. “Ginny brought soup and Jell-O.”

“Ginny was here?”

“Your phone was going off, so I texted her.”

I find my phone on the counter and see that she did text several times about tonight and then to tell me to feel better and let her know if I need anything.

“She wanted me to tell you that she’d be by later to check in.” He shakes his head. “That Ginny, she’s a peach.”

“She’s the best,” I say because even though I’m a little freaked out, I know it’s true.

I text her back to thank her for the food and tell her not to bother coming again until we’re on the mend. The last thing she needs is to catch whatever this is. I feel like I’ve been run over by a bus. I take a seat in the recliner. The cool leather feels nice against my skin. I’m pretty sure I have a fever.

“I need a Ginny.” Maverick sighs and Charli whines.

“I think Charli would take issue with getting kicked out of your bed for a chick.”

We spend the late afternoon and evening watching TV. Just when I think things are taking a turn for the better, one of us gets sick again. We reek. The whole apartment probably does, but I’ve lost the ability to smell it.