Jayden let himself into the house at half past seven, all set for whispering and tiptoeing around and a sort-of suicide watch, only to find the TV blaring some action film, Rachel watching in rapt attention, and Darren bundled up on the sofa in a duvet and a thousand cushions, looking drowsy, but actually awake.
“Hello,” Jayden breathed, bending to kiss the top of that curly head. “How are you feeling?”
Darren looked half-asleep, those tropical eyes distinctly hazy, and he was shivering very faintly. Jayden frowned. “M’cold,” Darren explained and scrubbed a huge hand over his face with a yawn.
Rachel turned down the TV. “He woke up about two and was shivering like crazy,” she said. “I called the quack, he said to just keep taking his temperature, but it’s probably the fluo-thing.”
“Flu
