And if I am really being truthful, I sometimes wish Phillip would kiss me.
I mean how many guys would ditch the girl they are dating to come home and take care of you?
But that is a whole other topic.
I glance at Phillip, who's eyes have gotten even bigger. I didn't think it was possible, but they do.
He is sooo jealous, it's hilarious and I can't help it, I feel a wicked pleasure in that.
“Don't look so freaked out. Neither one of us is dating anyone seriously, and you know, there's always been this attraction…”
My story is interrupted by the doctor walking back in the room. He picks my chart up and continues reading it.
I have to tell you, the look on Phillip's face is totally priceless. I really wish I had a camera.
I bite my lip and try to suppress a smile.
Phillip sees my smirk. “You're shitting me, aren't you?”
Then he gives me that glare. The glare that always makes me spill my guts, whether I want to or not.
Normally I try to fight it, to no avail, but I don't even try today.
I am much too weak.
“Yeah, I am,” I smile.
“So are you going to tell me what really happened?”
“Yeah, sure. It really is no big deal. He came home the other day when I was getting ready for my sorority meeting. I was vacuuming the living room because some of the girls were coming over afterwards, and you guys left chip crumbs all over the floor. Danny laughed at me and said I looked like a 50's sitcom, vacuuming in a dress and high heels. He walked out the door, then swung the door back open and said, Lucy! I'm home! Then he walked over, grabbed me around the waist, dipped me and kissed me. Like Ricky used to do on those old I Love Lucy reruns. He was just being goofy.”
And um, confession time.
It wasn't just a kiss.
He did do the whole Lucy thing, but while I was still leaned back, he asked me if Phillip was home.
I shook my head no.
Then he picked me up, carried me to the couch, laid on top of me and was intensely kissing me. It was totally unexpected and so hot.
I really thought we might cross the line this time, actually, I was sure of it. But about the time things were heading that direction, and just after Danny had whispered, I think it's about time we, you know, and then, your place or mine, as in who's bedroom are we going to do this in, we heard Phillip's car door slam. We both said, Shit, bolted up off the couch, and ran to our own bedrooms before Phillip bounded in the door.
And poof, the mood vanished.
The doctor was listening to my story, and he's been standing there very still. He eyes the number 12 football jersey I'm wearing and cries out, “Are you talking about Danny Diamond?”
“Yeah,” Phillip and I say at the same time.
“But the Oklahoma game is this weekend. He can't be sick!”
Obviously this man bleeds Husker red, like most everyone in the state.
“Get him here!” he orders.
Phillip calls Danny on his cell and tells him to come to the hospital. As he is talking to Danny, the doctor says, “Tell him to come to this room, like a visitor. We certainly don't want the media to get wind of this.”
Actually, he is right about that.
Danny finally shows up at the hospital, about an hour later, with flowers for me.
He's so sweet!
By this time, my tests have come back and it's been determined that I do not have meningitis.
Thank God!
Instead, I have a severe case of strep throat, and evidently strep throat can be very dangerous and have serious complications if not treated.
As in you can get rheumatic fever and go into heart failure.
Something I did not know and really wish I hadn't discovered.
I'm dehydrated and weak, so they hooked me up to an IV and gave me two shots of antibiotics.
One in each butt cheek.
Um, not cool.
I'm still trying to figure out why they just didn't put the antibiotics in my IV. I'm pretty sure it was the doctor's way of paying me back for possibly getting Danny Diamond sick.
“Danny, I'm Dr. Daniels. I've been taking care of your friend, Jadyn, here,” the doctor says, shaking Danny's hand.
Phillip and I glance at each other and roll our eyes.
The man is a doctor, and he's kissing up to Danny. That tells you how important football is in the Cornhusker state. Phillip and I are used to it now. We just try to fade into the background. Sometimes, I don't know how Danny does it. How he manages to be so nice to people who just come up to him, even if he's like right in the middle of dinner or a date or something.
He takes it all so well though. Luckily, he has the kind of personality where no one is a stranger. He'll shake old guy's and little kid's hands all day long. He tells us being a Husker quarterback is a privilege, and he needs to act like a role model and honor the legacy of all the great Husker players in history, or some other bullshit like that.
Actually, he really believes it.
I'm really very proud of the way he handles himself. He always speaks clearly and intelligently to the media, and they seem to love him. Of course, it helps that the team is winning, and Danny is playing well. And he has a standard line he uses when the media asks him what he wants out of his football career, I just want to bring the National Championship trophy back home to Nebraska.
They eat that kind of crap up. Of course, that really is what he wants.
The media is tricky though. Over the years, we've seen them be totally ruthless to very talented quarterbacks, who frankly, just didn't have the right team combination to win.
So Danny is smart enough to know, that as far as the media is concerned, you're only as good as your last game.
My thoughts are interrupted by the doctor asking Danny for an autograph. For his kid.
Sure it is.
Danny looks at me wearing his shirt. “Hey Jay, give me your shirt. I'll sign that.”
Excuse me, but I'm wearing it!
After much ado and embarrassment, I'm now in a stupid hospital gown and the doctor is proudly holding a Danny Diamond autographed shirt.
I hope it has strep throat germs all over it!
Danny, as usual, is getting all the attention.
The team doctor shows up at the hospital, my doctor had called him. Even though Danny says he feels fine, they decide to do a strep test on him.
“We can't risk him getting sick this week.”
Hello. I'm the sick one here. Do we really need to be worried about Danny? He looks just fine.
And I do mean fine.
I don't know where he was, but damn.
He's wearing an aqua blue T-shirt that is just the right side of tight and that makes his eyes a blazing blue.
And I must be feeling better because I didn't really notice that before.
Just my luck, he tests positive for strep and ends up in the bed next to me.
Phillip smiles at the two of us, “How adorable. Matching antibiotics, IVs and hospital gowns.