Within These Walls (Within These Walls #1)(7)

After my tray had been taken away, I’d realized that I’d handed my spoon over with the rest of my dinnerware, so I’d no longer had anything to use for the pudding. I’d sat there, staring at my pudding for a while, as I’d tried to decide if I really wanted to bother the poor nursing staff with bringing me a spoon, or if I should wait until later. Then, I’d remembered the events of the day and the fact that I was supposed to be snug in my own bed. So, I’d peeled the top off and just decided to go for it.

No one had been around anyway, and I hadn’t been trying to impress anyone.

So, yep, I’d eaten it with my fingers—after washing my hands first, of course.

My little trip down memory lane proved one thing—well, two actually. I wasn’t losing my mind, and this was indeed new chocolate deliciousness perched in front of me.

But from whom?

Dr. Marcus had brought the first one, so I guessed it would be logical to assume he’d brought the second one. A small smile danced across my face. He always did like to spoil me. I made a mental note to thank him when he came in to check on me later.

I got up and readied myself for the day—showering, brushing my teeth, and pulling a brush through my wet hair. Then, I might have possibly eaten that pudding before breakfast.

“Hey, did you, by chance, sneak into my room last night—you know, after I fell asleep—to drop off another pudding cup on my tray for me to wake up to?” I asked Dr. Marcus.

He looked up from the computer screen, his mouth slightly ajar, as he stared at me with a bewildered expression on his face. I really wished I had a camera to capture it.

“Did I what?”

“Sneak into my room? To bring me chocolate pudding?” I repeated, not even trying to hide the grin quickly spreading across my face.

“No, I definitely did not do that. I might be a little unconventional, but sneaking into my patients’ rooms late at night is one thing I haven’t attempted yet,” he answered with a wink.

He finished my checkup and gave me a bit of good news.

“No oxygen tonight Lailah. Let’s see how things go. I’ll be back to check on you tomorrow,” he announced, with a warm, encouraging smile.

My heartbeat was still irregular, and I wasn’t feeling all that great. Those were two signs that I wouldn’t be busting out of this place anytime soon. All the cozy grins in the world couldn’t distract me from that cold hard truth.

The next two days passed by without much change. The only shift in my mundane hospital existence was the arrival of the new nursing assistant. I’d only seen him a handful of times, but each time he passed by my door, I would find myself leaning forward just to catch the last tiny glimpse of him walking by. He was like a Greek god covered in tattoos—and scrubs.

Or at least that’s what the nurses were describing him as.

Having spent the majority of my life in a hospital bed, I knew that I was a little innocent when it came to the male species, but I understood hot when it smacked me in the face—or walked by my door and the little I’d seen was definitely droolworthy.

He wasn’t just hot. He was different.

Different and hot were a deadly combination for all females, even me, and that made him interesting.

He’d come into my room a few times, checked my vitals even, but he had barely spoken a word. He would only mumble a hello or something as he typed on the keyboard. With his head lowered, he would just do his job, methodically taking my blood pressure—which I was sure had gone wonky in his presence—and then he’d move on to the next task. His touch alone had been distinct, haunting almost. It was something I couldn’t yet comprehend. When everything had been completed, I would get one brief peek into his haunting sea-glass green eyes as he’d give a quick nod in my direction. Then, he’d vanish.

Each time he had come into my room, I’d wanted to talk to him—ask him something, anything—just to hear him speak again, but I’d never really spoken to people my age.

What would I say?

Hey, did you see Jimmy Fallon last night?

Are college parties as crazy as they are in movies?

Do people really say words like totes and fo’ rizzle?

Outside of TV and books, I had no idea what went on in the real world. My life existed in and out of a hospital. When I wasn’t here, I would be at home. So scared of what the outside world might do to my health, my mother had sheltered me from almost everything beyond the safety of what she could control. I’d been homeschooled since I was in kindergarten, I’d never been allowed to do anything outdoors, and I couldn’t remember a single memory of my life that hadn’t involved a doctor of some sort.

Besides the tattooed addition to the staff, the other excitement to my life had been the continuation of my special pudding deliveries. Just like the first day, I would wake up to find a single chocolate pudding cup awaiting me as I rose from bed each and every day.

By the fourth day, I’d created a list of potential suspects. Since Dr. Marcus was out, my list was now reduced to three people—Grace, my overly enthusiastic and recently engaged day nurse; the little girl from down the hall, who would sometimes visit me; and my mother who knew I was in need of some cheering up.

Scooting my broccoli around my lunch plate, I looked at my list. Yes, I’d actually written out a list on paper. I had a lot of time on my hands.