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My constant semis and commentary on her nipples should be a pretty solid indicator that I’m not feeling all that platonic toward her, but I can see how stepping up my game would be a good idea. Maybe she thinks the almost-make-out-session was a fluke. Maybe she thinks I’ve lost interest, or maybe she’s lost interest. I hope not. If she wanted to just be friends, I could deal, but I definitely want more.
I’m way past wanting to claim the pussy. I want to claim the whole woman.CHAPTER 21
STAND UP
Stevie
I’m in the middle of making myself a buffalo-chicken wrap when a knock startles me. Bishop isn’t scheduled to be home for two more days, so I check the peephole before I open the door. On the other side is a very pale, very clammy Nolan gripping the jambs.
“Hey, Nolan, everything okay?”
“Uh, really sorry to bother you, but, uh . . . I think I might need to go to urgent care,” he mumbles.
I take him by the elbow and guide him to the couch. “Did you misplace your insulin?”
“I checked all of Shippy’s usual hiding spots, but he must’ve put it somewhere different, and I can’t get ahold of him to find out where.” He runs his shaky hands over his thighs. “I’ve been looking for over an hour. You have keys to his car, right? If you can drop me off at urgent care, I’ll get home on my own.”
“I’m not dropping you off and leaving you there on your own.” I squeeze his shoulder. “Besides, Bishop left me with a couple of insulin doses for you just in case.”
“He did?”
“Yup, just take some deep breaths. I’ll be right back.” I leave him in the living room and rush to the kitchen, where I open the drawer with Nolan’s emergency doses. Bishop left them here weeks ago, right after Nolan interrupted the almost-kiss.
I prepare the needle, having done it for my dad plenty of times, and offer to administer it for him since his hands are so shaky. It takes about fifteen minutes before his color starts to come back and for Nolan’s shakes to stop. While we’re waiting, I assemble a sandwich, the kind I used to make for my dad when he’d get busy and forget to take his shot.
“Thanks, Stevie, I really appreciate this,” Nolan says before he takes a giant bite of his sandwich.
“I know you do. How are you feeling now?”
“Much better,” he says through a mouthful of ham, swiss, and bread.
“I’m still going to take you to urgent care after you finish eating,” I tell him.
“You don’t need to do that. I’m fine.” He wipes away some mustard with a napkin.
“Fine or not, we’re going to urgent care to make sure. And we’re going to find your insulin case before we go and replace the dose we used so I have them on hand.” I arch a brow—an invitation to challenge me.
He blows out a breath. “I’ll find it eventually.”
It’s my turn to sigh. “Look, Nolan, I know living with this isn’t easy, but it’s not going to go away, and brushing this off like it’s nothing isn’t helpful either. Bishop worries about you a lot, and when you don’t take your own health seriously, it stresses him out.”
His expression shifts to annoyance. “It’s not his problem; it’s mine.”
“It might be yours to live with, but it affects him too. You’re his best friend. Do you know how hard it is for him when he’s away and he doesn’t know if you’re taking your medication, or if you’re out until whatever time in the morning? What you’re doing and how you treat your body is shortening the time you have here.”
“You’re making a big deal out of nothing. I’m fine.”
“Only because I was here and Bishop left me with doses. What if you couldn’t find the dose and you didn’t make it to urgent care tonight? What if you’d gone into shock, and that’s how he found you when he came home tomorrow night? Your lack of regard for your own health is actually really selfish. Bishop would be absolutely devastated if something happened to you while he was away.”
He drops his head, looking ashamed of himself. “I just want to be normal.”
“I get it, I really do, but you’re a diabetic, and that means you have to treat your body better, and it means that you can’t abuse it. My dad took such good care of himself, and we still lost him when he was in his fifties. It sucks that I don’t have a dad anymore. Don’t leave Bishop without a best friend or a brother because you’re reckless with your life.” I push up off the couch, worried I’m about to get emotional. “Once you’re finished eating, we’re going to check your apartment for your insulin, and then we’re going to urgent care. No arguments.”
