“You sound like my sister, which is ironic, because I was thinking earlier when you had your hands on me and your voice was... fuck, whatever it was doing, I-I was thinking how much I liked it.”
“As much as you liked me saying please?”
“I think so. I’m still not making much sense, am I?”
“It’s getting better.” Dante rose to his feet and held his hands out, brows raised in a silent question.
Sid took his hands—this part wasn’t new—and let himself be guided upright. His blurred vision darkened. Alone, he would’ve fallen straight back down, but Dante held him firm, waiting for Sid’s balance to catch up. “I need to lie down again,” Sid grumbled around a heavy sigh. “How shit is that?”
“Pretty shit if you’re going to do it on the kitchen floor.” Dante slipped an arm around Sid’s waist and steered him into the living room. “Bed or the couch?”
“Couch. I spend enough time lonely in bed.”
Dante’s gaze flickered. “You don’t deserve that.”
“To go to bed alone?”
“To be lonely. Everyone loves you.”
“Doesn’t mean they want to put up with this shit full-time. Last hook-up I brought home, I got the hiccups halfway through a blowjob and couldn’t stop—”Jesus A, stop talking.
Sid pursed his lips.
Dante manoeuvred him onto the sofa and sat on the coffee table in front of him. “Do you always ramble like this when you’re sick?”
“Only around you.” Sid rubbed his temples. “I get really confused sometimes, but speaking every bit of nonsense that comes into my head is brand new.”
“Good to know.”
“Is it?”
Dante made a low sound and spread his hands in surrender. “I have no fucking clue, man. All I got is a box of sandwiches and a criminal record.”
You’re worth so much more than that.“Sandwiches?”
“Lunch,” Dante clarified. “One of the women in the barn gave them to me. She’s going to give me your dinner later.”
“Rhonda?”
“I don’t know.”
“Yeah, you do. She stops by our table sometimes to talk to us.”
“Talk toyou,” Dante corrected.
“Maybe she’d talk to you too if you didn’t look anywhere but at her actual face.”
“Do I look at her pretend face instead?”
A retort barrelled from Sid’s brain to his lips but got lost on the way. He growled instead and rubbed his head again. “I don’t want to eat. I’ll fucking puke.”
Dante nodded. “I’ll get you some more water.”
He spirited into the kitchen before Sid could blink and returned with two bottles of water. He set them where Sid could reach and backed up. “I should get back to work before Benjamin thinks I’ve done a bunk.”
Sid scowled. “He asked you to check on me. He doesn’t get to berate you for doing it.”
“Mate, that was hours ago, and I left that weird zombie tool lying around. I need to put it away.”