Page 73 of Deadly Obsession

“Oxygen tank,” I wheeze. “Bathroom closet.”

She’s turning on her heel without a second thought and returns in record time. When I reach out to take the mask, she smacks my knuckles and puts the mask on me herself. She’s so careful and gentle, making sure the straps aren’t too tight.

“You have a lot of medical supplies in your closet. You really don’t want to go to a hospital, do you?”

I shake my head, unable to speak to tell her that hospitals complicate things. They leave paper trails—well, I suppose it’s all digital now, which is even worse because Elias Carter, mafia Don, doesn’t do digital. Even if most of New York City knows me as Johnny Goode, I’d rather not have my blood or fingerprints uploaded to a system that could be hacked or accessed by law enforcement officials who I don’t have on my payroll.

I close my eyes, letting the air flow through my constricted throat. Sage stands at my shoulder, one hand rubbing up and down my pec while the other combs through my hair.

I might intentionally have allergic reactions if this is the result.

The Benadryl, oxygen, and epinephrine work fast, and my swollen tongue has gone down. When Doctor Wicker arrives, he gives me a corticosteroid shot before checking my vitals.

Sage watches intently as if memorizing everything he’s doing to utilize at another date. Doctor Wicker then givesher instructions to monitor my symptoms for the rest of the night and hands over a card telling her to call him if I show any signs of the inflammation returning.

“I am so sorry,” Sage says, the moment he leaves. Her eyes well up with tears, and I wave her over to the couch where I’m sitting. Doc let me take off the oxygen mask but said to keep it nearby just in case.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about,” I say, wrapping my arms around her waist when she sits on my lap.

She hugs my head to her chest, and I stifle the urge to motorboat the plush mounds.

Inappropriate, Elias. She’s clearly traumatized.

“You could have died!”

“I’ve had plenty of allergic reactions, and I’m still here.”

“Walnut and chocolate chip cookies are my favorite, and I just wanted to share something I love with you. I legit almost killed you.”

“I should have asked before taking a bite.”

Sage gasps. “Wait. We had Pad Thai that one time. Doesn’t that have peanuts?”

“Thai Villa is a nut free restaurant. And even restaurants that aren’t nut free are fine. Cross contamination doesn’t give me that big of a reaction as eating a whole nut, but it’ll still make me itchy, and my throat will swell slightly. I’d rather not risk it, though.”

“Oh.”

She sighs, and we sit there in silence for a few minutes. I listen as her frantic heartbeat slows now that the adrenaline of my allergic reaction has waned.

“Could you imagine if your enemies learned this? Death by nut!” Sage giggles.

She loosens her hold on me and leans in for a kiss but pauses, her eyes wide.

“I need to brush my teeth. I put a lot of walnuts in the cookies and ate two before you got here. I need to clean up the kitchen too.”

“Don’t worry. My cleaning staff already scrubbed it down while we were in here with the doctor.”

Sage’s mouth drops open.

“I didn’t even notice. I should have taken care of it. This is my fault.”

I swallow hard. She thought of all this for me? Brushing her teeth, cleaning the kitchen, wearing gloves...

“I’m surprised this is the first time you’ve had a reaction around me. I really like nuts. I buy the cans that have the cashew, walnut, and peanut mix to snack on at work.” She gets off my lap and winks at me. “Good thing I like you more.”

I sit on the couch, stunned, at... everything. Sage not hesitating to help ease my symptoms. Her being proactive to make sure I don’t get sick again. Her insinuating that she would give up her favorite foods for me.

After I’ve shaken off my disbelief, I head into the kitchen and start setting out everything for dinner: dough, sauce, pepperoni, sausage, cheese, onions, bell peppers, olives, and mushrooms.