Max helped her sit up and dragged his pillow over to stack on hers. He rubbed her back as she struggled to stop hacking. “Let me get you some water. Maybe that will help.”
When he returned to her side, he handed her a small cup of water. Max steadied it as she lifted the container to her lips. “Sip slowly, baby girl.”
Swallowing the last drops, Saylor nodded to her daddy. “I’m okay now.”
“Let’s prop you up a bit on the pillows. Maybe that will help.”
Saylor settled back on the higher support and smiled. “Better, Daddy. You’re smart.” Hovering on the brink of sleep, she felt him tuck the covers around her and drape a dry towel over her damp hair. When he stopped moving around, Saylor could sense him nearby, hovering over her. Protected and warm, she closed her eyes and didn’t remember anything else.
* * *
“Daddy, I’m sleeping,” she protested, after peeking to see who was rubbing her arm. Her voice sounded rough and weak. Saylor wrapped her hand around her now incredibly sore throat. Those darn germs flying around her classroom today had landed in her throat and set up camp.
“I’m sorry to wake you up, baby. Zale is here to make sure you’re okay,” Max explained.
“Pippa’s daddy? Why isn’t he taking care of Pippa?” Saylor mumbled, peeking up at the two men.
“Hi, Saylor. You sound like the other Littles. How’s your throat?” Zale asked, looking at her with his eyebrows drawn together in concern.
“Bad,” she croaked.
“Has she gotten worse quickly?” Zale asked, looking at Max.
“Her voice was fine when she went down for a nap. She definitely didn’t say anything about a sore throat or have this raspy voice.”
“I’d say she has the same bug as the others do. That sleepover was a super-spreader event,” Zale said.
“I was fine until my class yesterday,” Saylor protested and immediately launched into a coughing fit that had her gasping for air. She crossed her fingers, hoping she hadn’t transported some ailment from campus to the other women.
“Here, baby. Drink some water.” Max held a tumbler of iced water and helped her sit up to drink a few sips.
The cool air in the room reminded her she wasn’t dressed in anything. She held the covers tight to her chest, allowing Max to place the glass at her mouth. The cold liquid felt so good as she swallowed. Saylor nodded her thanks, afraid if she talked again, she’d trigger more coughing.
“Zale is our medic, Saylor. He takes care of the team and our Littles,” Max said.
Saylor pantomimed taking some medicine. Maybe he could give her something to help her feel better.
“I won’t prescribe anything for you without examining you, Saylor. Do I have your permission to treat you?” Zale asked, setting his bag down on the bedspread.
As she thought about it, the tickle in Saylor’s throat threatened to make her cough again. She slapped a hand over her mouth as she struggled not to cough. Both men watched her with worried expressions.
“I’ll be right here with you, Saylor,” Max promised. “Let Zale see if he can help you.”
Slowly, Saylor nodded. Was it possible that she could feel worse with every minute that went by? This illness was awful.
“Good girl,” Max praised her as Zale opened his medical bag and pulled out his stethoscope. As he fit the earpieces into place, Zale held the metal part that went against her skin in his hand. “I’ll try to warm this up a bit, and I’ll apologize in advance when it feels like ice.”
When she nodded, he approached and stood by the bed. Starting with her exposed back, he pressed the bell to her skin, making her shiver. “Sorry, Saylor. I’ll be quick. Take some deep breaths for me.”
He listened to her for longer than she anticipated. Did he hear something bad? She felt so awful. “Am I okay?” she whispered and coughed.
“No talking, little girl,” Max told her and gave her another sip of water.
“Your lungs are crackling a bit deep inside. That concerns me. Let’s see what I hear on the front side.” Zale listened to a couple of places above the covers before tugging them away.
Saylor clung to the sheet and comforter, not wanting him to see her breasts. She shook her head.
“Little girl. Zale is here to check on you. He doesn’t give a rat’s ass if you don’t have a shirt on. Well, actually he does and would make you take it off,” Max told her firmly. “He’s not looking at you as a guy. He’s examining you as the nurse practitioner that he is. Think of him as a doctor.”
