She snorts, but nothing else comes from her. When I look her way, I find her already asleep. She hasn’t heard a word I said. Fuck, I wish she’d called me sooner—stubborn woman.
I make myself up a bed on the couch—again.
I don’t sleep much that night. I’m too busy listening to Stephanie’s breathing and checking on her. I hate that she’s this sick and that she didn’t say anything. It doesn’t matter now, though. I’m here for her and will be until she’s well again. I don’t care if she argues with me about it either. I’m up for the fight.
Chapter Six
Stephanie
I awaken feeling worse than last night. My head aches from all the nose-blowing during the night; I can’t breathe properly, and my throat feels like someone has shoved a rasp down it, peeling off several layers of skin.
I roll over groaning. I feel like death warmed over.
My door opens, light streams through the entryway and across the floor. It’s bright outside. Jake appears at my bedside, a stethoscope around his neck and thermometer in his other hand. He kneels at my side and places his hand on my forehead.
He frowns. “You don’t look any better.”
“I’m not but having a sexy doctor in the room helps make me feel a little better,” I rasp, then a coughing fit ensues.
He smiles as he leans closer with the thermometer. He places it in my ear and presses the button. It beeps, and he pulls it out. “We’re getting you to a doctor straight away. I don’t like your temp, and I suspect you may have an infection.”
“But you’re a doctor. A sexy doctor.” I try to flirt only it doesn’t come out that way.
“Flirting with me won’t get you out of going. I can give you basic care, but I can’t write you a prescription.”
“You could write one for some sexy time.”
He laughs. “Maybe if you’re a good girl and do as I say to get better then I might wear the stethoscope without a shirt on just for you.”
I lay back against the pillows. Suddenly, my throat feels sore again and talking is difficult, but I’m struck with an idea. I reach for my phone and type out a message.
Me: Can you get me some water or a coffee?
He smiles. “Sure. Lost your voice, huh?”
I nod at him. I type out another message.
Me: Is it really 8:30?
He nods. “I let you sleep as long as I could, but now you need to make a doctor’s appointment.” He exits the room, and I use what little voice I do have left to ring the doctor and set things up. They give me one at ten this morning.
Jake returns to my room, carrying two hot drinks in his hands. He places one on the nightstand and sits on my bed to sip his.
He glances around the room. “When was the last time this room was cleaned? Because when we’re done at the doctor, I’m coming back here to do just that.”
“You don’t have to,” I manage after a sip of coffee.
“I know, but I want to.”
He sips his drink, and I slowly sip mine. Though the heat from the coffee burns down my throat, it feels good to have something in my system. I haven’t eaten properly in days and barely managed a hot drink. It’s nice to have him here taking care of me.
“I need to shower.”
“Come on.”
He stands and pulls me up, then carries me down the hall into the bathroom. He turns on the shower.
“Not hot enough,” I say, turning the heat up.
“Too hot. Steph, you have a temperature,” he growls, turning it back down. “Now get in.”
He’s bossy, demanding and despite being sick, I love it. It’s exhilarating. He exits the room, and I remove my sticky clothes and jump into the water. The water is refreshingly cool on my skin. I have to admit that he’s right, but it doesn’t mean I have to like it or admit it to him.
I get out and grab a towel. There’s a knock on the door, it opens, and Jake’s head pops around the door. “I’m just checking to see if you’re okay.”
“I don’t feel good.” Tears break free as I feel my body weaken further. I hate feeling this crappy and should’ve listened to my body days ago and gone to the doctor.
He pulls me into his arms, allowing me to cry on his chest. He dries me down and then bends, scooping me into his arms. I lay my head against his shoulder. “All this carrying and I won’t know how to walk again.”
He grins at me and carries me into my room. He lowers me onto the bed, and I notice the freshly changed sheets.
“Thank you, but you honestly didn’t need to do this.”
“It’s no problem. I put the others in the wash; we’ll deal with them when we get back. Now let’s get you to the doctor.” He helps me dress and dries my hair, even going so far as to use my hairdryer. I’m honestly impressed.
“Where did you learn to use a hairdryer with such skill?”
“Aria taught me how. It used to be a tradition that she and Mum would do. They’d sit together doing their hair, so I continued it after Mum died.” His face is a little sad, and I reach my hand around to squeeze his own.
He picks up my handbag off the floor. “What the hell is in here, bricks?”
“Not quite, but close.”
“Sugar, you have a book in here. Seriously, a book. Do you really need it?” he asks.
“You never know when I might need it. Like waiting in the doctor’s office.”
“You will not read at the doctor’s office, Steph; you barely had enough energy to shower. Now let’s go, or we are going to be late.”
“Thank you for being here.”
“I’m glad I found you when I did.” He wraps an arm around me and helps me to the car.
I’m glad he turned up when he did too.
Jake
Stephanie’s doctor was a dick and didn’t believe me when I told him that her temperature was thirty-nine-point-five degrees. Then again, most medical professionals don’t like me given I wasn’t trained at a medical school, but rather through the Army. And I did complete a few courses through the medical school in Wellington and have the degree to prove my credentials, but the idiot wouldn’t know that.
We make it back to her place, complete with prescription antibiotics for her and a bag of clothes for me. I don’t intend on leaving Stephanie until I know she’s on the mend.
I lay her down on the bed where I strip her out of her clothes, so she’s left in a t-shirt and panties. This is agonising for me because my cock is demanding some fun, but I keep fighting the need.
She rests back against the pillows.
“Are you hungry?” I ask her.
“A little.”
“Okay, I’ll make you some toast and a coffee. I’ll get some water for you to take your medicine too, then I’ll come back, and we can watch a movie. It can be anything you like; I don’t care if it’s a girly film.”
“Sounds good.” I know she won’t get far into the movie before sleep claims her. She’s exhausted.
I was right about the infection. It’s in her throat and sinuses, coupled with a virus to boot.