Page 6 of Concussion Protocol
I send Regina a text and let her know what’s going on. She has the audacity to send me a laughing emoji in response to my plight.
My energy is waning by the time I sneak back in the room to check on Jon. He looks peaceful, and I can't help but smile down at his gorgeous face. He seems like a genuinely nice guy. It's too bad I couldn't have met him in different circumstances. Although, to be fair, I probably wouldn't have given him a chance. My experience with Eric was bad enough that I've sworn off athletes, and the fact that he's on the same team as my ex would have been a hard no.
And there’s the wholehe’s straightthing, too. I suppose that should be taken into consideration. Everything about this is a red flag that I will be staying far,faraway from.
"You're still here?" Jon's voice is groggy and confused.
"Uh, yeah. You shouldn't be left alone the first night after a head injury."
"The doctor said I probably don't have a concussion."
"Yeah, but she also said to watch for any headaches, dizziness, or nausea. And her discharge instructions recommended being supervised if you have any symptoms."
"I'm fine, pretty Shane."
I huff a laugh. Still loopy. He’s half asleep, his eyes losing focus as he drifts off again.
“I’m just borrowing a pillow,” I whisper, reaching across him to grab a pillow from the other side of the bed.
A strong arm latches around me and pulls me down on top of him.
“Jon!”
“You should sleep in the bed. I’ll take the couch.”
Despite the words he mumbles, he doesn’t make an attempt to move. Instead, he rolls himself onto his side and pulls me against him.
I end up with a half-asleep giant of a man laying half on top of me. In his sleepy, drugged state, I don't think he realizes what he's doing. Before I can even attempt to push him off me, he’s snoring softly. The tickle of his breath, the warmth of his heavy body, and the softness of the mattress below me all converge on me at once. I'm so fucking exhausted. I don’t have the energy to expend to get him off. I'll just rest here long enough for him to shift off me, and then I'll move.
CHAPTER 2
JON
Bright morning light pulses against my eyelids, waking a dull throbbing in my head. I squeeze my eyes tighter and bury my head in the soft body I'm curled around. With a deep huff of contentment, I pull the warm body tighter against me, nuzzling my nose into hair and inhaling the scent of soap, something sweet like vanilla, and the faint tinge of bleach.
A soft moan has me moving my lips along soft skin, rolling my hips into a mound of flesh that pushes back against me but is frustratingly on the wrong side of the covers. I groan and roll my hips again, my hand pushing under soft cotton to smooth along lean abs and up a firm chest.
My hand freezes and my eyes fly open. I blink several times as the form next to me comes into focus. A very masculine form.
Pulling my hand back with a soft gasp, I accidentally wake the guy sleeping in my bed. He wakes with a start and scrambles away, almost falling off the opposite side of the bed.
I can't help but laugh as flashes of memory start to come back to me in my sleepy state. I was a little out of it last night, but I was in control of my faculties and perfectly aware of everything.Except how I ended up in bed with him. That part I definitely don’t remember.
"Shane?" I say, my voice gravelly with sleep and a sore throat.
"Uh, yeah. Hi," he says awkwardly, pulling a pillow in front of him as he stands and backs as far away as he can before he hits my closet door.
"You okay?" I ask.
His dark green eyes blink and dart around the room before settling back on me. A flash of those same eyes looking at me from down on his knees has a grin spreading across my face.As confused as I’d been by my reaction to him in the ER, I was clear minded enough to know I wanted to get to know him better. I don’t hate this unexpected development of waking up with him in my bed.
"I-I didn't mean to fall asleep," he says, swallowing deeply. My eyes track the movement of his Adam's apple, and I lick my dry lips. "I came to check on you, and you sort of pulled me down and then started snoring. I was basically your unwitting teddy bear all night." He chuckles uncomfortably. "I thought eventually I'd be able to slip out, but I was running on fumes already. I'm really sorry," he says, looking down. He seems to realize that he's holding one of my pillows and quickly tosses it back before smoothing down his rumpled black scrubs and inching towards the door.
"You stayed to take care of me." It's a statement more than a question. As groggy as I am, I remember everything up until he tucked me into bed last night. The dull throbbing in my head reminds me just how badly it was hurting last night, and how I'd gotten so dizzy that I puked in my kitchen sink.Gross.
I groan. “You stayed to take care of me, and I thanked you by holding you hostage and feeling you up. I’m the one that should be sorry.”
Emphasis onshouldbe.
