Page 19 of The Doctor

Rolling onto my side, I curl into a ball. “Are you blackmailing me?”

“If you want to see it that way, then yes, I am, but all I’m really doing is making sure you’re well taken care of.”

Closing my eyes, I smile. “That’s nice of you.”

“It’s my job. Why don’t you text me your address, and once I’m done here, I’ll stop by?”

“Thank you, Kade.”

“Don’t thank me yet. I can’t promise anything until I check you out.”

“Do you have one of those doctor bag things?”

“I do,” he chuckles. “Get some rest, and I’ll see you in a little while.”

“Okay.” Hanging up, let out a relieved breath. That wasn’t nearly as bad as I thought it was going to be. If I had the energy, I’d make sure I’m presentable before Kade gets here, but he’s going to have to see me in all my grossness.

Shooting him a text with my address, I also let the doorman know I’m going to have a visitor and to let him up when he gets here.

Somehow, knowing Kade’s coming makes my stomach feel a little less queasy. Curling up in bed, it doesn’t take me long to fall asleep.

I’m not sure how long I sleep, but I’m woken up by someone knocking on my door. It sounds like whoever it is, is trying to beat down the door.

Slowly, I get out of bed. Everything hurts as I walk to the door and look through the peephole to find Kade standing on the other side. His mouth is turned down at the corners, and his brows are furrowed as he looks at my door.

He raises his hand to knock again when I open the door.

“I was starting to get worried I’d have to break down your door,” he frowns down at me.

“I’m sorry, I fell asleep while I was waiting for you. How long have you been knocking?”

“Long enough to think something bad happened to you.” He raises his hand and places it to my forehead. “Are you feeling any better?”

“Not really. Everything hurts from throwing up so much.” I step back to let him in. “Please come in. I don’t have the energy to stand here and talk.”

I don’t look back to see if he follows me. I need to sit down before I fall, and adding a broken leg or arm isn’t on my agenda. Slumping down on the couch, I rest my head on the armrest.

Sitting down on the other end of my couch, Kade seems to take up the whole room with his size. Resting his elbows on his knees, he leans forward. “So, how many times on average would you say you’ve beensickdaily?”

“Ugh, I don’t know—too many. Probably at least four, but I feel nauseous almost continually. Is that normal?”

Turning to look at me, his lips tip down. “Unfortunately for some women, yes. It’s hard to tell how your body will react to being pregnant.”

I close my eyes as a round of nausea rolls through me. “I read most women are only sick during the first trimester.”

“That’s true for most, but some are sick up until the day they give birth.”

I open my eyes only to narrow them at him. “Do you tell this to all of your sick patients? Because I can tell you, hearing that is not helpful.”

He cracks a smile. “A good doctor never lies to his patient.”

“A good doctor shouldn’t scare his patient. I can’t live like this for the next seven months.”

Kade stands and puts a bag on my coffee table. “Okay, why don’t you lie down, and then I’ll check you out. I did bring you something that might help, but I want to rule out a couple of other things before I give it to you.”

I don’t think I’ve ever lain down faster. At this point, I’ll do just about anything to feel better. One thing I’ve learned is being on my back seems to intensify my nausea. Why can’t he check me out while I’m curled up on my side?

Pulling out his stethoscope, Kade listens to my heart and asks me to breathe for him a few times. “Can you sit up so I can listen to your lungs and then take your blood pressure?”

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