“No arguments, West,” Drew cut me off, his voice softening as he added, “Please. I need to know you’re okay.”
“Your friend is right, West,” the paramedic said. “I don’t think anything is broken, and I could bandage your cuts, but you inhaled a lot of smoke. You don’t need me to remind you of the drill, do you?”
Looking into Drew’s pleading eyes, I felt my resolve crumble. I just wanted to go home, but how could I say no to him? “All right,” I conceded. “But only if you promise to sneak me in some decent food. Hospital grub is the worst.”
Drew’s laugh was shaky but genuine. “Deal,” he said, squeezing my hand.
As I was loaded into the ambulance, I wondered if it was just the adrenaline or if there was something more behind Drew’s intense reaction? And more importantly, now that I had the opportunity to tell Drew about my feelings, would I?
The fluorescent lights of Cliffborough General Hospital’s emergency room buzzed overhead, their harsh glow making everything look washed out and surreal. I blinked, trying to focus on the doctor’s face as she examined my leg.
“Well, West, you’re quite lucky,” she said, her voice crisp and professional. “The injury to your leg isn’t severe. However, the smoke inhalation is our primary concern right now.”
I nodded, suppressing a cough. “Makes sense,” I rasped. “Feels like I swallowed a campfire.”
From his position beside my bed, Drew crossed and uncrossed his arms.
I turned to look at him, struck by the worry lines around his eyes. Even disheveled and exhausted, he was still unfairly handsome. “I’m okay, Drew.”
As the medical team bustled around me, hooking up IVs, adjusting my oxygen, and running tests, Drew remained a constant presence. He fielded questions I was too tired to answer, his hand never straying far from mine. It was comforting but also confusing as hell. We’d always been close, but this felt…different.
“You don’t have to stay, you know,” I said softly once we were alone again. “I’m sure you’ve got better things to do than babysit me all night.”
Drew’s blue eyes flashed with something I couldn’t quite decipher. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be,” he said firmly, his fingers intertwining with mine. “You scared the shit out of me today, West. I’m not going anywhere.”
I swallowed hard, overwhelmed by the intensity of his gaze. “Drew, I?—”
“Get some rest,” he interrupted gently, giving my hand a squeeze. “I’ll be right here when you wake up.”
I drifted off, lulled by the steady beep of monitors and the warmth of Drew’s hand in mine. It felt unreal, so I held on to it as darkness took me.
The first thing I noticed as I blinked awake was the soft, golden light of dawn filtering through the hospital blinds. The second was the warm weight of Drew’s hand still firmly clasped in mine. I turned my head, wincing slightly at the stiffness in my neck, my breath catching in my throat.
Drew was slumped in the chair beside my bed, his usually perfectly styled hair a mess and his clothes rumpled. But it was the peaceful expression on his face that made my heart do a weird flip-flop in my chest. I’d never seen him look so…vulnerable.
“You’re staring,” Drew mumbled, his eyes still closed.
I let out a startled laugh. “I thought you were asleep.”
“I was,” he said, cracking one eye open and flashing a sleepy grin. “But I have a sixth sense for when people are checking me out.”
“I wasn’t—” I started to protest, but the words died in my throat as Drew’s thumb began tracing gentle circles on the back of my hand. The simple touch sent shivers down my spine, and I found myself wondering when exactly my best friend’s casual affection had started to feel so…electric.
“How are you feeling?” Drew asked, his voice still husky with sleep.
I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could, the door swung open and a tall, dark-haired man in a white coat strode in. It took me a moment to recognize him, but Drew stood up straight away.
“Patrick!” he said, going around the bed and hugging Patrick. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m doing my residency here. Started this week.” He looked at the chart in his hand and turned to me. “Nice to finally meet you, West. How are you feeling this morning?”
“Fine,” I said automatically, though my eyes were locked on Drew, who was smiling warmly at Patrick. I purposefully hadn’t asked about the cocktail class, but I didn’t need to ask now to know it had gone well.
“Glad to hear it,” Patrick said, moving to check my vitals.
“Have you made any cocktails since our class?” Drew asked.
“Just for my parents. I haven’t had the guts to?—”
