Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 60487 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 302(@200wpm)___ 242(@250wpm)___ 202(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60487 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 302(@200wpm)___ 242(@250wpm)___ 202(@300wpm)
Carl gently pushed Grayson’s head back for that naughty comment. “I might have some respect for you and admire your ability to be everywhere at once and appreciate your overall form, but let’s be clear. I’m not into you.”
“’Course not.”
“You’re unbelievable.”
“Why, thank you.”
Carl rolled his eyes and pulled Grayson up. “You really like people liking you.” Carl patted Grayson’s chest over the heart. “Next is to like liking them back.”
“All those likes make me dizzy. Could you . . . drive us back?”
Carl kept a close eye on Grayson all the way back to his bike. He wheeled it to the ute and heaved it into the bed. When he turned back, it was to find Grayson slouched against the passenger door, dozing off.
“Grayson? Grayson?”
A moan was his only response. Those dark eyes stayed firmly shut, and his head rolled forward. Yikes, he was running a real fever. Carl left him dozing while he dashed to the store for ibuprofen and a bottle of water, then tried to get the man to swallow it. Carl lightly slapped his cheek. “Wake up, you need to take this. Bring the fever down.”
Grayson folded in half, buckling to the curb where he curled up like he was set to sleep for the night. Okay, then. So Grayson was the type who turned into a big toddler when he was sick. Carl dropped to his knees, water and two white pills ready. “Open up.”
Grayson snuggled into his crooked arm.
“Open up or I’ll shove my finger in your mouth.”
Still no answer.
Fine, he asked for it—
He slipped the pills over Grayson’s tongue and squirted water. Grayson swallowed instinctively and the suction pulled on Carl’s finger. Gah. “Not a lollipop, let go—not a carrot either!” Carl wrangled his poor throbbing finger free and glared at his sleepy, sick companion. “I swear I’ll never stick anything into your mouth again.”
For the keys, though—where were the gardening forks when one needed them?—he had to stick his throbbing finger into the confines of Grayson’s pocket. He snagged the metal, pulled the keys free, and wrangled Grayson into the passenger seat. “Hands down the most un-sexiest moment of my life.”
Grayson made a sound suspiciously like a scoff, and Carl talked himself out of pinching the sick.
By the time they reached Berhampore, Grayson was snoring. Instead of waking him to get his address, Carl drove home to Jason’s and parked in the driveway. He grabbed blankets from inside, let the seat down, and made it as comfortable as possible. Seated beside his patient, Carl jotted notes for his assembly speech. He left briefly to visit the bathroom and yelped when he found Grayson had stumbled his way into the hallway. He was half awake and coughing, leaning against one of Jason’s framed certificates. “Bathroom.”
Carl showed him the way and left him to it, and a few minutes later Grayson emerged to find the nearest soft surface—the sofa—to collapse onto. “I’ll crash here a bit.”
He was still there at five in the morning, the blankets Carl had provided kicked off to the floor along with Jason’s jacket and a damp undershirt. Carl did him a favour and messaged Sage that he wouldn’t make it to the bakery, told the sleeping man he was welcome, and continued preparing for Leo’s assembly.
“Need an excuse not to touch the piano,” he murmured.
A gravelly voice murmured back a most brilliant solution.
“Excellent. Are you awake?”
“No.”
“Then I won’t throw you out. Sleep on.” He left Grayson with more painkiller, a pot of ginger tea, and a note, and went to shop for necessary items. A few hours later, carrying a few hundred bribes, he gulped his way into Leo’s school.
Leo escorted Carl from the gate, non-stop admiration and gratitude for Jason helping him out. The kid’s step contained a bounce that Carl hadn’t seen before—and it, along with last night’s confirmation, convinced Carl that playing Jason Lyall was the right thing to do.
The hall was abuzz with excited chatter as lots of green-and-yellow uniforms took their seats. And Leo led Carl up the front, to the stage. It held a daunting-looking grand piano; Carl faced it down as he moved to the microphone and greeted the audience.
It was thrilling enough to be speaking to kids, but his heart raced harder when he caught sight of three rows at the back for parents. Perched one-two-three in the first of those rows were his favourite witches. Grand.
He searched for Sage and found her standing in the corner along with a few others that didn’t get seats. She smiled brightly and waved, and Carl became even more committed to the act. “Hello everyone here today. I originally intended to start this presentation with a short performance but”—he tugged Jason’s jacket sleeve up his arm, revealing a bandage—“I sprained my arm and must avoid any strenuous activity.”