Page 30 of The Stalker Snafu

I gave the shortest of nods and pulled my hands free from under my butt since they’d gone numb. “Can I have my coffee now, please?”

“Kincaid just went to make some.”

I sighed happily, leaning back on the pillows and shaking out my tingling fingers. Maybe I’d misinterpreted the phone call after all, because Julian was so nice taking care of me. Either that, or Noah’s friend was a really good actor. Had Noah talked to him about me eavesdropping? God, that’d be embarrassing. I chewed on my lip, wanting to avoid that confrontation at all costs.

Julian lifted his vet bag from the floor and settled it next to my leg. He rummaged through the biggest pocket before pulling something small out with a smile. “I wanted to give this to you yesterday for being such a good patient, but you were pretty out of it.”

He stuck whatever it was to my nose, and I went cross-eyed while tugging it off. It was a little square sticker. I studied the cute puppy beaming back at me with the words PAW-Riffic Patient right below him. My brows rose higher the longer I looked at it, and I sent Julian a questioning glance.

“Why is this puppy dressed like a fireman?” I asked slowly, convinced I was missing something.

“It’s PAW Patrol,” he said.

I blinked. “PAW Patrol?”

“Yeah, the show about rescue dogs. My patients are usually puppies, so it’s fitting, and their owners love the stickers.”

I chewed on the inside of my cheek, touched by how cute that sounded. He gave stickers to his furry patients. “Do you have any Hello Kitty ones?”

His expression turned flat, but his nostrils flared as if he were actually offended. “Beggars can’t be choosers. If you don’t want the sticker, I can take it back.”

“No, I want it!” I stuck it on my shirt before he could grab it.

The display appeased Julian, and a smile curved his lips as he packed up his supplies. “I have matching Band-Aids if you ever need them.”

That was… unexpected. “You use Band-Aids on animals?”

He refused to make eye contact as he latched the bag. “They’re for personal use.”

Of course they were.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I said, thinking of the Hello Kitty Band-Aids in my own first aid box. Quite a pair we made. “Thank you, Julian. I really appreciate you gluing my head back together, plus staying here last night to make sure I’m okay.”

He waved a hand. “It’s no problem for my friend’s girl. And Kincaid’s hospitality makes me feel right at home. In fact, I’ll go see how he’s managing with your coffee, then we’ll re-dress your bandage. You keep resting, okay?”

I nodded, feeling agreeable. Not much else I could do. “Any chance Noah is bringing the whole pot of coffee with him?”

Julian breathed out a laugh as he inched toward the doorway—was he that eager to get away from me? “Sorry, but just a small cup for now. I don’t want to risk liver damage.”

I scrunched my nose as he left, trying to convince myself a small coffee was better than no coffee at all.

Another part of me wondered if Scott offered delivery.

Noah came back with a steaming mug of glorious coffee that awakened a dormant part of my soul that’d been in stasis since yesterday afternoon, and I perked up.

“Julian said it’s safe for you to take a different pain med now for the headache.” Noah set the mug out of my reach on the nightstand and traded it for the glass of water. He handed me two pills. “He gave specific instructions to not drink more than this much coffee for today, though.”

“Thank you.” I beamed, accepting the water as well before focusing both pills down. The sooner this was over, the sooner I could enjoy the coffee.

Noah slid back into bed beside me, trading me the glorious mug of coffee for my water glass after I took a few gulps. I inhaled a deep breath, soaking in the rich aroma before taking the teensiest sip of scalding liquid.

Slightly bitter. Smacking my lips, I tried not to make a face as I lowered the mug and looked around the room.

“Not enough sugar?” Noah asked, observant as always.

“It just needs a little more,” I hedged, spotting my backpack slumped next to the closet. I scooted toward the edge of the bed, but Noah wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me back to the middle.

“Don’t move.” He squeezed my hip before slinging his messenger bag onto the bed. A few fancy manila folders slid out of the main compartment, but he stuck his hand into the front pocket and pulled out a handful of sugar packets.