Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 75699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
“I guess that’s something.” Declan gave a reluctant shrug as the doctor and his students exited the room.
“I should get started looking for Portland or Mount Hope rehabilitation centers with TBI experience that might have openings.” Sean stood, vacating the smaller visitor’s chair near the bed. “But I can wait until after the nurse comes in to remove the catheter. I’ll help you get settled in the recliner.”
“Dad. Go.” Declan’s expression turned decidedly irritated, color still high on his cheeks and mouth pursed. “Please. Go do your research. Jonas can help the nurse.”
“I guess that works.” Sean cast me an uncertain glance. I nodded, hoping I didn’t look too eager to be alone with Declan again. Sean stooped to kiss the top of Declan’s head before exiting the room.
“Sorry.” Declan adjusted the angle of his hospital bed with his uninjured hand so he was more able to meet my gaze as I settled back into the plastic chair. “I didn’t mean to volunteer you for more helping. You’ve done a lot already. But if Dad took charge of one more thing, I was gonna scream.”
“Trust me, I understand. I hate being managed too.”
“Yes, exactly.” He nodded, offering the ghost of a smile. “At least you never talk about me like I’m not in the room.”
“I try.”
“It’s okay if you need a break though. I’m sure the nurse can handle getting me moved.” Declan made a shooing motion with his hand, but I stayed put. “It’s not like I get to actually go anywhere.”
“The nurses are short-staffed, and you’re not a tiny guy. Plus, you have casts to maneuver.” I made my tone reasonable, hiding my vested interest in sticking around. “I can help. Nothing I haven’t done before.”
I was lying, a fact made clear once the overworked young nurse and nursing assistant came in to help Declan. Nothing about this situation felt familiar. With my own patients, I could care and care deeply, but I didn’t wince when they winced or feel physical pain when they groaned. With Declan, though, things felt so much more personal. I understood Sean’s urge to hover because I also wanted to protect Declan.
I stepped outside briefly to give him privacy while the nursing staff handled the catheter and got his IV and gown situated for the short trek to the chair, but I heard his “Ow” all the way to my soul. I hurried back into the room in time to help support his injured side as the four of us hobbled the couple of steps to the recliner.
“Okay. Okay. I’ve got this.” Declan huffed and puffed like he was on an uphill climb at the end of a marathon. He kept blinking, likely because he was lightheaded, not that he’d admit it, and I breathed easier once he was settled in the recliner, blankets around his waist, IV nearby, and table positioned so he could reach his water jug. It was a whole production, and Declan let his head fall back against the chair as the nurses left the room. “Why do I feel like I just finished a week at nationals? All I did was move three feet.”
“Give it time.” I dragged the visitor’s chair over next to the recliner. For the first time, we were face to face, a fact that shouldn’t have made a difference yet changed everything. Despite the hospital gown and pale complexion, Declan was unquestionably an adult male, hint of reddish chest hair and all. Not a kid, not my patient, not a relative. A man. A dude whose company I was coming to enjoy far, far too much, so I tried to make my tone more academic, less personal. “Your strength will come back.”
“If I have to hear another variation of give it time, I’m gonna scream.” Declan glared at me before softening his expression. “Sorry. I’m being whiney again.”
“And I keep telling you, it’s okay. Whine away. I don’t mind listening.” That was an understatement, but I needed to keep more distance between us.
“I’d rather listen to more of our book than complain.” And then he said our, and all my noble intentions went poof.
“Oh? It’s our book now?” I scooted my chair closer as I dug out my phone. Keeping him at arm’s length had lasted a whole twenty seconds. “You know, if you want, I could come visit when you’re at rehab? No obligation if you’d rather I didn’t, but I could bring a book.”
It was a reckless offer, one I’d undoubtedly regret, but when Declan grinned, none of that mattered. His smile was wide and free, as happy as I’d seen him, and it transformed him from a generically handsome injured guy to the most attractive man I’d seen in a long, long time.
“I like that idea.” He continued to beam, and my stomach gave a little quiver.