It’s hard to do when he steps closer to me.
I glare at him.
“I’m just trying to be helpful!” He throws his arms up in the air, but he’s practically right beside me, invading my personal space.
“You and helpful aren’t two words that belong in the same sentence.”
He mocks injury like I’ve wounded his chest and throws a hand against his heart. “That burns, Firebreather.”
“I guess you gave me the right nickname.”
The elevator doors open, and I hurry out before he has time to reply. I’m jetting out the foyer and through the double doors like I’m on a mission. And I am, to get home and away from Liam.
I grumble under my breath, pissed at myself that I’m not clever enough to come up with a nickname for him.
Knowing my luck, I’ll think up one when he’s gone.
Liam is right behind me as I hurry across the lawn, intending to take a short cut, a few steps less, toward my building.
“In a hurry?” Liam guesses, and he’s got long legs, so it just takes him a few strides to keep up.
I feel like I’m running, which isn’t doing my racing heart any favors. The heat is also beating the hell out of me as it starts to finally lower along the horizon.
It’s not humid like Florida, but the heat and sunlight are enough to make me uncomfortable.
I’ve never quite understood it, but heat and I don’t get along. Winter is fine. I despise the cold, but it doesn’t make me sick.
Heat is an entirely different beast. I’ve spent more time in and out of doctor’s offices and the emergency room, getting IVs for dehydration. I faint more in the heat. I also can’t seem to focus, like my brain is a million miles away. It’s as if I step out into the sun and I’m instantly sucked of my life. I prefer the night and no, I’m not a vampire. Although at times it does feel a bit that way.
The heat is sweltering, and I grab the door handle, yanking it open, grateful for the cool blast of air inside as the air conditioning is pouring in and making the place bearable.
My head spins, dizziness overwhelming all of my senses.
I should have consumed a second drink of water in Sophia’s room. I finished the first bottle, not that it seems to have mattered.
I focus on putting one foot in front of the other.
I am not going to pass out in front of Liam Moretti.
Not like I haven’t already done that once today, but twice, absolutely not!
I will myself to stay upright, the cold air helping bring my senses back, one by one.
I’m in front of the elevator, staring at the button, and Liam steps beside me and pushes it.
“What floor?” Liam asks before we so much as step into the elevator.
He must notice the glazed look on my face, the fact that I can’t seem to focus and even so much as talking takes far too much energy.
Tunnel vision.
It sucks.
“Six,” I manage to rasp. I want to remark that he should remember he came up to my room, we kissed, but the words are too heavy on my tongue. They take more strength than I can muster.
I step forward, the nausea rearing its ugly head, sweeping over me as I grip the handrail in the elevator.
Not fucking, again.