Never Say Never by Rachael Sommers (books to get back into reading TXT) 📕

though she suspected only one of her patients would actually eat.

When she went to retrieve them from the bathroom, Jaime wobbled to his feet, but Emily staggered when she tried to stand. Camila reached out to steady her.

“Thank you.” She was so pale, skin warm to the touch, and once Camila had wrestled them onto stools at the breakfast bar, she handed the thermometer to Emily.

“Seriously?”

Camila raised an eyebrow, and Emily sighed, then stuck it in her mouth. Camila frowned when she saw the result.

“You’re running a fever.”

“Really? ’Cause I feel great.”

Camila rolled her eyes.

“Do I have to eat this?” She glanced at the bowl in front of her. “Because I don’t know if I can.”

“Try.”

She sipped at a few spoonfuls, then pushed the bowl away. Jaime had long since finished.

“You were hungry,” she said, and he nodded. “You can have some more, if you like.”

“Can I go draw? I want to make Emily a picture to cheer her up.”

“Of course you can, sweetheart.” Camila watched him scurry over to his crafts table before turning back to Emily. “You should eat some more.”

“I really don’t think I can.”

“You must be ill,” Camila teased, and Emily managed a weak smile. “Do you want something to drink? Water? Tea?”

“Camila, you don’t have to—”

“Yes, I do.” Camila waved her off. “You looked after my son all day, even when you were ill yourself.”

“But I should get going—”

“You’re not going anywhere like this,” Camila told her sternly, folding her arms across her chest. “Stay the night. Let me keep an eye on you until you’re feeling better. Please.”

“I”—Emily grimaced—“really need to use your bathroom.” She stumbled off the stool.

A few minutes later, Camila knocked on the bathroom door. Emily merely groaned, so she left a bottle of water on the floor outside and went to sit with Jaime, who was drawing yet another picture of the three of them together.

“I wish you and Emily would get married.” Jaime tossed out the words carelessly, his head bent over the page, but Camila froze, stunned into silence.

“I’m afraid that’s not going to happen, Jaime,” she said eventually, but the words stuck in her throat.

“Why not?” He looked up from his drawing, frowning. “Girls can marry other girls. It’s in one of the books that Emily read to me.”

“I know they can, sweetheart.” Camila smiled at the education Jaime was getting.

“Then why not? Don’t you want to marry her?” Jaime asked. “She makes me happy. She’s nice and funny, and she makes you happy too. More than Daddy did.”

The fact that Jaime had noticed her strained relationship with Chris shocked her, and she felt guilty.

“Do you like her?”

“Of course I do, Jaime.”

“Then you should get married.” He nodded, firm in his belief.

If only everything could be that simple.

“I don’t think Emily would want to marry me, sweetheart.”

“Have you asked her?”

“I… Well, no.”

“Then how do you know?”

“I just do.”

Jaime looked skeptical, but before Camila had a chance to explain further, she heard Emily clear her throat.

She hovered a few feet away, looking like she’d been caught doing something she shouldn’t. Camila wondered how much of the conversation she might have heard—it wasn’t really incriminating, all things considered—but she didn’t dare ask.

“Feeling better?”

Emily grimaced.

“I’ll take that as a no.”

“Thanks for the water.” She waved the half-empty bottle, then sat in the armchair nearest the couch. “Are you sure about me staying here? Because I can call my sister and she can probably come get me.”

“Probably?”

“She’s on the night shift this week.”

“Then that settles it—you’re staying. You shouldn’t be at home on your own.”

“You’re staying?” Jaime turned around hopefully from where he was drawing.

“She’s not staying to play with you.” Camila told Jaime gently. “Emily is staying to rest.”

Jaime pouted, but he quickly perked up. “Want to see my drawing?”

Emily nodded, and he got up from his table to show her his work.

“Do you like it?”

“I love it, buddy. I’m gonna hang it up on my wall.”

“Really?” he asked, beaming.

“Really. Go put it somewhere safe for me, okay?”

He found the sketch pad that Emily had given him and placed the drawing carefully inside. Then he climbed on the couch, cuddling up against Camila.

They watched TV until Jaime started yawning. Camila put him to bed. When she returned to the living room, Emily had her eyes closed. She looked miserable.

“Are you going to be okay?”

“I hate being sick.” Emily said. “I’m not very good at it.”

“Me either,” Camila admitted, and she was glad that she had so far escaped the illness. “Would you like to play a game to take your mind off it?”

“You just want to beat me again, don’t you? Way to kick a girl when she’s down.”

“You might win.” Camila lightly touched her shoulder as she walked by on her way to the cabinet where she kept a few games. “Think how much that’ll cheer you up.”

“Okay, we both know that’s not going to happen.”

“Not with that attitude,” Camila replied. “What do you want to play? We can have a Scrabble or Catan rematch.”

“Both, if I can stay up long enough.”

Camila set both boxes down on the coffee table and pushed the armchair—with Emily in it—closer to the couch so she could play comfortably.

They played Scrabble first, and Emily pouted when she got soundly beaten both times. She was clearly a sore loser, and Camila found it adorable.

And the more time Camila spent with her, the more adorable she became.

She learned new things about her, like when she was concentrating, she chewed on her bottom lip and pinched her eyebrows. When she had a good word, her eyes lit up.

It was a miracle Camila won, considering she spent as much time studying Emily as she did the board. She couldn’t seem to look away.

She was getting in deep, perhaps too deep, and she didn’t know how to stop it, didn’t know if she even wanted to, because her heart flipped whenever Emily glanced up and caught her eye. It was the kind of exhilaration that she never thought