Page 22 of Not Like Christmas At All
“That’s to be anticipated.” Walking over to the machines, she jots down my vitals in my patient file on her tablet. “Can I get you anything?”
“Details,” I croak, then curl my lips around the straw again. There’s a strong possibility I might drink this entire cup.
“Your doctor?—”
“No. You.”
Nurse Edwin sighs, then glances at Lincoln.
“He’s out,” I assure her. “Please.”
“You fell, dear. Hit your head pretty hard and initially were out for almost thirty minutes, which is worrisome, but aside from a concussion, your tests are all coming back normal. We’ve let you sleep the rest of the day to promote your healing. ”
Concussion—I figured, but that explains the headache.
What it doesn’t explain is why Mister Grinchy is asleep in the hideous, horribly uncomfortable armchair next to me.
I jut my thumb in his direction. “Why’s he here?”
Nurse Edwin’s lips purse with a hint of a smile. “He’s been here the entire day. Refused to leave your side.”
Refused to leave my?—
“What?”
The look of confusion must have been evident on my face because Nurse Edwin laughs. “You heard me. Seems like Doctor Stokes is a little smitten with you, Genesis.”
A chortle flies from my throat, which actually really hurts. Wincing, I shake my head. “More like hates me. He’s probably here to be the first to know if I keeled over.”
“It’s a thin line between love and hate.”
“Not that thin.” To distract myself from the craziness of this conversation, I take another drink of my water.
“I’ll let the doctor know you’re awake, Genesis. She should be in shortly.”
Nurse Edwin is halfway through the door when I ask, “Who’s my doctor?”
“Doctor Kelley.”
Oh, good. I love Doctor Kelley. I’ve only gotten to work with her once, but she was lovely and very thorough.
Leather squeaks beside me and my attention shifts back to Lincoln. It appears he’s only moved in his sleep, but something tells me he’s coherent enough to hear me.
“What’s the actual reason you’re here, Lincoln? Did Zee tell you to watch over me?”
The room stays silent with the exception of the machines I’m hooked up to. Studying his face, I see the slight twitch of his eyes as they work to stay shuttered.
“C’mon, now. We both know you’re awake. Answer my question.”
Finally, the light blue shade of his irises connects with mine like magnets, and my heart bottoms out.
“How are you feeling, Gen?” he asks, voice thick with sleep.
“Woozy, and like my head might explode. You?”
“Sassy as always. Glad you’re feeling better.” Shoving the thin hospital blanket off his torso, he stands, coming to my side.
I crane my neck, searching his eyes. “Why are you here?”
