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He snorts and my heartrate steadies itself a little. Okay, so he’s not so badly hurt he can’t laugh.
“That wasn’t a joke.”
Alice sighs. “It doesn’t have to be who the president is, it can be anything.”
“Okay, sorry.”
She smiles and shakes her head. “Just take care of him. You’re good at that.”
“Okay,” I blush. “I can do that.”
When I’ve shown Alice out, I come back in to find Alexei propping himself up on my little pillow fort.
“Is this for me?” He asks when he catches me looking.
“Yeah, is it comfortable enough?”
“Yeah, I’m really tired though, I wish I could sleep.”
Shit. Did Alice say he couldn’t go to sleep right away? Do I have to actually wake him up every three hours or just check he’s still breathing?
“Do you think you could try and stay awake for a little bit? I really don’t want you to die… on my watch.”
He snorts again, picking the clicker up and pointing it at the TV. “Why aren’t you watching one of those house flipping shows?”
He seems kinda drunk. Is that how people with a concussion act? I’ll have to covertly Google it while we watch TV.
“Put whatever you want on. Do you want me to make you something to eat?”
He makes a face. Okay, no food then.
“How about some tea? Can you have herbal tea? I think I have lemon, or peppermint somewhere.”
“Stef.” He looks up at me finally. His eye is bloodshot and there’s dried blood in his hair. I don’t even recognize the feeling that shoots through me at the sight of him hurt like this. I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I couldn’t feel any more strongly than if it were Ari sitting there all cut and hurt like this.
“Stef?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m fine, come and sit down, you’re making me nervous.”
“Okay, sorry.” I make a move to the couch.
“Don’t apologize, I appreciate you doing this.”
“I don’t mind.” I take a seat next to him, giving him some space. “But for the record, why didn’t you want to stay with one of your teammates?”
He shrugs. “I want my own bed at some point, and they all live with big groups of guys, so they don’t have the room.”
He’s turned over half-way through an episode of one of my lesser favored house flipping shows. While he watches, I Google the symptoms of a concussion and what to do and what not to do.
“Alexei!” I snatch the clicker off him and turn the TV off.
“Hey, I was watching that.”
“You’re not supposed to watch TV.”
He rolls his eyes and then winces.