Page 18 of Dotted Lines (Runaway 5)

I’d take them all if weight and space were unlimited, but I had to pack my entire life’s possessions into bags I could carry. Everything else in the truck would be left behind, because when we left here, I was beginning to realize, we wouldn’t be coming back.

Climbing down from the back of the truck, I made my way to Karson’s tent. When I passed Londyn’s Cadillac, I ran a hand over the top. A twinge of longing and guilt made me pull my hand away. Londyn had been my friend and I had a major crush on her boyfriend—ex-boyfriend.

Not that it mattered. Karson didn’t like me that way.

When I reached the tent, I drew in a steadying breath. Be cool. Don’t smile too much. Don’t stare. Just be cool. Then I rapped my knuckles on the metal siding beside the tarp that was the door.

“Karson?” I called whe

n he didn’t answer.

A groan caught my ear. I hesitated, waiting, then peeled away the tarp to poke my head inside. “Karson?”

“Yeah,” he grunted from his bedroom.

“Are you okay?” I dropped my gaze to my feet. He was a boy—man. My mind immediately went to Karson naked and . . . doing things. To himself.

Freaking romance novels.

“Can I come in?” I asked, squeezing my eyes shut to block out the image of a naked Karson.

“Yeah.”

I shoved the tarp aside and stepped inside, giving myself a minute to adjust to the dim light. He was lying on his sleeping bag in the fetal position. “Oh my God. Are you sick?”

He hummed his agreement.

I rushed to his side and pressed a palm over his forehead. “You’re burning up.”

“I’ll be okay. Just need to rest.”

No. This was bad. It was rare that any of us got sick, but it was terrifying when we did. There were no moms here who knew what to do. No doctors to call and ask for advice.

I shoved off the floor and raced out of the tent, running to the truck. “Aria, Karson’s sick.”

“What?” She flew off her bed, the book tossed aside as I vaulted inside.

“Where’s the first aid kit?” I asked even though I was already rushing for the backpack where we kept the small plastic box.

Gemma had gotten sick a couple years ago. It had scared Karson enough that he’d gone to Lou, who’d given him a bottle of Tylenol. After Gemma had left for Montana, the medicine had been given to us in case of emergency.

Today was that emergency.

I ripped the first aid kit open and grabbed the Tylenol, then scanned the truck for the fresh bottle of water I’d bought at the store earlier. From my clean clothes stack, I plucked the last washcloth. Aria and I were planning to go to the laundromat tomorrow so I could wash the others.

“I’m going to stay with him,” I said, jumping down to the dirt.

“Want me to come too?”

I shook my head. “We can’t all get sick.”

She sighed, crossing her arms. “I hate this.”

“Me too. Lock yourself in tonight. I’ll sleep in the tent.”

“Be careful. Yell if you need me.”

“I will.” I rushed back to Karson, finding him exactly where I’d left him.