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body.
    “Achilles?”
    “Yes?”
    “Where did you go? I’m worried about you now. You look like you’re trying to take a shit.”
    I laughed at that and the whole table stopped talking and looked right at me. I shrugged, grunted a little, and they went back to their conversations.
    “I’m just in my own little world right now,” I tried to explain.
    Harley leaned in and placed his hand on my arm. I looked down at where his hand was, then back to his eyes. Our eyes met and I swore I saw something in Harley’s. Not sure what, but it was there. Maybe I was seeing what I wanted to see, a mutual attraction, even though Harley was as straight as they came — or I thought he was. The kiss in the bathroom in L.A. wasn’t that of a straight man.
    “Why don’t we head out?” he asked softly.
    “Did you eat enough?” I asked.
    “I ate all your fries.” Harley gave me a sheepish grin.
    I looked down at my plate. Sure enough, Harley had eaten all my fries.
    “Okay. Let’s go.”
    After saying bye to the guys, Harley straddled my bike once more, but he let me drive. I looked over my shoulder at him as he snapped his helmet on.
    “Don’t feel like taking her for a spin?” I asked.
    “Maybe some other time. I’m not feeling so hot all of a sudden.”
    “What did you drink?” I turned partially on the bike and touched his cheek. He felt a little warm.
    “Just soda.”
    “Maybe you’re coming down with something?”
    “Maybe.” Harley nodded and tipped his head back, inhaling the cool air.
    “Let’s get you home.”
    I pulled out of the parking lot and stopped. Something felt off and I couldn’t put my finger on it.
    “What is it?” Harley asked.
    “It’s nothing, I guess.” I placed his hand on my abdomen. “Hang on, okay?”
    Harley wrapped his arms around my waist and I pulled out into the alley behind the diner. I retraced Harley’s path and made it back to his place in ten minutes. I pulled into his driveway and helped him off the bike. Harley wobbled a bit, so I held on to him. I removed his helmet and checked him thoroughly.
    “You’re a little warm. I don’t like it.” I peered into his eyes. They were glazed over. “Maybe you should see a doctor.”
    “Nah, I’m good. I’ll get over whatever this is. I don’t get sick often.”
    “Which is why I’d like you to see a doctor, Harley.” Harley slumped in my arms and exhaled loudly. I held him up and his head fell back, a lazy smile turned his lips.
    “S’all good, Achiiilllleees,” Harley slurred.
    “Okay, that’s it.” I picked Harley up and carried him into the house. I set him down on his bed and took off his shoes. Harley rolled to his side with a sigh and curled into the fetal position. I covered him with a comforter and headed into the kitchen to use the phone. The phone number for the band’s personal doctor was on the fridge and I called him immediately.
    “Doc Mathis here,” he answered.
    “Um, this is Achilles Castellanos, Harley’s bodyguard? Um, I think he’s sick.”
    “Well, hello, Achilles. Is he running a fever?”
    “He seems warm.”
    “I’ll be there in ten.”
    I hung up and paced the room. Harley seemed fine at the diner and now he wasn’t. Maybe it was food poisoning? I went back to Harley’s room to see him leaning over the side of the bed. I ran and grabbed the trashcan just in time to catch Harley puking out dinner.
    “Achilles,” Harley rasped.
    “I’m here.” I sat on the edge of the bed and smoothed his hair back.
    “Stomach hurts.”
    “Lay back,” I instructed him.
    Harley did as he was told, and I rubbed his stomach in soft, slow circles. It was something my mother had done for me whenever I was sick and it helped me. I hoped it helped Harley. Harley sighed and his eyelashes fluttered. Even sick, he was the most gorgeous man I’d ever laid eyes on.
    “How’s that feel?” I asked.
    “Better. You don’t look so hot either.” Harley motioned to my face.
    I blinked and tried