Chapter 95
Chapter 95:
“I’m not acting, Joss,” he whispered to the air. “I’m not acting p>
He pulled back onto the road, driving as though he were carrying a crate of nitroglycerin.
Meanwhile, Kieran was dialing his phone.
“Aspen,” he barked when she answered. “Find out if Jocelyn is pregnant p>
Aspen screamed on the other end. “What p>
“I saw her on the highway. Throwing up. Gaston was… coddling her. We need to know p>
𝗧𝗋e𝘯𝘥𝗂n 𝗼𝗻
Gaston carried Jocelyn into the penthouse. She was burning up now, a dead weight in his arms.
Mrs. Higgins, the housekeeper he had poached from Kieran’s staff because Jocelyn liked her, rushed into the foyer.
“Oh my heavens! Is she okay p>
“Flu. Exhaustion. Stress,” Gaston listed. “Get the cool compresses. And the thermometer. And call Dr. Evans p>
He carried her into the master bedroom — his bedroom. The guest room felt too far away. If her fever spiked in the middle of the night, he needed to be right there. He laid her on his massive bed.
He started to unbutton her coat.
Jocelyn woke up, swatting at his hands weakly. “Don’t… I look awful p>
“You look sick. Stop fighting me,” Gaston said firmly. “I need to get your temperature down p>
He stripped off her coat, her blazer, her shoes, leaving her in her slip dress. Her skin was flushed pink.
Mrs. Higgins ran in with a bowl of ice water and cloths. Gaston dipped a cloth, wrung it out, and pressed it to Jocelyn’s forehead — then another to her neck.
Jocelyn sighed, a long, broken sound. She leaned into his touch. “That feels good p>
Dr. Evans arrived twenty minutes later and checked her vitals.
“Viral flu,” the doctor confirmed. “High fever. She needs fluids and rest. Keep her cool. If it goes above 103, call me p>
Once the doctor left, the room fell quiet. Mrs. Higgins brought a tray of medicine and left them alone.
Gaston helped Jocelyn sit up to swallow the pills. Then he sat on the edge of the bed, watching her.
The room was dim, lit only by a bedside lamp.
“About the kiss…” Jocelyn whispered. Her eyes were half-closed, glassy from the fever and the medication.
Gaston tensed. “Yeah p>
“You should win an Oscar,” she slurred slightly. “You almost convinced me p>
Gaston let out a slow breath. She still thought it was fake. Of course she did. She had built a fortress of logic around the gay husband theory.
“I take my role seriously,” he said quietly, looking at her hand resting on the duvet.
“But… Vance…” she mumbled, turning her face into the pillow. “Does he kiss like that? Does he mind p>
Gaston clenched his jaw. He wanted to shake her. He wanted to scream.
“There is no boyfriend, Jocelyn,” he said. His voice was clear and firm.
But Jocelyn’s breathing had already evened out. The medication had pulled her under. She was asleep. She hadn’t heard him.