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SADIE
“Really, it’s fine. I’m a seasoned camper. I’ll just go to a nearby park.”
We’d been going round and round for fifteen minutes before the doctor came back to check on me and discuss my possible discharge.
“You sure she doesn’t have a concussion?” Paul asked Dr. Ashwood. “Because I heard you set up camp in an ice fishing tent in Drew Evans’s muddy backyard. Doesn’t exactly strike me as a seasoned camper move. You sure you’re not having delusions?” He grinned.
Jessica had found me unconscious on the floor when she came to drop off my gift bag. She’d taken it upon herself to stick by my side until I had a new place to stay for the night. She’d mass texted everyone she deemed worthy in her phone to find me a bed.
Paul Harris answered the Bat-Signal. And even though he was a dead doppelgänger for Charles Michael Davis, I wasn’t keen on spending the night feeling awkward in another stranger’s house who hadn’t been expecting me. This was becoming a ridiculous trend.
“Her scans came back clear, but I’m not comfortable with her staying overnight outdoors in weather like this after that episode.”
“She can speak for herself, thank you very much. And I’m fine,” I told Dr. Ashwood for the millionth time. He was looking out for my best interests, but there was no way in hell I was paying the deductible on an overnight stay in an out-of-network hospital. I turned back to Paul. “How did you hear it was an ice fishing tent?”
When I mentioned setting up camp in his backyard to Val, I’d left that embarrassing detail out. Were Paul and Drew friends? Did Drew call all his buddies after I left and tell them about the hapless woman who invaded his privacy? Did they all have a good laugh about it?
A hot ball of anger and embarrassment brewed in my gut.
When Jessica first started listing off people she planned to call to find me a bed—or couch—for the night, I’d ignored the mild pang of disappointment that she didn’t mention Drew. Now I was grateful he hadn’t made the cut.
“You two woke up Drew’s neighbor arguing in the middle of the night about it,” Paul said. “Once word got out someone besides Drew stepped foot inside his house, that little tidbit became hot fodder for the gossip cannon.”
“You grimaced when I flipped the overhead light on when I came in.” The good Dr. Ashwood addressed his tablet and not me, ignoring the conversation Paul and I were having. “I suspect you’re still having some residual aura symptoms you’re not telling me about because you want to leave.”
“Nope. Everything is peachy. No more symptoms now that I’m away from those pesticide fumes,” I lied through my teeth. My head still pounded, and the occasional white orb floated in and out of my peripheral vision, but it would clear up. I’d only ever had three migraines in my entire life and thankfully I didn’t need to be on any routine medications. But man alive, the three times they did happen, they were doozies.
Offering only a noncommittal hum, Dr. Ashwood shined a light into my left eye that could be used to break even the toughest spy into giving up state secrets. “Your pupils are still overreacting to light stimulus.” He rolled his stool away from me and went back to his tablet. “Also, you just swore at me.”
“That wasn’t under my breath?”
He raised an eyebrow but kept tapping away silently while Jessica glared at him from the corner.
The door flew open, pulling away everyone’s attention. Except Dr. Ashwood’s.
Drew charged into the room then stopped short, looking at Paul, Jessica and Dr. Ashwood. Last night he might have seemed aloof, but right now he looked straight up panicked. He was breathing heavy, like he’d run from the parking lot, and it made my mind wander to other activities that might make him breathless.
His eyes narrowed when they hit Paul and he put his hands on his hips. “She can stay with me.”
“Are you telling him or me?” I was tired of the men in this room talking about me like I wasn’t here.
Dr. Ashwood shot up. “I’ll be back in ten minutes.” He pinned me with a look. “Figure out a place to stay that isn’t outdoors by then or else I’m signing you over to Dr. Eliot on the night shift. He’ll be even less inclined to let you leave without twenty-four hours of observation.” The door clicked shut behind him.
Awkward silence fell over the room for a few beats. Drew looked everywhere but at me.
Jessica crossed her arms and addressed him. “I told you we had it under control.”
So she did contact him.
He finally turned to me, jaw tense, his glacial blue eyes piercing me. “I owe you a bed.”
My lady bits loved this idea. But despite the remnants of insecticide still floating around in my brain, it had the wherewithal to object. “You didn’t place the ad.”
He sucked in a breath. Like it pained him to be discussing the topic. “No. But I know who did and I doubt he’s going to be able to pay your company back.”
“Friend of yours?”
“Something like that.”
