“Want a backrub?” I asked, laying my phone on the bed and kicking off my shoes.
He looked up at me with stormy eyes. “That’s not even a question. I’ll never deny a backrub from you.”
Laughter bubbled out of me as I grabbed the lotion bottle. I was pretty damn good at backrubs.
He grabbed his water bottle and chugged. “I have a headache. Long drive.”
After peeling off his shirt, he lay face forward on the bed.
Headache? Was that code for he didn’t want to have sex tonight as promised? Or did he really have a headache?
I shrugged it off and started to massage him, straddling his back. When he moaned, every arousal point in my body lit up.
“Damn, woman,” he growled as I dug in deep near his shoulder, “you’re so good at this.”
That caused a smile to pull at my lips. I was straddling his back, and as I leaned forward to kiss his neck my phone buzzed. Not a normal buzz, this was a continuous rhythm, the alert buzz from his glucose device I’d paired with my phone.
I launched off of him like my ass was on fire and fumbled for my phone. “How are you feeling?” I asked nervously, ready to call 911. His phone was going off too.
He sat up and sighed as we both looked at my screen.
310.
WAY too fucking high.
“Fuck. I’ll bet that fast food place didn’t give me diet soda like I asked for. It tasted too sweet, but I ignored it.”
Those motherfuckers!I was going to call and rip them a new asshole tomorrow. How dare they screw up his order and nearly kill him.
“Ethan! What do we do?” My heart was jackknifing in my chest and my fingers were ready to speed-dial 911. Some nurse I was going to be. All my hair would fall out by my second patient.
Leaning forward, he placed a kiss on my nose. “I’m going to take my fast acting insulin and in thirty minutes I’ll be fine. Don’t worry so much.” Then he stood and moved across the room to head for the kitchen like it was no big deal. Like a blood sugar of 310 was no fucking big deal.
The second he left the room, my fingers went tapping on Google.310 blood sugar. Dangers of high blood sugar. How long does it take for short acting insulin to work? When to go to the hospital for high blood sugar.
By the time he got back to the room, I’d totally freaked myself out.
“Maybe we should go to the hospital to be safe.”
He chuckled. “Hailey, if I went to the hospital every time I had high blood sugar, I would live there. Check it now. I’ll bet it’s already going down.”
I glanced at the app.270.
Relief exploded in my chest. Okay, no worries. He was going to be fine.
He sat down next to me and slung an arm around my shoulder. “Did you Google while I was gone?”
I gave him a guilty look and he just laughed. “Don’t they teach you about Dr. Google in nursing school?”
Yeah, they actually did. “It’s different when it’s someone you care about.”
His face softened. Reaching out, he tucked a stray chunk of hair behind my ear. “I care about you too. That’s why I don’t want you worrying about me.”
Easier said than done. He looked so tired. Tonight wasn’t the best night for our first time. “Wanna go to bed?”
He sighed, rubbing his eyes. “I’m beat.”
“You get some sleep.” I ran my fingers through his dark hair. “I’m just going to stay up a bit longer.” And watch these numbers like a hawk until they were under two hundred.
