Spencer Cohen Series, Book Three (The Spencer Cohen Series 3) by N.R. Walker

gaze shot to mine, and he visibly sagged with relief. “Oh, Spencer.”
    “What time…?” I couldn’t even finish that sentence. “Water?”
    He quickly fetched me a small cup and gently put it to my lips. The relief of the cool liquid down my throat was immediate. “Thanks.”
    Andrew put the cup on the table over my feet. “It’s ten past eight,” he said, collecting my hand again. “You’ve been here since five-ish. The paramedics brought you in.”
    I didn’t remember any of it.
    “Mom,” Andrew called out. Almost instantly Helen, Allan, and Sarah appeared. “Can you tell them he’s awake?”
    “I’ll go,” Sarah said before disappearing.
    Helen walked over to my bed. She put her hand on my arm and smiled sadly. “I’m very sorry this happened. I did specify shellfish allergy. I’ll be dealing with the caterers; don’t you worry.”
    A nurse came into the room— Am I in a private room ?—and checked some machines and asked me how I was feeling. Then a doctor walked in, but when he discussed my “severe allergic reaction” and the drugs they’d given me, he spoke more to Andrew’s parents than to me.
    “When was his first allergic reaction?” the doc asked them. Did the doctor think Andrew’s parents were mine as well?
    Of course they wouldn’t have known when I had my first allergic reaction. “When I was three,” I answered. “That was the first time. And again when I was twelve.”
    The doctor’s eyebrows furrowed. “They’re getting worse, I assume?”
    I nodded, then shrugged. “Maybe.”
    “Well, you’re very lucky your step-father was there to administer the epinephrine. Or they’d be visiting you in the basement, if you know what I mean.”
    Basements in hospitals meant morgue. “Yeah.”
    “We’ll keep him in overnight,” the doc said. “And I suggest he not be left alone for the next 48 hours.” He prattled on for a bit, but I was so tired and a bit confused.
    When the doc left, Andrew took my hand and explained. “Mom told them you were her son, and Dad’s your step-father,” he said quietly. “They think we’re brothers.”
    Helen patted my leg. “So he can stay in your room with you.”
    “Oh. Thank you.” My throat scratched again, making me wince. “More water?”
    Andrew stood up and helped me drink from the cup again. Then Allan said, “We’ll give you two a minute.” He ushered Helen and Sarah out the door.
    I sighed deeply with a tiredness I could feel in my bones. Andrew put his hand to my face. “I was really fucking scared, Spencer.”
    I nodded. “Me too.”
    “You stopped breathing, and I thought you were going to die.” He squeezed my hand and shook his head. He was fighting back tears. He leaned in and pressed his lips to mine. “I love you,” he choked out.
    Before I could reply, Lola burst into the room. She was a blur of colour and worry. She stopped dead when she saw me. “Spencer!”
    Gabe followed her in, pale as a sheet. He sat down shakily. He looked up, and by way of explanation, said, “Lola drove.” His eye twitched. “Faster than normal.”
    Lola launched herself at me, hugging what little life I had left in me. Andrew would have normally been knocked backwards, but I still had hold of his hand. I wasn’t letting it go for anyone.
    “You okay?” Lola asked, patting my face and hair. “Andrew phoned me. You trying to give me a heart attack?” She turned to Andrew. “Thank you. How you doing? Thank God you were there to save him.”
    Andrew blushed. “I’m not sure I did much. My dad was the one who stayed calm. I kinda lost my shit.”
    “Not true,” Allan said from the doorway. “Andrew was the one who told me where the EpiPen was.”
    Lola put her hands to my beard and then tried to fix my hair. “Well, you scared us all by the sound of it.”
    Just then, a nurse came in and stopped. “Okay, who needs to be here?”
    “We all do,” Lola answered sweetly. Her pink hair in a fancy twist, perfect