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I had no idea what to make of that information, so I just nodded. “Okay. Thank you again.”
Once I was alone, I checked out what was underneath the covered platter—eggs benedict and fresh fruit. I salivated. Then I got a whiff of the flowers and leaned down to get the full effect, still amazed at the trouble Beck had gone to. I heard talking next door, so it sounded like he was still on his call, but I figured the least I could do to show my appreciation was bring him some caffeine. I made two mugs, sipped one, and headed next door with his in hand.
Beck sat at the desk, his laptop open and voices chatting away, but his eyes raked down my body as I stepped inside. They took their time making their way back up, and I silently reprimanded myself for not looking in the mirror before I’d come in.
Even the way he watched me deliver his coffee gave off a dominant vibe, the same way he’d been in bed. His eyes followed my every step, yet his head never moved. It made goosebumps break out on my arms.
I set the coffee to the side of his laptop, careful to keep out of the camera’s view. The entire time, Beck remained cool and restrained—eyes following me, yet never displaying any expression on camera. So I couldn’t help myself. It seemed like a silent challenge.
When I got back to the doorway, I untied the belt to my robe and turned back, opening it wide to flash my birthday suit underneath.
That did it.
Beck’s control snapped. His eyes went wide, and a giant smile broke out on his face as he shook his head.
Satisfied that he wasn’t always the one in control, I walked back to my room with a bit more swagger in my step.
***
“Oh my God. You’re awake…”
Louise surprised us both when we walked into the ICU ward an hour later. She looked a thousand times better than when we’d left a few hours ago. Relief made me choked up, and I went to her bedside and hugged her. Beck did the same.
“Did you think I was going to miss Harry?”
Beck looked to me.
“We got Harry Styles tickets for next Friday night. Third row floor seats. He’s playing in New York. We’re going to fly home to see it.”
“Harry Styles? Seriously? Isn’t he for teenagers?”
I narrowed my eyes. “Harry Styles is foreveryone.”
Beck shrugged and looked at Louise. “How do you feel?”
“I feel like getting out of here, that’s how I feel.”
He glanced back to me. “Yep. She’s feeling better.”
A few minutes later, a group of doctors came in. One of them was the neurologist from yesterday, Dr. Cornelius.
“Good morning,” he said.
“Morning.”
He typed something into his iPad, smiled, and motioned to Louise. “How are you feeling, Ms. Aster?”
“Great. I’m ready to check out.”
Dr. Cornelius turned to us. “Normally I like to ask the family if the patient seems like themself. It’s actually an important part of my neurological exam. But something tells me the answer to that is yes.”
Beck smirked. “Most definitely.”
“That’s a good sign. I came in to check on Ms. Aster about an hour ago when the nurses told me she was awake. We discussed what had transpired and spoke a little about her condition. But I’m not an oncologist, so I wanted to speak to her doctors in New York and consult with my colleagues here before we discussed a treatment plan.”
Beck nodded. “Okay…”
“Ms. Aster has expressed that she’s made the decision to enjoy the final phase of her life, rather than spend it getting chemo and radiation that will only extend her life so long, and at a cost of the quality of her days.”
