Chapter 6

6

“How are you feeling, Piper?” Dr. Granger asks when she steps into the room. She’s in her late forties, with blonde hair she wears in a clip. She’s nice, but a little intimidating.

“Better after I ate the steak,” I admit.

She nods, looking satisfied. “We’re going to run some blood tests to determine what’s going on, but first, let me take a look at your neck.”

I press my lips together, flummoxed. “I…I don’t think I said it was my neck.”

The doctor looks surprised. “It wasn’t?”

“No…it was.”

“Nine times out of ten, that’s where it is.”

“I’m confused,” I say as she prods the scar. “My brain keeps jumping to impossible conclusions.”

She gives me a brief smile as she places her stethoscope on my chest. “Take a deep breath.”

I do as I’m told, and then she moves to my back. After I breathe again, I say with a weak laugh, “If this were a movie, I’m pretty sure you would tell me the guy was a vampire.”

Dr. Granger holds up a light. “Say ah.”

Her strange silence doesn’t make me feel much better. She then checks my ears and goes back to her laptop.

“Your vitals look all right,” she says, “though your pulse is a little fast and your temperature is a few degrees too low—but that’s normal, too.”

“Normal for what?”

She gives me another professional smile. “First, let’s see what the blood tests tell us.”

“Something is wrong with me, though?” I say, feeling lightheaded.

“I don’t want to misdiagnose it, so we’ll wait until I can read your results. But you shouldn’t worry too much. If it’s what I think it is, it’s easily managed. You’ll be feeling better in no time.”

“Oh…okay.”

“Go on up to the lab on the second floor. I’ve called in an order. They should be able to get you right in.”

“When will my results be ready?”

“I should have them next week. We’ll talk more then.”

I nod numbly.

Dr. Granger pauses by the door before she leaves. “Tonight, eat another steak. Stay away from fruits, vegetables, and grains until next week’s appointment.”

I stare at her blankly. “You can’t be serious.”

“It’s just until we get you back on track.”

“Wait, am I contagious? Can I make someone else sick?”

“No.”

“You’re sure?”

“Positive.”

After she leaves, I walk down the hall and stop at the office to take care of my co-pay. When I’m finished, I step into the lobby and find Noah sitting in a chair, reading a children’s magazine.

“Sophisticated choice of reading material you have there,” I say lightly, pretending my mind isn’t reeling.

He sets it aside. “It was this or a celebrity trash magazine.”

“Were you able to spot all twenty differences?”

“I couldn’t find the wrench,” he says solemnly. “But I don’t think it was actually in there.”

I laugh, glad for the distraction from the mess that is my life. “I’m supposed to go up to the second floor for a blood draw. Do you mind sticking around a little longer, or should I call my brother?”

“I’m fine,” he says. “How are you feeling? Elevator or stairs?”

“Stairs,” I immediately answer, my palms already sweating. I’ll do anything to avoid the needle for as long as possible.

Noah stands next to me when we reach the counter.

“Dr. Granger sent me up,” I tell the receptionist.

She looks at her paperwork. “Piper?”

“That’s right.”

“We’re ready for you.” She stands, coming around to open the door. “Right this way.”

“Do you want me to come in, or should I wait out here?” Noah asks.

“I…well…”

I’m terrified of needles. Anything pokey, really. Don’t get me started with mosquitoes—nasty little bloodsuckers.

Instead of answering, I grasp Noah’s arm and yank him with me. I can feel his morbid curiosity, but he’ll have to satiate it after this is over.

“Take a seat here,” the woman says. “We’ll be with you in a minute.”

The padded chair is electric blue, and the room is small, lit with bright fluorescent bulbs. I try hard not to look too closely at the counters or the equipment on them.

Once we’re alone, Noah crosses his arms, studying me. “Scared of needles?”

“Terrified.”

Before he can answer, the tech walks into the room. “Hi, Piper,” he says. “How are you today?”

“Fine,” I squeak.

The man smiles. He’s likely in his late fifties. His short beard and mustache are peppered with gray, reminding me of a friendly schnauzer. “You a little nervous?”

“Nope.”

For some reason, he looks skeptical. Maybe because my hands are clenched so tightly on the arms of the chair, my knuckles are white.

“You can hold her left hand if you want,” the tech says to Noah, assuming he would like to offer comfort since he’s here with me. “I can’t promise it will be painless, but I will make it quick. Sound okay?”

I nod, pretending I’m far braver than I am.

Noah steps forward, offering his hand—though he doesn’t look keen to do so. I should politely decline and take the blood draw like a big girl. The poor man keeps stumbling into my drama, feeling oddly obligated to play knight in shining armor, even though he does so with the stoic expression of a man going into battle.

You think I’d let him off the hook and tell him he can leave. But do I do that? Of course not. I grasp hold of his hand, squeezing his fingers too hard.

“Don’t watch,” the tech instructs. “Just breathe in and out, nice and slow.”

It takes a bit for the man to find my vein, likely because I’m dehydrated. He prods and taps, gentle as can be, and every passing second feels longer than a minute. Eventually, he says in a calm, soothing voice, “Just a little poke.”

I jump when I feel the prick of the needle, but I focus on Noah’s hand. His skin is kind of rough, and his fingers are long.

“All done,” the tech says. “You did great.”

I pry my eyes open as he presses a cotton ball to my inner elbow and wraps a bright pink stretchy bandage around it. “You can take it off in five to ten minutes. You’re free to leave.”

“Thank you.” I jump up, more than ready to be out of here. The second I stand, little black dots mar my vision, and I stumble forward…

Right into Noah’s arms.

“Whoa there,” the tech laughs. “I didn’t take that much blood.”

“She’s been feeling rough today,” Noah says, the words rumbling in his chest. And I can feel them because I happen to be pressed against said chest. And holy crow, what a nice place to be.

Noah loops an arm around my waist to keep me from falling, and now his hand rests on my lower back. My shirt is up a smidge, and his fingers hover over bare skin.

“You want some apple juice?” the tech asks.

I step away from Noah, though believe me, I have no desire to do so.

“I’m okay,” I say. “I think I just stood up a little too quickly.”

The man nods. “You sure?”

“Yep.”

“All right then.” He steps out of the room. “You two have a good day.”

“Are you ready to go?” Noah asks as soon as we’re alone.

“Yeah.”

He directs me to the elevator, apparently not trusting me on the stairs. As we take the short ride down, I close my eyes and lean my head back. The motion makes me feel a little woozy.

When the doors open, Noah loops his arm with mine, tugging me into the foyer. An elderly woman with a walker bestows a benevolent smile upon us, probably thinking we’re a couple.

We reach Noah’s SUV, and he opens the door for me. If we weren’t walking out of my physician’s office, and if I were wearing something other than flip-flops and a pair of artfully torn jeans I found at a secondhand shop, this might feel like a date.

I slide into the passenger’s side of the vehicle, accidentally knocking off a receipt on the console. When I turn to pick it up, my eyes fall on a duffle bag that sits on the back seat. It’s half open, and I can’t figure out what he’s got in there.

Noah glances back when he slides into the driver’s seat. “Landscaping stakes.”

“Why do you keep them in a duffel bag?”

“I didn’t want them rolling around in the backseat.”

“Huh.” I retrieve the receipt and tuck it into one of the cup holders. “Are you redoing your yard?”

“My parents are putting in a new patio.”

“How long have you been back in town?”

He glances over as he turns onto the road. “About a month.”

“Where were you before?”

“You ask a lot of questions.”

I sit back, staring out the windshield, trying to hold my tongue.

Noah glances over. “Did your doctor give you any dietary restrictions?”

“I’m supposed to eat meat,” I say darkly.

Now that my stomach isn’t churning, a salad sounds good. The last thing I want is another steak.

“Did she give you any idea why you’ve been feeling off?” he asks.

“No.” I sigh. “She said we’ll talk about it next week when the bloodwork results come in.”

“Are you still dizzy?”

“Who’s the one asking all the questions now?” I steal a glance at him and try not to laugh when he suppresses an eye roll.

I probably shouldn’t tease him, but I can’t seem to help myself. He’s so adorably solemn.

“I’m feeling okay,” I say. “Better than I have in a while.”

“You’ll be all right at home?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you want to stop by the store first? I’m not sure tofu and green olives are the kind of sustenance your doctor had in mind.”

I peer at him. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

“Nice?” He looks over, raising his eyebrows. “I just insulted the contents of your fridge.”

“Don’t try to twist it around.”

“I don’t know anyone around here anymore, and for some reason, I keep running into you. It’s more like a lack of options.”

“Ohhh.” I draw out the word. “You have no social life, and you’re bored.”

He flashes me a dark look.

“Probably because you’re a bit prickly.”

“Do you want to go to the store or not?”

I settle into my seat, smiling. “I do.”

We pull into Noah’s parents’ shop about fifteen minutes later. When we walk in the front, we find Britta loading cartons of apples into a display by the door.

“Piper!” She beams when she spots us. “Are you feeling better?”

I nod. “A little bit.”

She turns to her brother. “What are you doing here? I thought you took the afternoon off.”

Feeling a touch wicked—having a good idea that Britta’s been playing matchmaker behind the scenes—I tell her, “Noah ended up cooking the steak and then taking me to my doctor’s appointment. Your grocery store has killer customer service.”