Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 82163 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82163 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
I slept thirteen hours, and when I wake up, I feel like shit. My whole body aches, and I wonder if it’s because I’ve been burning the candle at both ends. Between moving here and then the partying, I’m exhausted. I get out of bed, and the minute I do, my body shivers. I put the back of my hand against my forehead, and I feel like I’m on fire. Getting up, I walk over to the bathroom and take my temperature, and only when I try to swallow do I feel like razors are going down. “Shit,” I curse, opening my mouth and looking in the mirror. I walk over to my phone and call Chase, who answers after one ring.
“Hello,” he greets, and I can hear that he’s in the car.
“Hey,” I reply. “I have a fever of one hundred and one, and I think I see white spots at the back of my throat.”
“We leave in three days,” he says out loud.
“What do you want me to say, Chase?” I ask him. “Should I tell strep throat to come back while I’m on vacation.”
“Are you home, smart-ass?”
“I am,” I confirm. “I can come to you.”
“No,” he says, “I’m on my way over to the rink. I’ll stop at your house first.”
“I thought hockey was done after you won the Cup,” I state, and he just laughs.
“I have to clean out my office and make sure that everything is ready for next season. I’ll be there in ten.”
I hang up the phone and walk back to the bathroom, taking my temperature again and seeing it hasn’t changed. I groan and make my way downstairs. I’m about to make a coffee when there is a knock on the door. I walk over and open it, seeing it’s Chase.
“You look like shit,” he greets me, and I just nod.
“Thanks.” I roll my eyes. “I wonder why because I feel like a million bucks,” I tell him, and he walks in with his little black bag.
He looks around. “Did you already unpack everything?” he asks, and I just look at him.
“I start work when I get back,” I inform him. “So I didn’t want to come home from vacation and have to unpack everything.”
“Sit down,” he urges, pointing at the stool in the kitchen tucked under the island table.
I sit down as he opens his bag and takes out blue medical gloves. “That’s a bit too much,” I say, and he laughs and feels under my chin toward my ears.
“Your lymph nodes are a bit swollen.” He opens his bag and takes out a tongue depressor. “Say ahh,” he says, “and stick out your tongue.”
“I know what to do.” I glare at him, sticking out my tongue. He presses down on it with the stick, making me gag. “You did that on purpose.”
“Did I?” He just looks at me. “You definitely have strep throat.” He looks at me, and I point at the sink. He turns and walks over to the sink, opening the bottom door and throwing out the stick and the gloves. He washes his hands right away. “I’m going to give you Zithromax since it’s a five-day dose. You’ll start to feel better after day three.”
“Wow, you would think I didn’t go to nursing school,” I remind him, and he just smiles at me.
“But are you a doctor?” He walks back to the black bag and grabs his white script pad.
“I don’t know if you heard,” I share with him as he fishes around his bag for a pen, “Nurses are higher up there than doctors.” He just looks over at me as I shrug. “Don’t hate the player. Hate the game.”
He throws his head back and laughs out loud. “That doesn’t even make sense.”
“What is all this noise?” Gabriella whines from on top of the stairs. “I’m trying to sleep.”
“Your sister has strep throat,” Chase tells her, and she just gasps.
“Am I going to get it?” She puts her hand to her throat, somehow trying to shield herself. “We leave for vacation in a couple of days,” she groans.
“You don’t think I know that,” I hiss at her. “You think I want to go on vacation sick?”
“Maybe I’ll go and stay with Mom and Dad.”
“Yes, do that,” I tell her as Chase rips the paper off the pad. “I’ll drive you.”
“This was fun,” Chase says. “Also, don’t forget that this can mess with your birth control.” Gabriella laughs, and I just glare at him as he holds up his hand. “I have to tell you.”
“Honey,” I yell up the stairs, “got to pick up condoms on the way back home today.”
He just looks at me with big eyes, going from me and then up to the bedroom, “I’m joking, dickhead.” I push away from the counter and walk over to the stairs. “Now, I’m going to go and get this filled, and I’m going to sleep until I have to pack.”