“What triggers them?”
He winces, and I step back. “What is it?”
“It’s a little painful. My chest and lungs feel sore afterward, but I’ll be okay. It’ll pass.”
I fidget with my shirt, feeling helpless and wishing I could do something to make him better.
“I think it was the dust,” he states after a moment. “I found the batteries and came in here to get the ladder.”
“Well, let me change them out. I’m sure I can figure it out.”
He flashes me a wary look.
“What? I can. Just talk me through what to do.”
“Okay, well. You gotta carry that ladder inside the house. Think you can do that?”
I look up at the wall where it’s hanging. It’s at least eight feet, and there’s no way I’m gonna be able to lift it on my own. “Oh, definitely.”
Eli chuckles and backs away. “I’ll put on a mask and get it. Don’t worry.”
“Hey.” I grab his arm and move him toward the door. “I can totally do it.”
His eyes lower to my hand, and he smirks. “Alright, be my guest.”
Chapter Ten
ELIJAH
Watching Cami struggle to carry the ladder is comical. She’s about to take out the dining room chandelier, and no matter how many times I offer to help, she insists she’s got it.
I direct her to a spot in the living room where we should check first, but honestly, it could be any one of the smoke detectors. It’s too high to actually know until you’re closer to it.
“Alright, here is good.” I grab one side of the ladder and set it on the floor. “You climbing up or am I?”
“Nope, you stay right there. I’m doing this.”
Digging into my pocket, I grab a battery and hand it to her. “Okay, here you go.”
Once the ladder is secure, I hold the other side and watch as she carefully climbs it. Her face pales the higher she goes. “You’re not afraid of heights, are you?” I ask.
“No. Well, maybe a little.”
I snort, chuckling. “Don’t worry. I won’t let you fall.”
“That’s very reassuring when I can hear you laughing.” She makes it to the second to the top step and reaches the smoke detector. I instruct her on how to remove the old battery.
“Now make sure the positive and negative are lined up correctly.”
“Okay, I’m not that stupid,” she retorts.
“I’m just trying to be helpful,” I say, moving to the other side so I can get a better look. “But if it’s wrong, you’ll have to go back up and fix it.”
She sighs loudly. “Fine. I’ll double-check.”
Once she snaps it in and secures the cover, I tell her to hold the test button until it beeps. “You did it.”
“You doubted me?” she taunts, slowly climbing down. I hold the sides of the ladder even as her ass brushes against me.
“I’d never,” I tease, but it’s hard to concentrate with her this close.
“I think you can let go now. I can’t hurt myself falling from one foot off the ground,” she states as my chest presses against her back.
Releasing my grip, I step away, giving her space. “Good job,” I tell her when she spins around and faces me. “Only ten more to go.”
Her proud expression drops. “Are you serious?”
I grin. “Nah, you got the right one.”
She smacks me, and when I cough, her eyes go wide, and she covers her mouth. “Oh, shit. I’m sorry. I forgot already.”
My chest still feels a little tight, and not getting enough oxygen exhausts me, but she’s been a good distraction.
I haven’t had an attack of that magnitude in months, and it’s a good thing we never did smoke since there’s always a chance that can trigger an attack. I was caught off guard, but I should’ve known better. The garage hasn’t been used in who knows how long, other than Cami parking her Range Rover in there, and there was dust everywhere. As soon as I moved shit around, it triggered my asthma. I typically only need my inhaler when I work out too hard or during allergy season, but I’m thankful she was here to get it for me. Her springing to action and being so concerned made me realize she cares about me more than she lets on.
“You’re fine, but maybe don’t beat me up right after I can breathe again.”
She rolls her eyes and shakes her head. “Now you’re just trying to make me feel bad.”
“I’d never.” I retreat, putting space between us.
“Mm-hmm. Well, it’s not gonna work anyway.” She takes a step toward me.
Folding my arms over my chest, I step forward. “Don’t want your pity anyway, never have.”
“Do you have to argue with me on everything?” She closes the gap between us until our bodies press together.
Leaning down, I retort, “Do you have to argue with me on everything?”
She narrows her eyes. “Just for that, you can haul that ladder back into the garage on your own.”