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"You weren't an asshole at all," I replied. "You were a polite drunk, apologizing profusely for puking and otherwise ruining my date night."
"I'm sorry, Kate. I hate having to say sorry about something like that. Asinine."
Drake told me about his young patient, a boy with a rare brain tumor that pressed on motor nerves and gave him seizures and tremors. The tumor was inoperable, but they used chemo to shrink the size of the lesion and Drake performed deep brain stimulation to offset the tremor so the boy could at least eat and speak.
He was in for another round of deep brain stimulation when he died of a rare side effect, leaving Drake to console the parents. It brought up everything with Liam and so Drake had felt particularly helpless and even hopeless about prospects for him having a child of his own.
"After Liam, I'd hate to have another child with cancer," he said to me, taking my hand. We lay on two recliners in the shade of a tree by the pool, the warmth of the day starting to build.
"Is it likely that another child of yours would have the same cancer?"
Drake shrugged. "Probably not, but stranger things have happened. I've seen so many rare and unexpected things in my career, I've learned not to count out any possibility, however remote."
I squeezed his hand. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it."
He sighed and turned back to the view, rubbing his thumb over my knuckles.
I left Drake by the pool and went inside to work on the painting of him sitting in the bathtub. I had become completely immersed in it when I noticed him standing in the doorway watching me.
"Can I come in?"
I smiled and turned to face him, my brush in hand. "Of course. I'm used to having other students around when I work so no worries. But no peeking."
"Aww, that's no fair. Let me see it!"
"You know the rules."
I stood and stopped him from coming around to see my canvas, my fingers threading through his.
"When you're on the safari, will you be standing around painting live tigers and lions?"
I laughed and kissed him, one hand on his shoulder because he was still trying to glance over and see my painting.
"From what I've read, we'll be painting from a safe position and won't be in any real danger."
"Good." He nodded, trying to dodge around me.
"Stop. You can't see it until it's finished. That's the rule…"
"No fair," he said and pretended to fight with me, but he didn't really try very hard. "The three stooges got to see your work in Chelsea. Why not me?"
"Because," I said and stood in between him and my canvas. "You're the subject matter. You can wait until I'm finished."
"Oh, all right," he said and I felt his muscles slacken. "If you insist."
"I insist.”
It was then I realized that I hadn't told him about Sefton going on the art safari. Ugh. I hated the thought that he would be with us on the safari, but there was nothing to do about it except cancel and I really didn't want to do that either. I frowned, wondering how to phrase it.
"What's that look for, Ms. Bennet? Something bothering you?"
I sighed and put my hands on his shoulders, looking in his eyes.
"Drake, I have something to tell you…"
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
At the sound of my voice, Drake frowned, his eyes narrowing.
