by J. Nathan
Drew’s sharp intake of breath was quickly followed by him yanking away the cloth. “Fuck it.”
His large hands grabbed hold of my cheeks. My eyes flew open.
Before I could swallow down my surprise, his lips crashed down on mine, devouring me with fierce, determined movements. I tried to keep up—God did I try—but his lips moved with an unstoppable force. I opened my mouth slightly. That’s all it took. His tongue plunged inside, playing a game of tag, lapping away, consuming me whole.
My hands lifted to his shoulders, slipping around his neck and tunneling into the thick hair at his nape. I pulled him closer, wanting to wrap my legs around him to ease the ache between my thighs. If I wasn’t anchored to the bed, I would’ve. All. Night. Long.
Drew pulled back slowly, keeping his eyes locked on mine as his chest heaved as fiercely as my own. His tongue shot out and ran hungrily across his bottom lip.
“Didn’t realize that was part of our wager,” I whispered, as my numb lips fought to regain sensation.
Laughter erupted from him. “I know how to improvise.”
“Yeah?” I couldn’t stop my body from speaking for me. “I dare you.”
Without hesitation, he leaned down, capturing my lips again for a long heart-pounding moment where I lost all sense of time. All sense of my situation. All sense of…everything. God. I could’ve gotten lost in him forever. His manly scent. His unrivaled control. His overwhelming being. He pulled away wearing his signature cocky grin, his eyes transfixed on my swollen lips. “Any time.”
This time he sat up, causing my hands to slip away from his neck. Grabbing the bucket, he stood and walked into the bathroom, leaving me alone. Let me rephrase. Leaving me a complete pile of useless mush. Closing my eyes, my head fell deeper into my pillow.
What was that?
I’d like to say I took the time Drew remained in the bathroom pulling it together and calming my overly-excited body. But let’s get real. He was hot and completely overwhelmed every part of my being with that kiss.
Drew stepped out of the bathroom and pulled open the door. Sounds from the hallway poured inside. A cruel reminder the outside world still existed. “I’ll come by tomorrow,” he said from his spot in the doorway.
I nodded, as he slipped out into the hallway and disappeared from my room like he’d never been there at all.
CHAPTER SIX
Doctor Evans massaged my right thigh, kneading it like dough to get the blood flowing down. “Feeling a little better?”
My legs, yes. The fact that Drew hadn’t returned since the kiss the previous night—almost twenty-four hours before—not so much. “Both still throb a bit, but I figured that’s to be expected.”
“Especially with the physical therapist stretching your knee,” he explained. “Glad to see she’s got you out of the brace.”
I nodded. “Me, too.”
“Has she had you pedaling?”
“Yeah.”
“Good.” He gestured to my cast. “I’ll be sending you down to our rehab facility to get you working on this leg once we get the cast off.”
Out of the corner of my eye I noticed Drew slip inside my room. Was it bad that I could breathe normally again?
What had his kiss done to me?
What had he done to me?
I relied on one person for my happiness. And that was me. So why did it suddenly feel like Drew had control over it?
I peeked over at him standing in the corner of the room, his eyes focused on Doctor Evans’ hands on my legs.
“The hardware inside will take some getting used to,” Doctor Evans explained as his hands got dangerously close to my nether regions.
“Um, not sure I’m liking where this is going,” Drew warned like a jealous boyfriend.
Though his jealousy made me all warm and fuzzy inside, I shot him a look over Doctor Evans’ shoulder. “Shush.”
His eyes expanded. “Did you just shush me?”
“Yes.”
He grinned. “What are you like five?”
Doctor Evans glanced over his shoulder at Drew.
“Must be,” I shot back. “I’ve been hanging out with you, haven’t I?”
Drew threw back his head and laughed. So childlike. So carefree. Not at all like a guy with his health a complete mystery and professional future so undecided. “Hanging out? I’d say we’ve been doing more than that.”
My cheeks heated, and I found it difficult to meet Doctor Evans’ eyes when he turned back to me. “How’s your head?” he asked, completely ignoring Drew’s comment.
Thank God.
“My headache’s gone.”
“That’s good news.” He removed his hands from my leg and stepped back. “Do you need anything before I head out? It’s my anniversary and my wife made reservations.”
“I’ll be fine.” I glanced to Drew. “I’m in good hands.”
Doctor Evans glanced to Drew before nodding. “I’ll stop by to check on you tomorrow.”
“Okay. Happy Anniversary.”
“Thanks.” He smiled as he headed to the door and disappeared into the hallway.
Drew pushed off the wall and stalked toward me. “Was it as good for you as it was for him?”
“You just heard him. He’s married.”
“He’s married. Not blind.”
I tilted my head. “Is this you being funny?”
The mattress dipped as he sat beside me, kicking up his feet and letting his jean clad legs lay parallel to my cast. He leaned back beside me, sharing my pillow. His fresh powder scent invaded my senses, throwing a damn party in every little crevice. “No, I wasn’t being funny. But girls definitely love the sense of humor.”
My head fell toward him. His did the same. Inches separated us as I stared into his eyes, examining the flecks of mint green and the darker ring circling his iris. I wanted nothing more than to get lost in those eyes for a very long time. “Is that the only thing they love?”
His eyes dropped to my lips. “Well, the abs seem to be a crowd pleaser. And the eyelashes.” His eyes lifted to mine. “What is it with girls and long eyelashes?”
I moved my head from side to side. “No idea.” I inched closer, giving him the subtle go-ahead. “We like hats pulled down low, too.”
“Is that right?” He pressed his lips to mine, caressing them with soft, gentle kisses for a long body-numbing moment. When he pulled back, I didn’t make it easy, tugging his bottom lip with my teeth before letting it pop free. He smiled against my lips. “I’ve gotta go grab dinner with my parents. They’re stopping by.”
My head snapped back. “Will you be okay?”
He nodded. “Been handling them for twenty-two years. What’s an hour? You gonna be around later?”
I shook my head. “I’ve got a hot date. He’s taking me out clubbing. So…” I shrugged.
He reeled back enough to peruse my face. “Clubbing?”
“Oh yeah. I’m thinking about wearing a short dress to show off my cast. And if I’m feeling daring, I might even throw on my hooker heels.”
His eyes narrowed. “Hooker heels?”
I nodded, keeping my eyes trained on his. “Easily six inches.”
He lowered his voice to a sexy rasp. “I’d like to see you in those some time.”
Goosebumps popped up all over my body as he rolled off the bed, leaving my breathing labored and my heart galloping like a damn race horse.
As if he sensed it, he turned back with a lopsided smirk and pressed his hands into the mattress. He leaned down, his face lingering over mine, his proximity both tempting and torture. “I’m thinking summer around here might not be so bad after all.”
“Oh, yeah? Why’s that?”
He inched closer. But instead of indulging me with an answer, he pressed his lips to my forehead. “See you after your hot date.”
I pushed out an exasperated breath as he stood and walked toward the door.
He stopped in the doorway, turning to face me one last t
ime. “Just promise me one thing.”
“Don’t play quarters with anyone while you’re gone?” Sometimes I just couldn’t resist being a smart-ass.
He shook his head, his face suddenly serious. “Don’t go forgetting about me.”
“That’d be pretty hard to do.”
His head tilted to the side, his eyes pensive. “Why’s that?”
I shrugged. If he wasn’t going to give an inch, neither was I.
Drew’s slow spreading grin was the last thing I saw before he disappeared into the hallway. And only then, only when he was down the hall and out of air shot, did I exhale the breath I’d been unknowingly holding.
* * *
“Hi, Andi.” A woman I’d never met before stepped into my room. “I’m Doctor Fallon.” She wasn’t wearing a white coat like the other doctors, instead a pinstripe blue pant suit with her name badge dangling from her pocket. She looked at the empty chair beside my bed. “Mind if I sit?”
I shook my head. It wasn’t like Drew had returned from dinner yet.
She sat down and flipped open a manila file folder, scanning its contents. “How have you been feeling since your accident?”
“I’m sorry. But what kind of doctor are you?”
She glanced up, her face composed. “A psychiatrist.”
My eyes stretched wide. “Do I need a psychiatrist?”
“Not exactly. But sometimes patients with cerebral edema display adverse reactions.”
“Adverse reactions? What does that mean?”
She uncrossed her legs and folded her hands over the file folder on her lap. “Well, some complain of severe headaches. Some report memory lapses. Some experience hallucinations.”
My brows pinched. “Where do I fit into all that?”
“Doctor Evans mentioned—”
My eyes flared as my voice rose. “Mentioned what?” I struggled to pull enough air into my lungs as I sensed my life about ready to be turned on its head. Again.
Doctor Fallon leaned forward. “There’s no reason to become alarmed. He simply mentioned you’d made some comments when the two of you were alone earlier.”
“Alone? We weren’t alone. Drew was here.”
She cocked her head. “Drew?”
“Yes. Drew.”
“Okay.” She said it like she didn’t believe me.
Why didn’t she believe me?
“Some of the nurses also mentioned they’ve witnessed you carrying on conversations while you’ve been alone.”
My chest constricted as my mind reeled at warp speed. Sure my internal ramblings had been working overtime recently, but I never talked to myself. That was just insane.
We sat for a long time, neither saying a word. I gathered it was her approach. Give the patient time to think. Time to realize they were crazy. Well, I wasn’t falling for it.
After what felt like an eternity of silence, Doctor Fallon stood from the chair and walked out of my room. I wanted to yell after her, “And stay out!” But that wouldn’t have proven my sanity. At. All.
I closed my eyes and raked my fingers through my hair. Talking to myself? Who did she think she was? Who did Doctor Evans and the nurses think they were? If I was talking to myself—which I wasn’t—I had every reason to. I’d been stripped of my dream. Of my ability to walk. Of my independence. Cut a girl some freaking slack.
Doctor Fallon walked back in pushing a wheelchair. “I’d like you to take a walk with me.”
“Where?”
“To see Drew.”
“He’s having dinner with his parents.”
She eyed me across the room. I could see in the slight tightening around her eyes that she didn’t believe me. But why? “We can always just wait for him to return then, can’t we?”
Doctor Fallon wheeled me down to the fourth floor. We made our way through the long hallway, halting when a hefty nurse with fire engine red hair and an angry glare stepped in front of my chair.
“Excuse us, Margie,” Doctor Fallon said.
Margie dug her hands into her wide hips, her stare locked on Doctor Fallon’s. “I’m going to say this again. I don’t think it’s a good idea for her to be down here.”
“And I’ll repeat what I said,” Doctor Fallon said calmly. “It is.”
I looked to Margie. “If it’s his parents you’re worried about, he’s already told me they’re tough. I can handle them.”
Margie’s eyes narrowed as they jumped between Doctor Fallon and me.
“See,” Doctor Fallon said way too cheerfully to be authentic. “She’s a strong young lady. She can handle it.” With that, she moved me around Margie and continued down the hallway, stopping outside the last room on the right. The door sat slightly ajar, but not enough to see inside. She didn’t bother knocking. Instead, she just pushed it open.
Once I could see inside the dimly lit room, my heart stopped beating. I sat paralyzed. Stunned. Scared. Confused. Margie’s concern became painfully clear. And it wasn’t Drew’s parents.
My trembling hands grabbed hold of my wheel grips, and I slowly rolled inside.
My eyes drifted over the sight before me. Drew lay in bed with his eyes closed. A rubber mask covered his nose and mouth. His chest rose and fell as a ventilator pushed air into his lungs.
I stopped beside his bed and grasped his limp hand. No matter how hard I tried, I would’ve never been able to warm his icy flesh. With my eyes locked on him, and my heart now beating out of my chest, I asked the only question that mattered. “What happened?”
Doctor Fallon placed her hand on my shoulder. “He was in a serious accident.”
“An accident? I was just with him.”
Her grip on my shoulder tightened. “Andi. Drew’s been in a coma for almost a week.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Waves of agony rolled through my body as I sat at Drew’s bedside. I’d carried on an imaginary relationship with a guy in a catatonic state. I was bat shit crazy. How had I allowed it to happen? How had I given up control of my mind? Of my sanity?
Doctor Fallon wanted me to talk about my feelings. Talk about how it felt to discover I’d constructed the entire “relationship” in my head. But I respected her for not pushing the issue when I sat silently stunned. And though she made me promise to meet with her the following day, I appreciated her allowing me to stay with Drew even after she left.
I stared at his idle body. At the tubes and machines keeping him breathing. At the dim hospital room he’d been in for almost a week. None of it made any sense. I’d never seen Drew before that day in my room. Never even heard of him. How could I have known his name? How could I have known what he looked like? How could it have all been in my head?
I watched Drew’s chest lift and drop as his cold limp hand remained in my grasp like a dead weight. Just the day before, the same hand had given me an amazing sponge bath. Scratch that. The day before he’d been in a coma.
How would I ever be able to wrap my head around that?
Somehow, even with everything so screwed up, so unbelievable, so far from normal, being close to Drew comforted me. Like we were in it together.
Together?
God, I was so pathetic. We didn’t even know each other.
The longer I sat there, the more my mind fell devoid of all rational thoughts. All I could focus on was my waning sanity. My inability to differentiate between truth and fiction. My sad pathetic life.
As more time lapsed, the clicking and whistling of the ventilator became a messed up lullaby. And by some strange miracle, my exhausted and confused body drifted off into a much needed slumber.
* * *
“What…the…fuck?”
My head shot up from the side of Drew’s bed. Given the drool on my cheek and the orange glow outside the window, I’d been asleep for quite some time. My eyes flew to Drew. A loud whooshing came from the mask hanging off his mouth. His eyes were barely open but they stared directly at me. “You’re awake.”
He continued staring,
but didn’t speak.
“Let me get the doctor.”
His hand, still in my grasp, twitched. Was he trying to say something? Trying to stop me?
“I’ll be right back,” I assured him, slipping my hand free and reversing my chair out of his room. I’d like to say I did it with grace, but I bumped everything and its mother before making it into the hallway.
Margie and a younger nurse stepped out of the room next door.
“Drew’s awake! He’s awake.”
They didn’t hesitate, rushing by me right into his room.
My stomach twisted as I watched helplessly from the doorway as they checked his vitals while firing off questions.
“Can you tell me your name, honey?” Margie asked him, wrapping a blood pressure cuff around his arm.
“How about your birthday?” The other nurse asked, swiping a thermometer across his forehead.
“Do you remember being brought in?” Margie asked, her eyes focused on his blood pressure and heart rate readings flashing on the machine beside his bed.
Drew’s eyes followed them and their rapid movements, but he didn’t answer.
“Your parents have been here to visit. Do you have any recollection of that?” Margie asked.
Silence greeted her yet again.
Tears filled my eyes as I watched the heartbreaking scene play out…for so many reasons.
Margie’s eyes shifted to me in the doorway. She hurried over. “Honey, you’re going to have to go back to your room.”
“Is he going to be okay?”
Her lips twisted. “He’s awake. That’s a good start.”
* * *
I didn’t sleep after leaving Drew’s room. Instead, I researched comas and the likelihood of recovery on my phone. Most websites claimed patients required three days to recover for every day they were unconscious—if, of course, they’d shown positive signs like eye movement and attempted speech. Some sites gave little hope for recovery, all but guaranteeing a vegetative state.
But Drew had spoken. He’d heard me. He’d heard the nurses. That had to mean something.
While in research mode, I looked into the side effects of cerebral edema. Something I probably should’ve done a lot sooner. Ironically, confusion topped the list. Would’ve been nice to know that before learning I was nuts.
