JAY JAY POV
We finally reached the mansion
We looked like two drowned rats who had just lost a fight with a waterfall.
My hair was plastered to my face, my clothes were sticking to me in all the wrong places, and every time I took a step, my shoes made this pathetic squish-squish sound
"Oh my god! Kuya! Ate! Why are you guys so wet?! Did you jump into a fountain or something?" Keiran's voice boomed as soon as we stepped through the front door.
He was standing there with a bag of chips in one hand, looking at us like we were a new type of Science experiment he hadn't studied yet.
"Ate, go get changed! You're going to get a cold, and then who's going to grade my quiz next week?!" Keiran added, sounding genuinely worried
"Thanks, Keiran. It's nice to know your concern for me is just as overflowing as the rain outside," Keifer said, his voice dripping with more sarcasm than the water dripping from his suit jacket.
Keiran blinked, looking at his brother. "Oh, hey Kuya. I didn't see you there behind Ate. You should probably change too before you start rustling. You look like you're made of wet charcoal."
Keifer didn't even answer. He just let out a long, weary sigh
"Go, Jay. Hot shower. Now," Keifer commanded, his hand touching the small of my back.
"You take a shower first. You're the one who's always working, you might get a cold," I said, trying to sound like a responsible adult while I hurried toward our room.
Keifer didn't argue. He just followed me inside and—click—he closed the door.
I frozen. Why did that sound effect feel so… final? Like the start of a suspense movie where the heroine is about to get eaten by a very handsome shark?
I turned around, and there he was. He was leaning against the door, his arms crossed over his chest, and he had that look. The smirk.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" I squeaked, clutching my bag like it was a shield.
"Do you want to take a shower with me?" he asked, his voice dropping into that low, vibrating rumble that made my toes curl. "We can save water. And we'll both be cleaned… efficiently."
efficiency?!
My brain officially hit the System Overload button.
"H-HUWAT?!" I shrieked, my face turning a shade of red that probably glowed in the dark. "Save water?! Keifer Watson, you own half the city! You probably own the water company! Don't use environmentalism to hide your gago intentions!"
I was gesturing wildly with my hands, my brain cells currently running around in circles screaming.
"What? I'm just being eco-friendly, Teach," he teased, taking a step toward me.
His presence was completely swallowing the room. I could smell the rain and that addictive peppermint scent of his, and it was a lethal combination.
"ECO-FRIENDLY MY FOOT!" I barked, backing away until my calves hit the edge of the bed.
Keifer let out a low, genuine laugh—the kind that always made me want to melt into the floorboards. He didn't stop, though. He kept walking until he was inches away, his shadow completely covering me.
"You're so easy to fluster, Jay-jay," he murmured, reaching out to flick a stray, wet strand of hair away from my face. "Relax. I was just joking."
I stared at him, my mouth agape. Gago. Truly!
"That is NOT a funny joke!" I hissed, my chest heaving
"Go take a shower before I change my mind," he whispered, his voice sounding entirely too tempting for my own good.
Tss. I didn't need to be told twice! I bolted into the bathroom
. I stayed under the hot water for at least thirty minutes, letting the steam melt away the stress of seeing Jeana and the freezing rain. Honestly, I probably would have stayed in there until I turned into a prune, but I knew I had to face the billionaire waiting outside eventually.
When I finally stepped back into the room, wrapped in my fresh navy silk pajamas, I froze.
Keifer was still there. Still in his wet clothes. Still looking like a very handsome, very damp statue.
"Didn't you shower in the other room?" I asked, tilting my head.
He just shook his head, looking a bit dazed.
"Are you out of your mind?! Go take a shower!" I scolded him, pointing a finger toward the bathroom like he was one of my students caught sleeping in Biology class. "You're going to get sick, and I am not licensed to nurse a Watson back to health!"
He actually nodded, looking unusually obedient, and finally disappeared into the bathroom.
I sat at the vanity, vigorously drying my hair with a towel. I was trying to convince my heart to stop doing the cha-cha when I heard the bathroom door open. Keifer walked out, finally changed, but then—
"Ha-choo!"
He sneezed. And not just a small, cute sneeze. It was the kind of sneeze that sounded like his soul was trying to escape.
"Let's go to sleep," he said. But his voice... It wasn't that deep, arrogant rumble anymore. It was scratchy and sounded like he was talking through a pile of cotton balls.
"Idiot! You got a cold! Let me get a—" I started to stand up to find a thermometer and some soup.
"It's fine," Keifer cut me off, reaching out and catching my wrist. He pulled me toward the bed, his grip firm but his skin feeling way too warm. "I've survived worse things than a cold. Let's just go to sleep."
"Keifer, at least take some medicine!" I argued, trying to pry my wrist back. "You're a billionaire! Your brain is worth millions! You can't let it get scrambled by a virus!"
"No," he murmured, his eyes looking a bit glassy. He sat on the edge of the bed and looked up at me. "Sleep. I have you. That's enough."
My heart. Someone please call an ambulance, because that line just killed me. How can he say something so kilig-inducing while looking like a sick puppy?
"Keifer, please na," I said, using my best teacher-persuasion voice. "Just one pill. For me? I don't want to wake up next to a furnace."
He stared at me for a long moment, then let out a heavy, defeated sigh. "Fine."
I practically ran to the cabinet where the medicine was kept. I found the cold meds and a glass of water, marching back to him like a woman on a mission.
"Here. Drink this. All of it," I commanded.
He took the pill and swallowed the water, never taking his eyes off my face.
"Happy now, Teach?" he rasped, setting the glass down.
"Very," I huffed, though I was secretly relieved.
I climbed into bed, and before I could even settle under the covers, I felt a heavy arm wrap around my waist. He pulled me close, tucking his head into the crook of my neck. He was warm—definitely feverish—and he smelled like soap and illness, yet I couldn't bring myself to push him away.
"Jay-jay..." he whispered into my skin.
"Sleep, Keifer," I murmured, my hand instinctively reaching up to brush the hair away from his forehead.
He didn't argue this time. Within minutes, his breathing became slow and deep. I stayed awake for a while, listening to the rain and feeling the heat of him against me.
I woke up in the middle of the night because the human heater next to me was currently functioning like a volcanic eruption.
I blinked my eyes open, feeling the heat radiating off Keifer's body. I reached out a hand, gently pressing my palm against his forehead.
He was burning. My hand felt like I had just touched the surface of a boiling pot of rice.
I slowly, carefully, tried to untangle myself from his grip. He was still holding onto my waist like I was a life vest in a middle of a stormy sea, murmuring something incoherent in his sleep.
"Keifer, let go for a second... I need to get you something," I whispered, prying his fingers away one by one.
Finally free, I sat up and looked at him. How can a billionaire—a man who has an entire team of people to look after his every move—be so incredibly careless with his own body? He stood in that rain for me. He walked through that psychological minefield of a dinner for me. And then he had the audacity to say he was "fine" just to get some sleep.
I felt a sharp pang of guilt in my chest. If I hadn't been so caught up in my own drama with Jeana, maybe I would have noticed his shoulders shivering earlier. Maybe I would have forced him into that hot shower ten minutes sooner.
I scurried out of bed, my feet hitting the cold floor. I moved like a ninja—or at least, a very worried teacher trying not to trip over a plushie—and headed to the bathroom. I grabbed a small basin of cool water and a clean face towel.
I came back to the bedside, kneeling on the mattress next to him. I dipped the towel into the water, wrung it out, and gently placed it on his forehead.
Keifer flinched, a low groan escaping his throat. His eyes fluttered open for a split second, looking dazed and unfocused.
"Jay... jay?" he rasped, his voice sounding dry and painful.
"Hush, Keifer. Just stay still," I murmured, my voice softening as I wiped the dampness from his temples. "You're sick because you're a stubborn idiot who doesn't know when to get out of the rain."
He let out a weak, breathy chuckle, his hand fumbling blindly across the sheets until he found my free hand. He squeezed my fingers, his skin feeling like fire against mine.
"I'm... okay..."
"Liar. You're a furnace," I scolded, though I didn't pull my hand away.
I spent the next hour sitting there in the dim light of the lamp, refreshing the towel every time it got warm. I watched him sleep—really sleep this time—without the arrogant smirk or the cold business mask. He looked younger. He looked vulnerable.
I reached for the water glass on the nightstand, helping him take small sips every time he stirred.
"I'm sorry, Keifer," I whispered, tucking the duvet tighter around his shoulders. "This is a five-yard penalty for making your wife worry like this. You better be ready to pay me back in extra gravy when you wake up."
If he keeps being this selfless, I'm going to end up actually falling for him. And that's a disaster I'm definitely not prepared for.
I closed my eyes, resting my head near his shoulder, letting the rhythmic sound of his labored breathing luh me back to sleep. "Don't you dare get any worse, Keifer," I muttered into the darkness. "That's a direct order from your teacher."
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KEIFER POV
I woke up and the first thing I felt was the weight of the air—it felt heavy, like I was breathing through a thick blanket. My Head was throbbing, and my skin felt sensitive, like every nerve was on high alert.
Then, I felt a movement next to me.
I turned my head slowly and saw Jay-jay. She was sitting up against the headboard, her eyes half-closed as if she had been awake half the night. The moment she heard me stir, her eyes snapped open, wide with worry.
"Jay," I croaked. My voice sounded like it had been dragged through gravel.
She didn't even say good morning. She immediately reached out and pressed the back of her hand against my forehead, then her palm, then her other hand. Her touch felt like ice against my skin—blessed, freezing ice.
"OMG! What the hell?! Are you a volcano?!" she shrieked, her voice hitting that high-pitched teacher note of pure panic. "Keifer, you're literally steaming! That's it, I'm calling the doctor."
She started to scramble out of bed, her face pale.
I reached out, my hand heavy and clumsy, and caught her wrist.
"Jay... wait," I murmured.
"No! Let me call them, please!" she said, looking down at me with eyes that were already welling up. "You're burning, Keifer. You're not fine. Stop being a stubborn
for five minutes!"
I looked at her—at the way her hair was a mess, the way she was wearing those silk PJs I bought her, and the way she was looking at me like I was the only thing that mattered. I realized then that I couldn't win this argument. I nodded slowly, letting my hand drop.
Before she turned away, she leaned down. It was quick—hardly more than a ghost of a touch—but she pressed her lips to my forehead.
A kiss.
My heart did a slow, painful thud against my ribs.
I watched her scurry toward the phone, her voice frantic as she started explaining the situation to the family doctor. I stayed there, staring at the ceiling, feeling the spot on my forehead where her lips had been.
It felt strange.
I'm the head of the Watson Group. I'm the one who takes care of Keigan's messes and Keiran's school problems. I'm the stone. Ever since my mom's light went out, I haven't had anyone look at me with that much raw, unshielded care. The maids follow my orders, the doctors follow my bank account, but Jay-jay?
She was looking at me like I was just Keifer. Not the CEO. Not the billionaire. Just a guy who was stupid enough to stand in the rain.
Only my mom used to take care of me like this.
I felt a lump form in my throat that had nothing to do with my cold
Why does this girl have to be so... Jay-jay? She was currently pacing by the window, waving her hands around as she argued with the doctor about "immediate medical intervention," and all I could think about was how much I wanted to pull her back into the blankets.
I closed my eyes, a small, tired smirk touching my lips despite the fever.
"You're in trouble, Keifer," I whispered to myself.
Because if she keeps treating me like this—like I'm someone worth protecting—I'm never going to let her leave this house.
"Keifer? Why are you smiling?! Are you hallucinating?!" Jay-jay's voice cut through the room as she rushed back to the bedside with a fresh wet towel. "Stay with me, Watson! Don't go toward the light!"
"I'm not hallucinating" I murmured, reaching for her hand. "I'm just enjoying the view."
"You are definitely delirious," she huffed, but she didn't pull her hand away. In fact, she squeezed it back.
And for the first time in years, being weak didn't feel so bad.
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