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Still, she was lying there telling him to leave, and all he wanted was to get back in bed and hold her.
“Drew.”
“All right.” He rubbed her shoulder. “I’ll be out most of the day, but I’m calling to check on you.”
“That’s fine.”
“And if you need something, you tell me.”
“I will.”
He took the cordless off the nightstand and laid it on the bed beside her, close enough that she wouldn’t have to sit up to reach it. Nicole sank lower and pulled the covers back around herself.
At the bedroom door, he looked back. Her eyes were already closed, one hand tucked under her cheek.
He made himself leave.
Chapter Forty-One
Nicole made it through a shower and into her robe. The couch was as far as she got, and she decided that counted as a full day’s work.
Bed could wait. She’d spent all morning staring at the same four walls, and out here she could at least feel like shit in front of General Hospital. The fever was down, thanks to the medicine Drew had found at that all-night drugstore, but everything still ached. Her cramps kept checking in like they were afraid she’d forget about them. And the cough had a real talent for showing up right when she was about to doze off.
She tucked her feet under the throw, sank her cheek into one of the coral pillows her mother had picked out, and let Sonny brood at somebody on the TV. Then a key turned in the front door. Nicole lifted her head. Drew didn’t have a key.
The lock clicked, and she pushed up on one elbow and fought to get her feet out from under the blanket. She had no idea what she planned to do once she managed it. Swing a throw pillow at whoever it was, probably.
“It’s me.”
Bailey came in hugging a big covered pot against her stomach, bumped the door shut with her hip, and locked it behind her.
For a second, Nicole just looked at her. No calls back, no messages, not even a “sorry I missed your party,” and now here she was, letting herself in like it was any other Tuesday.
“Ryan told me you were sick,” Bailey said, setting the pot on the stove and dropping her purse on the kitchen table. “Drew called him this morning. He sounded really worried about you, so I made you some soup.”
Nicole pulled her robe tighter as Bailey crossed the living room. She had questions, a whole list of them, and some came with attitude. But she was too tired to start in on any of it, and the honest truth was that she was just so glad to see her.
“I’m probably contagious,” she said. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“And leave you by yourself like this? Girl, please.”
“I’m fine.” The last word broke into a cough, and Nicole turned her face into her sleeve until it let her go. By the time it did, her eyes were watering.
“Uh-huh. You sound fine.”
Bailey sat on the edge of the couch and laid the back of her hand against Nicole’s forehead, then her cheek. She probably did that twenty times a night on her shifts at the hospital. “You’re not hot. When’s the last time you took your temperature?”
“A little while ago. It’s down.”
“Good. You still sound like shit.”
“Thank you, nurse. I feel like shit too.”
That got a small smile out of her. Then Bailey glanced toward the kitchen. “When’s the last time you ate?”
Nicole actually had to think about it. “Drew heated up some soup for me before he left this morning.” She’d managed about four spoonfuls before it went cold. Bailey didn’t need to know that.
“Nikki, it’s almost three.”
