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The loss of his hands on me made a shiver of unease move through me. I hadn’t even noticed he was touching me.
What the shit? Was I still out of it?
He undid his watch and pulled it off. “Give me your good arm.”
“Why?”
“Because.”
I held out my arm and let him put the watch on my wrist.
“This has an EKG monitor. It’s not as accurate as using a six or twelve lead, but it’ll tell us if you’re in AFIB or not.” He tapped on the screen, then navigated to an icon. “Put your fingers on the edges of the screen, on the metal part. Don’t squeeze, just rest them there. Watch the countdown. Try not to move.”
My wrist twinged as I used the fingers on my hurt hand but managed to do as he said. “Where are you going?” I asked when he stood.
“Getting my bag to check your blood pressure.”
“I’m fine.”
“Maybe, but maybe not.”
“This isn’t a big deal.”
“Don’t care. With the trauma you’ve experienced, plus the meds and lack of sleep, I need to make sure it’s not something more.”
His concern made my chest ache in a completely different way. I knew it was professional concern and not personal, but it still hit that he cared.
He came back at the same time the countdown on the watch stopped.
“Sinus rhythm,” he noted. He fit the earpieces of his stethoscope into his ears. “Good. Now to check your BP.”
I sat quietly as he did.
“It’s high, but not in the danger zone. What’s your normal resting heart rate?”
“Fifty-three.”
“And your BP?”
“One-twenty over eighty.”
“Do you have a smartwatch? Or a fitness one?”
“Yeah. I left both in my Lambo next to my suitcase of hundred-dollar bills.”
He ignored my comment. “Keep my watch on for the next few days. We can track how long it takes for you to get back to your baseline and monitor for anything concerning.”
“I’m fine.”
“Which one of us is the nurse?”
“You?”
“Exactly. Now stop being a stubborn ass and let me do my job.”
“Your job isn’t to take care of me.”
“It kinda is. Now stop arguing with me. Can you eat or do you need to rest?”
