Page 49 of Wanting You
No. Not really.
But I nod.
The cold towel presses against my forehead, and I flinch.The sweat. The shaking. The way my skin feels stretched too tight over bones that won’t stop aching.
Sebastian sits beside me. “You’re okay,” he says, like he’s trying to convince himself. “Just overheated.”
But I know better.
I’m not okay. Not even close.
“Where’s Jake?” I manage to whisper.
No one answers.
Alex walks toward the window and peers through the blinds like he’s expecting something—or someone.
Darby studies me a beat longer and then packs up her stethoscope. “Let’s get her upstairs to her room.”
“That’s two flights,” Sebastian says.
“She needs to rest and to keep hydrating. She’ll be more comfortable in her own room, and we’ll have privacy so I can examine her more thoroughly.”
“Yeah, okay.” Sebastian gestures to Alex. “Come on.”
They help me off the couch.
Breathing is a little easier now.
But who am I kidding?
I didn’t lose my breath because I ran too hard on the beach. I’m a master of breath control.
This is something else.
A few minutes later—after I get evil eyes from both Sienna and Emily as we pass them—I’m back in my own suite.
Alex and Sebastian help me to my bed, and Darby follows.
“If you’ll excuse us, gentlemen,” she says.
“Yeah, sure,” Sebastian says.
He and Alex leave my bedroom, closing the door behind them.
Darby sets her bag down at the edge of the bed. She’s speaking—asking me something about my fluid intake, my blood pressure—but her voice feels far away. Like I’m underwater. Like my body is here, but my mind…
Back to the moment I saw him.
Jake.
Alive.
Darby takes my pulse. She gently presses the back of her hand to my clammy forehead, tucks a thermometer under my tongue. She’s thorough, calm, competent. But none of it touches what’s wrong.
Because it’s not my body that’s broken.
It’s my mind.
