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“Yes.”
“So I’ll sleep on that. I don’t need much.”
He didn’t look sure. In fact, annoyingly, he didn’t look happy about it at all. I knew he was a well-organised person and he probably didn’t relish the idea of a student coming into his personal space and messing it up.
“It’s either that or you have to stay here,” I reminded him.
He sighed. “Fine.”
I nearly did a happy jig. Waggoner looked away and mumbled a sullen, “Thank you,” and the doctor looked at me knowingly. She was definitely onto me. At least I must have been giving out Good Samaritan vibes rather than horny alpha vibes, because she didn’t look like the sort to let her patients leave unless she was satisfied that they were taken care of.
She pulled me aside while the nurse was fitting a removable brace to Waggoner’s wrist. It was a contraption of Velcro strapping, mostly to protect it from knocks and to stop him moving it while it healed. He’d sprained it when he’d hit the ground at a bad angle.
The doctor looked serious.
“Wake him every two hours to check his brain function. If he sounds confused or can’t remember basic things, bring him straight back here. Concussion is no joke.”
“Yeah, I know. Footballer,” I said, by way of explanation.
She nodded. Enough said.
“He’ll be a little unsettled for a few days. He’s been in shock and, when that wears off, it’ll hit him like a truck. He might get emotional.”
“So give him lots of support,” I said.
She raised her eyebrows at me again. She was an alpha woman just a little smaller than me, but she had such a stern, don’t-mess-with-me vibe that I felt like a child.
“What are you to him, exactly?”
“Uh,” I said. I’d coasted by so far with everyone just assuming I was his… boyfriend? Date? Nobody had asked.
“If I think he’s in danger—”
“He’s not! Not from me.” I realised I’d said that too loud and lowered my voice again. I didn’t want Waggoner hearing this. He might change his mind about letting me stay. And getting to take care of Waggoner in his own apartment sounded… alarmingly nice.
I carried on, trying to convince the doctor I wasn’t a creep.
“I’m his student. No, I’m not, it’s not like that. I want- never mind, I just want to take care of him. I’m not going to hurt him.”
She didn’t look convinced.
I tried again. “He agreed to it. And you said he didn’t have concussion, so he’s in his right mind. And, trust me, he’s very clever. He wouldn’t let me stay if he didn’t want me to.”
That seemed to sway her.
She levelled a stern look at me, though. “You know, he’s not in a physical or emotional state for any kind of sexual—”
“Whoa, hold on, it’s not like that! I don’t want to sleep with him. Ok,” I said, as I realised what a massive lie that was, “Idowant to sleep with him but that’s because he’s sexy. I haven’t jumped him yet and I have no interest in coercing him. That’s not going to work long-term and it’llruinour wedding.”
Wow, was it me or was I the one with concussion right now? There was no other explanation for why I’d been blurting my secret desires to this formidable doctor.
As if I needed to feel even more stupid, her lips pulled back in a little smile as she restrained a smirk.
Great.
I rolled my eyes. “Look, I know I have a big mouth and maybe we could not mention this to Waggoner just yet? Like, I need to get him to agree to a date before I propose, right?”
She studied me, her lips pursed. Finally, she said, “Very well. He knows what he’s doing. He’s going to need lots of rest and fluids. Healthy meals – no take-outs.”
