“See, it’s all here in her notes because she told him to ask for a second opinion. When the other doctor on duty came in and agreed with him, she told us to”—he squinted down at the notes—“‘ask that asshole with the truck to get a cast with sticker-straps on it.’ We pointed out those didn’t exist, but she was adamant we do it.”
Gently, I stroked the top of Sasha’s head, only just realizing that she’d shifted positions, so it was over my heart now.
“Is that your heart or my head thumping? I can’t feel my butt, so I don’t know which is which.”
I couldn’t help it, I barked out a laugh at the same time that the doctor and nurse grinned at what she’d just said. Unfortunately, I’d forgotten her head had to be hurting, and the noise and bounce made it worse.
“Ow!”
“Sorry, baby.”
I absentmindedly kissed her on the area I’d just been stroking. It hurt my neck and back because I had to contort my body to reach it, but it was the best I could do.
It wasn’t until I saw the expression on the nurse’s face soften that I realized how it’d looked, but then I remembered we were meant to be engaged.
Shit.
“I don’t want a fuzzy leg and smelly foot,” she mumbled, then something else occurred to her. “My leg’s gonna look like Iron Man’s, too.”
“You’ll have physical therapy, Sasha,” the nurse soothed. “It’ll take some time to get it all back to normal once the casts come off, but it’ll happen.”
Then, deciding to leave me with the sad woman, the nurse and doctor moved toward the door.
“If Sasha has any more pain, just press the call button. We’ve only given her the minimum dose of the Oramorph because of her concussion, but if she’s in pain and needs more, we can do that,” the doctor said over his shoulder.
“Hey, Doc,” I called before the door could close behind him. “When can I take her home?”
“I think probably tomorrow. With Sasha’s pain levels and the medication we’ve had to give her, I’d like to monitor her and the concussion for another twenty-four hours.”
Smiling gratefully at him, I waited until the door shut and then focused back on Sasha. She was so still that I thought she was asleep, so when she finally spoke, I jumped slightly.
“S’not your fault.”
The first word made me cringe when I remembered her wiping her nose with the blanket, trying to figure out where that spot would be right now. Unfortunately, it seemed like I was lying on it. Gross!
“I should have been paying attention,” I argued gently. “When you’re driving a vehicle, it’s your responsibility to pay attention to the road and area around you.”
“I’m drooling,” she mumbled, then wiped her face on my chest. Christ, I was going to be walking out like a crime scene tech’s DNA fantasy. “I was in all black, Jack.”
When she didn’t say my full name, I almost corrected her, but then I remembered the drugs she was on. Apparently, the rhyming of the words was also amusing to her because she snorted.
“I should have looked for lights before I crossed. Hey,” she said loudly, lifting her head to look at me. “Did you know I saw the light to Kevin before you hit me? You saved my life.”
Did they provide translators for this?
“Light to Kevin?”
Nodding eagerly, she pointed at the ceiling. “Kevin. The light was right there.”
She held her hand up about a foot away from her face. Then again, with a cast on it from hand to mid-bicep, it’s not like she could hold it any closer.
“I don’t know what Kevin is, baby.” Then, not wanting to upset her, I added, “But I’ll bet the light was pretty.”
“You saved my life, man,” she mumbled, lowering her head back down. “I’ll buy you cake.”
And with that, she fell asleep, her gentle snores punctuating the last word. Unfortunately, it also reminded me that I hadn’t eaten since yesterday, and my stomach responded with a pissed off, hangry growl.
Did it wake her up? Did it shit.
Instead, she rubbed her face on it and whispered, “Milkshake brings all the growls to the yeeeard.”
What I didn’t know at that moment, but I’d later find out was, her saying weird shit in her sleep couldn’t be blamed on the painkillers.
Chapter Four
Sasha
When I woke up after my impromptu nap courtesy of the disgusting tasting painkillers they’d given me, I opened my eyes to see a t-shirt under my face, instead of the pillow with crisp linen on it that I’d been expecting.
It took a moment to get my brain to come back online, and when it did, I saw words that didn’t make much sense to me.
Sadly, it also alerted me to the fact that I’d drooled on the owner of the t-shirt’s chest.