“Don’t be a weirdo. I’ll text if I need anything.” Cherisse waved her phone.

She wanted to shoot Keiran a quick text too. It was the right thing to do, in case she had unknowingly shared her germs. She didn’t need Remi hovering around for that. She’d already made her feelings about the casual sex with Keiran known—silently, with a heavy dose of side-eye. Plus, the meds were doing their thing. Her limbs felt heavy, and she needed to send that text before the phone fell on her face or something.

“Go.” She shooed Remi, who still hovered in the doorway.

“Fine. Sleep.” Remi left the door slightly ajar, and Cherisse rolled her eyes. Sometimes, Remi was a worse worrier than Cherisse’s mother.

Cherisse tapped out a quick text to Keiran:

Cherisse: think I’m coming down with the flu. So heads up flumaggedon maybe heading your way.

Keiran: oh damn how you feelin’?

Cherisse: I’ve been banished to bed and drugged up. Remi’s orders. Anyway meds kicking in so before this phone meets my face...

She didn’t wait for his reply. The phone had already almost slid out her hand, so she pitched it next to her and let the drowsiness pull her under.

#

SHE WOKE UP GROGGY, eyes burning. She had no idea how long she’d slept. She squinted at her curtains, which told her nothing. Then she remembered her phone.

Cherisse patted the bed beside her until her hand landed on it. Keiran had messaged back. She’d slept right through that.

Keiran: hey, you like soup right? I can bring you some?

That had been three hours ago. She checked the time, already after 6 p.m. Why was he trying to bring her soup? This wasn’t part of their hooking up. It hadn’t explicitly been said, but Cherisse was sure she’d made it clear this was just sex, hadn’t she? That didn’t involve soup.

Did it involve post-sex cuddling?

“Shush, you,” she hissed at that annoying inner voice. She was definitely worse off than expected if she was openly talking back to herself.

Cherisse: yes and not necessary. Not part of the deal. Thanks tho.

Keiran: oh you’re up. Well uh I’m not saying I’m downstairs but...

What? He couldn’t be serious. She opened a new chat window for Remi.

Cherisse: is Keiran here?

Remi: uh...

Cherisse: dammit Remi!

Remi: he brought food. Otherwise I wouldn’t have let him in. I think it’s soup. Which is kinda sweet, I guess. How u feeling?

Cherisse: like shit.

She thought about going downstairs and decided she wasn’t ready to move yet. Fucking flu. She burrowed deeper under her covers. Her fan was on full blast, adding to her chills, but reaching across that short distance to turn it down or off completely felt like a chore. She was hungry, too. Her tummy rumbled. At least she hadn’t lost her appetite yet. That soup sounded like a good idea. She should tell Remi to bring it up, and...