"I'm OK," I said. "Just feeling a bit queasy."
"Let me in," he said, his voice soft.
"I'm OK, Drake," I said. "I'll be out in a minute."
He was silent for a moment. "Are you sure?"
"Yes. I'm fine."
"If you say so, but I am a doctor."
"I know you are. I'm fine."
I stood at the vanity looking in the mirror for a few moments, until I felt in control again. Then I ran the water and splashed it over my face. I let the cool water run over my hands for a few moments, the flow soothing. Then, I smoothed my hair, which was already smooth, and adjusted my clothes and took in a deep breath.
I opened the door and there Drake sat at the end of my bed, his legs spread, his elbows resting on each thigh, his hands clasped. His face was unreadable. Just calm. Patient.
He had to know.
"Why are you in here?" I said, my voice shaky. "You haven't finished lunch yet."
"I was concerned about you. You don't look well."
"I'm fine," I said, walking past him to the door. He grabbed my hand and stopped me, pulling me back so that I stood in front of him, between his legs.
"What is it, Katie?" he said, his voice so gentle, as if he was dealing with a child. "Tell me what's wrong."
"Nothing," I said, forcing a smile, but I could feel tears bite at the corners of my eyes. "I'm just tired and stressed out over everything."
"As long as you're OK," he said. He brushed my hair back from my face, touched my cheek with the backs of his fingers, and the gesture was so sweet and loving, I felt my heart melt for him.
"Drake, we really need to talk," I said, feeling a desperate need to confess.
"Shh," he said, kissing me. "We'll talk later. I love you, Kate."
"I love you," I said and couldn't stop from slipping my arms around his neck, kissing him. His arms went around my waist and he pulled me tightly against his chest as he kissed me back, softly at first, then with more urgency. When the kiss ended, I rested my forehead against his and enjoyed the feel of his arms around me.
It was in each other's arms that my father found us when he popped his head into my room.
"Hey, you two lovebirds," he said, his gravelly voice filled with humor. "Your food's getting cold."
Drake looked up at me and smiled. "What do you say we go back and have lunch now that it's settled?"
"What's settled?" I asked, frowning a bit.
"That we love each other," he said, a grin starting on his lips, an impish look in his eyes.
I nodded and smiled back. "Sounds like a plan."
He rose and took my hand, pulling me along with him out of the bedroom and down the hall following my father. When we were seated again, Elaine brought Drake's and my plate back after heating the pasta up in the microwave.
"Feeling better?" she said as she sat back down.
I nodded. Drake took my hand under the table and squeezed. I turned to look at him, and his face was so calm and gentle. Did he know? Was he hurt that I hadn’t told him? Was he worried that I was somehow still attracted to Kurt?
I thought he'd be really angry. He said he was very jealous and so I expected that he'd get really mad and want to punish me.
Finally, he turned back to his pasta and took a forkful. I turned back to mine and together, we ate while holding hands.