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Beside me, Ethan picks up a magazine with a bride on the front. “I can’t believe I’m getting married in three days.”
“Getting married, I believe.” I draw in a heavy breath, anxiety rushing through me. Running my palms over my thighs, I try to force myself to relax. “You two raising a kid, that should be your concern.”
I can feel him staring at me. “I can’t wait to be a dad.”
“Uh-huh.”
The door to our right opens. “Oh my God, look at you!” Leigha gushes, rushing toward me in her navy scrubs. I stand and she forces me to hug her. “I changed my schedule around so I could be here for our boy.”
Our boy? I don’t know why they like me so much. I wasn’t nice to any of them. Smiling at her, I return the hug. “I’ll be nice if you give me good news,” I tell her as she’s leading me back and Ethan is insisting on going with me. I gesture with a nod. “I don’t feel safe with him around.”
Ethan follows regardless. “Don’t worry. I’ll look away when they ask you to turn your head and cough.”
Leigha rolls her eyes. “It’s not that kind of appointment.”
“It’s a good thing it’s not because he’d probably—” His words are cut off by my elbow in his stomach.
“I really missed you kids.” Leigha shakes her head, opening the door to an exam room. “How’s Evie? I thought she’d come with you.”
Ethan looks up from the magazine he brought in with him, taking a seat next to me in a chair pushed up against the wall lined with windows. “You’re not happy to see me?”
“You’re cute.” She pulls out a blood pressure cuff, closing the drawer with her hip. “But Evie brought me coffee in the mornings. Coffee triumphs cuteness every time.”
“I brought you a muffin once.”
“That you ate the top off and then gave to me,” she adds, motioning me to pass her my hand.
Ethan stares at her, blinking slowly and then looks back at the magazine, flipping the page. “It’s the thought that counts.”
Groaning, I pull up my sleeve as she slips the cuff on.
Leigha frowns. “Grayson, it’s 162 over 96.”
Shit. I play dumb. “That’s apparently not good?”
Her eyes narrow. “No. It’s not at all.” She slides the cuff off my arm. “How long has it been like this?”
I push my sleeve down. “No idea.”
Swiping her finger across a screen, she makes a note. “We might need to start blood pressure medication.”
Again, I groan. “Not another medication.”
“Sorry, dude. It can’t be that high consistently. High blood pressure means swelling in your brain. That’s a bad thing.”
“I’m nervous. That’s probably why it’s so high,” I point out, trying like hell to give her a puppy dog face or anything that would resemble “please don’t write another prescription.”
Her eyes lift from the screen to mine. “Why are you nervous?”
“Because he—” Ethan hunches forward, coughing. “You need to stop hitting me.”
“Then stop saying stupid shit.”
“Ultimately it’s up to Dr. Nehls, but just know he might.” Leigha sets the iPad on the counter.
“They don’t want my blood pressure high, but I can’t do anything. It stresses me out. I’m alive but can barely do anything for myself.”
“Literally.” Ethan remarks and then jumps up before I can hit him again. “I’ll be in the waiting room. It’s too hostile in here.”