“Vitamin B,” she answered. Pressing the stethoscope to my back, she ordered, “Take a deep breath.”
I complied, but only because she was at least six inches taller than my glorious five four. Listening intently, she moved the stethoscope a few times, demanding deep breaths.
“Anything wrong?” I asked as Sawyer walked in holding a steaming mug.
“No, thankfully. You had a faint crackling sound in your left lobe when I first came by. The beginnings of a lung irritation. Maybe bronchitis. Thankfully it cleared up after a few days of rest.” She gave me a look that was both shrewd and warm. “Your tour schedule is so rigorous I wonder who approved it.”
I laughed to myself, imaging how badly Paul would shit himself if he had to stand before her assessing gaze.
“He doesn’t work for me anymore.”
“Good.” She added a few notes to her iPad. “Well, whoever he was clearly did not have your best interests at heart. Honestly, with the state you’re in, I’m surprised you didn’t collapse sooner.”
“I guess I’m just stubborn,” I said, shrugging. “When do you think I’ll be able to get back on the road?”
Sawyer made a rude noise. “Not any time soon.”
Dr. Ahmed chuckled. “I have to agree with Mr. Finch’s assessment. You need time to recover, both physically and mentally.”
Sawyer looked a little too smug as he held up the tea. “He’s good to drink this, right? It’s chamomile.”
“Anything you can get in him that isn’t alcohol or uppers would be great.”
“So, no coke or caffeine. Got it,” he joked.
I’d discovered early on in my career that cocaine and I didn’t mix, so avoiding that would be dead easy. But if they thought they were going to get between me and my morning caffeine, they had another thing coming.
“On that note, do I have to have this damned feeding tube?” I asked. “It’s annoying as fuck.”
“I would much rather you ingest food the usual way, but you have to promise to actually eat,” she said, eyeballing me as though she were trying to peer into my skull. “And I’m serious about you staying off the road.”
“Oh, he’ll eat,” Sawyer said, putting his hand on his hip like some kind of disappointed parent. “And he’s not going anywhere anytime soon.”
“You do know that holding me here without my permission is a crime,” I noted.
“So is the way you’ve treated your body,” he shot back. “Call it even.”
Dr. Ahmed looked between us, amusement playing at her lips. “Your boyfriend cares very deeply for you, Mr. Cavanaugh. You’re a lucky man.”
I laughed into my tea. “Boyfriend? Absolutely not. Can you imagine it, Sawyer?”
Sawyer looked away as Dr. Ahmed cleared her throat. “I apologize for the assumption. Allow me to correct myself—you’re very lucky to have such good friends, Mr. Cavanaugh.”
“That I am, Dr. Ahmed. Even if they do tend to overreact.”
With an amused press of her lips, Dr. Ahmed faced Sawyer. “We chatted before about moving him, and I’m fine with that as long as you’re not going too far.”
“The rental is less than fifteen minutes away.” Turning to me, he explained, “Ren has the cabin all set up. If you’d rather stay here for a few more days, though…”
I’d already been enough of a burden to Ozzie, and I didn’t relish the thought of having to witness him and Walker getting all hot and heavy with one another. “No, I’d rather get settled in.”
Sawyer checked his phone while Dr. Ahmed removed my IV and feeding tube. “These go back in if we can’t keep your levels up,” she warned.
I saluted her, glad to be able to move freely. “Yes, ma’am.”
After she left, I turned to Sawyer. “So. This must be your every fantasy coming true.”
His eyes widened. “What?”
