Fly with Me: a novel by Andie Burke

chapter 36

After the coughing fit slowed, Olive blinked and tugged at her neck. The room was a million degrees now. “You want me to what?”

“Take off your shirt.” Her tone was matter-of-fact. Not exactly how Olive imagined her saying these words for the first time. And Olive certainly had imagined her saying them.

Stella turned to rummage through a shopping bag on the bookshelf behind her and pulled out a round blue tub, holding it up like Vanna White or a model on The Price Is Right.

Oh.

“In my family we have a very specific way of doing Vicks. My abuela swore by it. Do you mind if I show you?”

Olive stood and tripped over her feet. Stella rushed forward and caught her, interpreting the fall as illness-related delirium rather than the fact that all the blood in Olive’s brain had gone to a very different part of her body at the thought of Stella rubbing hands all over Olive’s chest.

“Still dizzy?” Stella swept her fingers across Olive’s forehead with a featherlight touch that seemed too teasing to be real.

“Uh—” After her voice cracked, she cleared her throat and tried again. “Yeah. Still not feeling great.”

“This will make you feel better. I promise. Sit.”

Olive sat so quickly it was as if she were Gus with a treat dangled in front of his nose.

Stella’s fingers grazed the worn hem of the T-shirt, and Olive offered her a tiny nod. The cotton pulled over her head, leaving her in nothing but the bra that Olive profoundly wished wasn’t an old and discolored gray.

“Lie down.” Stella’s words were more clinical than Olive would like, but again, Olive obeyed without question. “Close your eyes.”

Olive closed her eyes and felt Stella’s nimble fingers working through her hair. She fanned the tangled waves out on the pillow beneath her and smoothed it. The touch was so delicate, Olive shivered.

“Are you okay? Chills?”

“Um. Yeah. A little, but I’m fine.” Olive coughed again, covering her mouth even tighter with her elbow to try to spare Stella from any more of her germs.

Olive heard the untwisting of a lid before Stella spoke in a low, sympathetic voice. “You’re okay if I put some of this on you? No allergies, right?”

“No allergies.”

“Okay, good. Scoot over just a little.”

Olive slid over and felt the bed shift. Shit. Stella Soriano was in her bed. Stella Soriano was in her bed, and Olive’s shirt was off. She could almost feel the heat of Stella’s breath on her bare skin as she spoke again.

“My grandmother always started at the temples.” Stella rubbed some of the ointment in a smooth, circular motion from her temples to her ears.

Tension in Olive’s forehead eased, and her body melted into the pillow.

“She always put it on our feet with socks too. I bought you some fuzzy cheap ones at the store, are you okay if I…”

“Anything.” Olive gave a tiny fake cough this time and tried to make her voice sound less like she was in a low-quality porno and more “normal” hoarse. “I mean, sure, anything would be great. Anything, like, to help with the cough, I mean.” So smooth.

The bed shifted once more, and Stella moved down near Olive’s feet. She rubbed the salve into the arches, the toes, the heels. Olive’s mouth went dry, and she stifled a moan at how fucking good it felt. Jesus Christ, this woman had missed her calling by becoming an airline pilot. She had magic hands.