The doctor checked on Walker Grant again and said, "Let’s keep him under observation for a bit longer. If the fever doesn’t return, he should be fine."
Chloe Reed nodded. "Okay."
The doctor left quickly. Chloe Reed looked at the time and said, "It’s getting late. You should head home."
But Annie York insisted, "Let me stay and keep you company. That way, we can look out for each other tonight."
But Chloe Reed said, "What about your mom? Go on home. I’ll message you tomorrow. If he’s not discharged, you can come back then."
Annie York glanced at the handsome, still-unconscious man on the hospital bed. She was reluctant to leave, but nodded anyway. "Okay, message me then."
"Mm."
"Goodbye, Chloe."
"Goodbye."
The hospital room quickly fell silent.
Chloe Reed was starting to feel drowsy. She yawned, slumped onto the sofa, and closed her eyes.
Something tickled her cheek, like a light object brushing back and forth against it.
She reached up to swat at it, but someone grabbed her hand.
Chloe Reed froze. Her eyes flew open to see Walker Grant leaning over her, gripping her wrist. Her hand was hovering just inches from his cheek.
She blinked in confusion for a moment, then asked, "You’re awake?"
Walker asked, "Is this how you take care of a patient?"
Chloe sat up straight, only then realizing he was still holding her wrist. She quickly pulled free. "It’s the middle of the night, why aren’t you sleeping? Can’t this wait until morning?"
Walker slowly straightened up. "You should sleep on the bed."
Chloe’s brow furrowed. She glanced at the time—three in the morning. The sun would be up in a few hours.
She shook her head. "No, thanks. I’m not fighting a patient for his bed."

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