“I’ll go get your bandage ready so we can redress it, then we’ll work on a few meals that will be easy to make or eat one handed,” I tell Drake before I dart out of his master bedroom.
I hear him chuckle as I basically sprint towards the kitchen. Drake’s place is so big I’ll be shocked if I don’t get turned around at some point before I make it to the kitchen. My body is so hot, I open the refrigerator in hopes that it will cool me down. That’s when hot stuff himself struts in, his arm still wrapped in the plastic that he showered with. It’s time to pull myself together. I grab a bottle of water for each of us while he sits down on a barstool.
“You ready for me to fix that and get back in your sling?” I ask more for myself than for Drake. He’s as cool as a cucumber, and I’m over here as bright as a tomato.
“Sure, I think I’m good on food for a few days. The guys’ wives went crazy last weekend meal prepping. I should be good. Though with what they made, I’ll no doubt gain weight. I guess running is out of the question?”
“Do you want to land back in the hospital? I’m pretty sure your discharge papers said six weeks.” I hand him a bottle of water, uncap mine, and guzzle down half the bottle before I start to work on his bandage again.
“Not particularly, but if you’re here, I may ask you to help cook me a few meals that aren’t high on the fat content and carb ratio.” The dark circles under his eyes are showing me he’s getting tired, and I know it won’t be too long before he’ll be back propped up on the couch, resting.
“I can do that. If you let me know what you have in mind, tomorrow when I come by, I’ll cook what you’d like. Let’s change that bandage, then get you some food and sleep. You look like you’re about to keel over.”
“Not sure I like that term, but I am getting tired,” he replies as I get to work taking off the plastic before rebandaging him. Drake’s incision is healing well. There’s only a slight redness, but nothing too bad that I need to tell his doctor.
“It’s the truth.” It only takes me a few minutes before he’s all taken care of.
“Thanks, angel,” he says with a yawn. There’s something about him calling me that, it brings a smile to my face.
“You need help getting to the couch?”
“Nah, I’m good. I’ll see what ESPN is broadcasting. You okay in here alone?” Drake asks.
“Of course. It’s pretty easy to navigate around the kitchen. The house not so much. Your house, it’s, well, it’s big,” I tell him as I get out the chicken parmesan that’s in the containers in the fridge.
“I could go so many ways with that. When I built this place, I knew I’d one day have kids running around. I’m from a family of three boys. My mom is from a family of seven, and my dad had four other siblings. I want this house filled with laughter, squealing, and slamming doors.” My knees being weak earlier, that’s nothing compared to the words that poured from his heart. I don’t even know Drake that well, but you can tell he has a heart of gold underneath that grumpy ‘I’m hungry and angry all at the same time’ exterior.
“Wow,” I breathe out. Drake nods his head, a small grin playing on his face.
“If I haven’t said it yet, thank you. I know I’m not the easiest patient to deal with. I do appreciate your help though.” I watch him leave, enjoying the view the entire time. Even with a sling holding up his shoulder, it doesn’t deter me from taking in his toned back and firm ass, an ass I’ve seen more of than I ever have of any patient.
“Get it together, G,” I mutter to myself, plating Drake’s lunch while looking at the clock. I’m going to have to leave to head to work soon, and I’m finding myself not wanting to leave this incredible man.
“Angel,” I hear Drake shout. The food is abandoned in my haste to get to him, and now I’m glad his house is big and open. It doesn’t take me long to reach him. I stop in my tracks. “What’s wrong?” My heart is beating out of it’s chest.
“Can you hand me the remote? I just got comfortable, and it’s on the other side of the room,” Drake says from his place on the oversized chair. His feet are propped up, and he has a blanket draped on his lap.
“Yeah, but next time, can you ask that without causing me to have a heart attack?” I grab the remote, walking over to hand it to him. Drake’s hand grazes the back of my thigh, causing me to come to a halt. There’s no way this could be happening. Could Drake have the same feelings for me that I have for him, or is this the medicine talking?