The Professor

Chapter Fifteen | Falling

"SLOAN!!!"

I awaken immediately, unsure if I dreamt my name being screamed or not. I'm still on the sofa with James, his warm body pressed into mine. He's awake too and I can only   assume my sudden movement has aroused him.

"SLOAN!!!"

Shit!

I spring from the sofa and grab the first item of clothing I can see. I quickly shove James' shirt on and go in search of Lara, hating how distressed she sounds.

"Hey," I say, entering my bedroom. "I'm here, what's wrong?"

I switch on the lamp and find her in bed, withering in pain.

"It hurts, Sloan. Really bad."

Tears soak her cheeks as sweat runs down her forehead. I crouch next to her, helpless to the pain she's experiencing.

"I'll get your meds."

"I've been drinking!" she informs, distressed.

I check the clock on my nightstand. "That was hours ago. You'll be fine to take them now."

I rummage around in her washbag and retrieve the packet of pills. James emerges by the doorway, concerned.

"Everything alright?"

Lara turns to him. "You've killed me with all that dancing."

Her statement is meant as a joke but the discomfort in her tone prevents it from coming across that way.

"I'm sorry," he replies, coming to her aid by kneeling on the carpet next to where I am. "Try elevating your legs."

I look at him, stunned.

"Sloan told me a few weeks ago about your arthritis," he explains, eyes on Lara still. "I did a little research."

This man never ceases to amaze me. His kindness and compassion have no limits and I love that about him.

Wait? What?

Love.

"Can you get me a cushion, please?" she asks.

Her voice shakes as she cries.

Love.

"Sure."

Do I fucking love him?

"Sloan?"

Lara looks to the packet of painkillers in my hand, wondering why I've yet to dish them out.

"Sorry," I say, handing them over. "Can you stay with her while I make a hot water bottle?"

Heat helps relieve the pain and I need a moment alone to process my thoughts.

"Of course," he replies, smiling.

He's managed to throw on his jeans but—thanks to me stealing his shirt—remains topless. Lara doesn't seem to notice, and I'm certainly not about to make comment on it. My priority right now is Lara and getting her pain levels down.

"Thanks."

I head towards our kitchen and fill up the hot water bottle I keep under the sink. Jasmine and Nicole seem to have slept through the screaming and I'm glad. Nicole would no doubt notice I'm wearing James' shirt and question it. I hate lying to her and the more people who find out, the more I feel like I'm keeping something from her. Part of me wants to tell her, but I don't know how I'd go about suggesting that to James. Our relationship was supposed to be casual. If I bring up wanting to tell Nicole, I'm practically declaring my love for him. And I'm not ready for that. I doubt he's ready for that...