Waiting is agony. Waiting sucks. Waiting is all we seem to be doing.
“You should head home,” I grumble as I snuggle into Liam’s chest. I want him to want to leave. Which is stupid because he’s my pillow right now, but if he wants to go, this nagging, festering feeling inside might leave me alone.
Liam sags in the chair so I have a more comfortable position, and the rumble of his laughter vibrates through his chest. It’s now 5 A.M. and no one but Aarabelle is sleeping. “I’ll leave right now if that’s what you really want.”
Butterflies stir in my belly. What do I want? I wish I knew.
“Nah,” my reluctant reply falls out. “I need my pillow. I’m going to keep using you for now.”
“You can use me anytime, Lee.”
I can reply or choose to pretend. I’m going with pretending. The nursing staff has the world’s worst or best timing, depending on how I want to look at this, because she strides in to check on Aara. My head rises and I head over to be close to her.
“We’re just checking her fever again,” she explains and begins to assess her vitals.
Standing next to my daughter while they check her again, the fear gnaws its way up. Wondering whether the fever has come down any lower, and if not, what’s the next step? She looks at the thermometer and shakes her head no. She’s still running around 101, but at least we’re out of the danger zone.
“Are the test results back from her scan?” I ask.
“I’ll check on it, but the doctor will be in as soon as we know anything.” She smiles and grips my hand. “It’s a good thing the fever isn’t rising.”
I close my eyes and nod. I guess it’s good. I wish she wasn’t sick at all, but I’m happy Liam is here. The waiting has been agony and I can’t imagine not having his support. I look over at him as he rests in the recliner and fight the urge to giggle. This six-foot, bulky man is spilling over this tiny chair. His legs almost touch the crib Aarabelle is asleep in and his arms practically touch the ground. It’s comical. His hair is a mess and his three-day-old beard only makes him look more adorable. He was always handsome, but the more I look at him, I see the small things. The crinkle around his eyes and the scar on his forearm that add to his appeal. He’s going to make some woman very happy.
“Are you done staring?” he grumbles with one eye open.
Shit.
“I wasn’t staring. I was trying to figure out if you were dead since you weren’t moving,” I lie and turn so he doesn’t see my cheeks redden.
“Sure you were . . .” He gives a low chuckle.
“Whatever, you’re old and fat.” I wave my hand at him.
Liam’s large frame rises and casts a shadow over me. He takes a step toward me with a smirk on his face. My eyes stay locked with his. He’s out of his mind if he thinks I’m going to back down.
With a measured step he comes closer. Neither of us breaks our gaze.
I read the hesitation behind his eyes. He’s as unsure as I am, but we’re both too stubborn to give in.
“Aaaaaa,” Aarabelle cries out, and I break and look at her.
“Hi, baby girl,” I say softly and lift her carefully so I don’t disconnect anything. She still feels warm and begins to fuss. Why isn’t the fever breaking?
Liam’s firm hand squeezes my shoulder as if he can read my distress. “I’ll call the nurse,” he declares and goes to press the button.
Before he can, Dr. Hewat walks in, lifting papers in the chart. “Okay, we got the results back from the scan and her blood screen.” She looks at us both with empathy swimming in her eyes. “She has a urinary tract infection that spread to her kidneys, which is what caused the fever. We need to treat her with antibiotics and make sure her kidneys are functioning properly. Also, I want to watch the fever since she did have the convulsions. But she should be fine. I’m going to order the medicine now.”
I release a breath with relief. She’s going to be okay. Thank God.
“Will the fever come down?” I question.
“It should. Can you place her on the bed for me?”
I lay her down and the doctor comes around the other side. She begins to listen to her heart and abdomen. “She’s doing well, and I think once we get the antibiotics working, the fever will break and she’ll be back to normal,” Dr. Hewat explains and pats my hand. “In the meantime, we need to keep her hydrated and watch her closely.”
“Okay,” I nod and Aarabelle lifts her arms for me to pick her up.
Scooping my baby in my arms, I pull her close and say a silent prayer of thanks that this was not anything serious. She’s my world and I don’t think I could survive burying my husband and my child in the same year. I can’t even allow my mind to drift there.
Liam’s eyes gleam as he rubs the side of her face with adoration in his eyes. He’s a good man and he cares about Aarabelle and me. He could’ve been at a bar or doing whatever else he wants, but he came to us. I’m grateful that he’s here. I place my hand over his and a charge runs from my fingers to my shoulder. We both look at each other and my body locks. I see the catch in his breath as he feels it too.
Moving my hand away quickly, I take a few seconds to calm my racing heart and walk to the other side of Aarabelle’s crib. Distance . . . I need to keep my distance. I don’t understand what’s happening. Liam is my friend, he’s Aaron’s friend . . . it’s wrong to even think about him.
“Lee?” Liam breaks me out of my thoughts. He begins to step around, but I put my hand up to stop him.
“I’m fine. I think I’m overwhelmed, but I’ll be fine.”
“Back to ‘fine’ again. Got it.”
Screw him. I am fine. “What does that mean?”
“I’m tired. You’re tired. Tomorrow if you’re feeling up to a sparring match, I’m game.” Liam yawns and flops in the chair behind him. He pulls his beanie over his eyes and smirks.
Bastard.