Page 46 of Playing the Game
My face heats. “Sir?”
His eyes widen. “You like that?”
I shrug sheepishly. “I could get used to it.”
“You’re definitely my temptress.” He laughs, but it catches in his chest. “Fuck, that hurts.”
“Okay, no more sexy talk.”
He groans but takes the prompt. “This wound is cramping my style.”
“All in due time.”
“I guess babies for us will have to wait.” His blue eyes dance around my face.
My shoulders tense, and I quit breathing. He can’t be seriously thinking like that right now.
“Dori, relax. It’s the painkillers talking.” His eyelids tick down.
“Are you sure?”
His words come out slower and a little slurred. “Don’t worry about our kids just yet. I have to make it out alive after telling Aiden about us. Who knows? This gunshot wound might be less concerning.”
Oh, jeez, I haven’t even thought about telling Aiden about my feelings for Jami. I don’t know how I’m going to get through that.
I swerve away from the topic. “Let’s not think about anything until the doctor says you can go home.”
“Deal.” He blinks a few times as if he’s fighting to stay awake.
I lean over and kiss his forehead. “Go to sleep and let your body heal.”
He nods and falls into a slumber. As much as I enjoy talking with him, I feel better knowing he’s resting. It gives me hope he’ll make it out of here without any issues.
I settle in and wait for the nurse to return to her station outside his door. She comes into view through the window of his room, wearing purple scrubs with tiny flowers on them.
I get up and meet her. “Hi, I’m Dori. Jamison’s girlfriend. He’s a little out of it, so I was wondering if I could get an update on his condition.”
“Sure.” She sits on a rolling chair and pulls up to a counter where a computer is stationed between two rooms.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” She takes a moment to read his records. “We’re still trying to manage his pain. He’s got a slight fever today, so we’re watching him closely. But he’s doing well, considering the trauma he went through.”
I pull my eyebrows down. “Why does he have a fever?”
“Several things could cause it. That’s why we’re monitoring him closely.”
“Like what?”
“It’s hard to say. It’s possible he’s fighting an infection, or it could be his body fighting off the stress of his injuries.”
“Will he stay in the ICU?” I try to peek at her computer screen.
She blocks my view with her shoulders. “Yes, but he’s in good hands, so try not to worry.”
I fold my arms across my chest. “Is he going to be okay?”
“Time will tell us more, but he’s talking and breathing on his own. Those are good signs.” She sends me a kind smile. “He has a long road ahead of him.”
