by Meghan March
She has no clue, but I don’t mind letting her think she does.
“Thank you for understanding.”
The nurse’s chin goes up. “I wouldn’t say I understand, but I know what a man looks like when he’s falling for someone.”
I freeze, unsure of what to say to her.
“Let me give you some unsolicited advice, young man. Take damn good care of her. She won’t want to admit she needs help, but she will.”
“That’s absolutely my plan, ma’am. Thank you.”
“Good. Also, if you try anything weird, I’ll have security drag you out.”
“I just don’t want her to wake up alone,” I say honestly.
“Not just falling . . . you’re already in love. That’s cute.” She shakes her head and walks out the door before I can pick my jaw up off the floor.
What the fuck did she say? “You’re already in love. That’s cute?”
I stare at the door, like I expect her to walk back in and explain herself, but I’m left in the dark with new questions weighing on my mind.
Does Scarlett always have to deal with people thinking they know more about her personal life than she does? Is this something I’ll have to get used to? And even more so—
What am I going to do now?
Seventeen
Scarlett
When I wake up, Flynn is slumped in the chair next to my bed, wearing her leather pants, leather jacket, and her hair is back in a tight braid. Instantly, a caption for the sight pops into my head. Innocent Badass. I take a mental picture for my files before reaching out for the water to soothe my parched throat.
As soon as I move, her eyes flick open.
“You’re awake!”
“And you look like you left, raced cars, and sneaked back in without me being the wiser . . . except your black leather look is giving you away.”
Flynn tilts her head to the side with a sleepy smile. “Don’t worry, you weren’t alone for a single second.”
I blink at her in confusion. “Did you pay a nurse to sit with me all night? You know they have other patients to deal with, so they really shouldn’t do that.”
Her smile turns smug. “No, of course not. Legend stayed with you. I doubt he fell asleep on the job either, unlike me.”
My entire body jerks forward, and thankfully, the twinges of yesterday aren’t as intense today. “Gabriel came back? How? What? Why?”
“Hey, whoa. Chill out. No sudden movements, remember? Relax.”
I scan the room, searching for traces of him. “You just told me someone watched me sleep without my knowledge, so chilling out isn’t really on the agenda for this morning, Flynn. What the hell?”
She rolls her eyes, and I’m reminded that she is, indeed, twenty years old. “You didn’t even know, and if I hadn’t told you, you wouldn’t be freaking out right now, so chill out. Be happy I told you. Be happy he was all gung ho for the job and would’ve stayed around the clock if I hadn’t told him I had it covered.”
Two weeks ago, he told me to go, and it crushed me. Now . . . I’m terrified to believe what’s happening. But his words from last night are still fresh in my mind, and my heart.
“I wish I could take it all back . . . You probably don’t believe me and you shouldn’t. Words aren’t enough. I know that, but I’ll show you.”
“He told me he’d show me,” I whisper.
Flynn leans closer to me. “What?”
“Gabriel said he wished he could take back what he did. That words weren’t enough. That he’d have to show me.”
Flynn slaps a hand over her chest in the vicinity of her heart. “That’s so fucking sweet. Oh my God. I totally made the right call.”
“I still can’t believe you did that.”
She shrugs. “It was a calculated risk, and I had nothing to lose. If he didn’t care, I was never going to tell you, but since he did care very, very much, now we’re in a completely different situation.” She pauses and pitches forward to check the door. “By the way, the nurse said earlier that they’ll check you out this morning and assess your progress. If you’re doing well, there’s a chance you could be going home this afternoon.”
“Knock-knock . . .” Harlow’s voice comes out a whisper from the hallway. “Is anyone—”
“She’s awake. Come on in,” Flynn calls out.
Harlow slips inside, shutting the door behind her with a giant vase of wildflowers.
“Oh, thank God! You’re okay!” She drops the vase on a ledge with a thump and rushes toward me. “I was so worried about you! I’m sorry I couldn’t be here last night. Jimmy had a meeting with a client in Vegas, so we hopped on a jet and swung out for dinner, and didn’t get home until six a.m. I haven’t even been to sleep yet.” Harlow covers the yawn escaping her lips as she leans down to gently hug me.
“Thank you for coming. It means a lot to me.”
“Of course I came as quick as I could. And I didn’t bring roses. That’s what being a best friend is all about.”
I laugh, carefully, and lean back in my hospital bed. “As you can see, I’m fine. I’ll be going home later today.”
“And Legend took the night shift and watched Scarlett sleep.”
Harlow’s eyes go wide. “What? He was here?”
Flynn catches her up quickly, summarizing how she scared the hell out of him and got him to the hospital, and how he apologized to me and told me he’d show me he was serious.
Harlow’s eyes are filled with tears when Flynn finishes. “I’ve never been so happy for anyone to need their appendix removed ever! He just needed the fear of God in him. Monroe is going to freak out. I have to text her. She’s at an away game with Nate.”
“She went to an away game?” I ask, my tone bordering on shocked. “She hates leaving the city for anything to do with the team or baseball.”
Harlow’s face creases into a weird mask that tells me immediately that something’s wrong.
“What is it? What happened? Is Monroe okay?”
Harlow glances at Flynn and then me. “Double vault?”
“Absolutely,” I say, then quickly explain the double-vault concept to Flynn.
Harlow waits for Flynn to nod her agreement before she continues. “Monroe thinks he’s cheating. She’s trying to catch him.”
My head plops back on the pillow. “Hell.”
“Shit,” Flynn whispers. “Really? That’s a bummer.”
I turn to Flynn and Harlow. “This isn’t the first time. This is also not the first time Monroe could be totally and completely wrong about Nate cheating. Remember when she barged into that restaurant where he was having a meeting with Jimmy, thinking he was with a woman?”
“God, it would’ve been funny if it weren’t so sad. I don’t know how Nate’s going to take it either. He’s about at the end of the line when it comes to trying to get Monroe to trust him.”
We need to talk some sense into Monroe before this gets out of hand. “We’ll talk to her this week. Try to get her to see reason.”
A line forms between Harlow’s brows. “If that’ll even work. I don’t know. So, what do they serve for breakfast in this joint, or are we ordering in?”
Flynn gives her a wry glance. “Oh, we’re definitely ordering in, and you’re paying.”
All through breakfast and then lunch, I kept stamping out the tiny ray of hope that continued to grow in my chest that my dad would come walking through the hospital room door with a balloon and a teddy bear, like he did when I had my tonsils out when I was seven. The memory is hazy, but it happened. So what if he didn’t stay very long, and he and my mom were arguing by the time he left? He still came.
Scraps. That’s what I’m willing to take from my father, and I’m not too proud to admit it.
But he doesn’t show up. He doesn’t even call or text. Nothing. Not a single attempt to check on his only child after surgery. The hole in my heart gapes, but I pretend I don’t care and paste a smile on my face to greet the surgeon who stops
in to check on me.
And when the doctor exits the room, after pronouncing me free to leave after I’m discharged, I can’t wait to get the hell out of the hospital and away from the proof that my father doesn’t give a single damn about me.
“Can you go track down the nurse with the paperwork? I want to get out of here before they come up with a reason to keep me.”
Amy and Kelsey, who arrived when Harlow and Flynn had to leave, both look at me strangely.
“Are we in a hurry?” Kelsey asks.
“I just want to shower, put on my clothes, climb into my own bed, and sleep for a day.”
“No problem, boss,” Amy says with a smile. “I’ll go find the nurse right now and see where she is on the discharge paperwork. We’ll be out of here before you know it.”
When Amy disappears in search of the nurse, Kelsey sits on the edge of my bed.
“Is something wrong?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know why I keep expecting him to care. He’s proven over and over that he doesn’t.”
“Legend?” Her brow creases in confusion. “But he was here all night.”
“No, my dad.”
Realization hits. “Oh God. I’m so sorry, Scarlett. I can’t believe . . .” Kelsey trails off, but she doesn’t need to finish the sentence. And because of the history between my father and me, I’m certain she can, in fact, believe he doesn’t care.
“It’s fine. Let’s talk about something else.”
A thrill flares in her dark eyes. “Like Gabriel Legend? Because I can’t get over the fact that he waited with us, took our very passive-aggressive verbal lashings, and wouldn’t budge because he’s so hung up on you.”
Skeptical, I let my head fall to the side. “Or he feels guilty.”
“Shut up, Scar. You know that’s bullshit.”
I smile ruefully. “Okay, so maybe he likes me a little.” I glance down at the area where they cut me open. “Not that there’s anything I can do about it right now.”
“Well, you can’t really bang him, that’s true. But there’s no reason he can’t just get on his knees and apologize with his face in your pussy.”
“Kelsey Pak!”
She shrugs with a laugh. “Don’t you first-and-last-name me. It’s a great idea, and you know it.”
Eighteen
Scarlett
Later that afternoon, I put down my phone after replying to the group text between me, Ryan, and Christine. They wanted to make sure I was feeling okay and got the gift basket they sent. At least they care.
Flynn gives me a hug and a kiss on the cheek before she has to leave. “I can skip class if you want me to.”
“What? No. There’s no reason for that. I’ll be fine. I’m an adult, and I can get myself home without an entourage. Actually, it’s probably better if we keep it low key.”
“If you’re sure,” Flynn replies, uncertainty wrinkling her forehead. “Because it’s just a night class that I need for credits. I don’t actually care about the subject matter.”
“Go, Flynn. Thank you for being here as much as you have been. It means a lot to me.” I squeeze her hand one last time before releasing it—and her—from my hospital room.
“Good thing you’ve only got one appendix, because I’m in no hurry to do this again, and I’m sure you’re not either.”
Actually, I’m just glad the worst is over, and the pain is gone. She’s right. I never want to go through that kind of torture again.
From the corner, Amy smiles at Flynn’s sweet statement. “’Bye, Flynn,” she says as my former stepsister slips out of the room, leaving the two of us alone.
I smile at Amy, who has been amazing in every way, but she has to leave for her niece’s first birthday party by five, which I’ve forbidden her from missing.
And then I’ll be all alone.
I silently scold myself, hating that sadness is creeping in.
It doesn’t matter. It’s basically like checking out of a hotel. Why would I need a whole crew of family and friends around me while I’m getting discharged from the hospital? I don’t.
And yet, here I am, ragged over the fact that the only person who is still here with me is on my payroll. Kelsey had clients she couldn’t reschedule on such short notice, and Harlow and Monroe both had commitments.
Stop it, Scarlett. Save the pity party for when you get home, and no one can see you fall apart because your dad couldn’t manage to tear himself away from his busy schedule to see how his daughter’s emergency surgery went. Your mom wouldn’t have missed it. You know that.
I paste a bright smile on my face and look to Amy. “Should I ring the nurse to make sure the paperwork is coming?”
She moves toward the door. “She said it was almost done. Let me see where she’s at. We’ll have you out of here in no time.”
Thankfully, true to her word, Amy has a young man rolling my hospital-mandated wheelchair out of the building fifteen minutes later.
“That’s us,” Amy says, pointing at a black SUV.
They load up the flowers and baskets and balloons from the girls in the back, and I’m champing at the bit to get out of this wheelchair, when I spot a man in a T-shirt walking up the sidewalk. His head is down and his dark blond hair hangs over his face, but I don’t need to see his features to know who he is. The very tingly shivers racing down my spine tell me everything I need to know.
Amy doesn’t see him, and to be honest, she fades into the background as soon as he looks up and I meet his vivid blue gaze. One corner of his mouth tugs upward in an almost-smile, and my heart stutters. I take a mental snapshot and instantly caption it When He Sees Me.
That half smile is everything.
Tossing away the mental trappings of the pity party I was getting ready to throw, I try not to shiver as excitement fills me instead.
Gabriel stops in front of me, and I can’t look away. I’m not even sure I’m breathing.
“Hey,” he says, his voice rough, like he hasn’t used it since he saw me last.
“Hey,” I reply, mostly because I’m held captive by those eyes, and I don’t care how cheesy that sounds. It’s the truth.
In the bright light of day, Gabriel Legend isn’t just a man, he’s a masterpiece. Sun glints off the gold in his hair, making the dark streaks shine like freshly polished teak. His skin is tanned and his jawline is covered in delicious scruff.
Damn, he is one fine specimen of a man.
“Thanks for coming to see me again,” I say with a careful smile. “But I’m getting out, so you’re off the hook.”
His brows dip together like my statement doesn’t make sense. I’m still on painkillers, so I could be the confused one. Am I confused?
“I know. Flynn told me you were getting sprung.”
I blink at him. “So . . .” I stop speaking when I realize there’s a duffel bag hanging over his shoulder.
He follows my eyes to the bag, and our gazes collide once more. “She didn’t tell you.” It’s a statement, not a question.
“What was she supposed to tell me?” I ask, but Amy bustles toward me.
“Oh, Mr. Legend. I didn’t know you were coming,” she says with a smile.
“Flynn was supposed to tell you that I’m coming to help out.”
“Getting Ms. Priest home?” Amy asks, tilting her head to the side.
Gabriel’s attention cuts back to me. “I’m going home with you. Flynn and I worked out a schedule between us and your other friends. You won’t be alone this week. Although you may want to be by the time it’s Monroe Grafton’s turn.”
All I can do is blink. Words that I’m fairly certain I’ve spoken before swirl in my brain in incoherent patterns, and all I can think is—Gabriel is coming to stay at my apartment with me to take care of me? This has to be an alternate reality.
When neither Amy nor I reply, Gabriel’s entire body goes eerily still. “Unless you don’t want me to stay. I’ll understand.”
My chest might as well
crack open and spill my heart out right on the sidewalk. The sound of him saying “Unless you don’t want me to stay. I’ll understand” almost slays me right there.
Something burns behind my eyes, but I’m not even going to think about it. Instead, I hold out a hand. “I would love to get out of this wheelchair.”
“As you wish,” he murmurs, and my heart flutters because I’m 99.9 percent sure he has no idea that’s a line from The Princess Bride designed to make all Wesley and Princess Buttercup fans—including me—melt instantly.
Except I woefully underestimated what being appropriately prepared for this means, because Gabriel doesn’t just slide his calloused hand across mine and squeeze. No. He leans down to lift me completely out of the wheelchair and into his arms.
The feelings of zero gravity and utter shock have me leaning close to the hard strength of his body. God, he’s solid as a rock. And warm. I want to curl into his heat and soak it up, even though it’s not remotely cold outside.
Because it’s not the heat, Scar. It’s the feeling of a real man. The voice in my head is two steps ahead of me, because she hits the nail on the head.
Neither Chadwick nor any of my past boyfriends would just saunter up and lift me like I weighed no more than a bag of feathers. In fact, none of them ever picked me up at all. Not even to carry me off to bed. Not once.
Wow. That’s depressing.
Gabriel slides me into the back seat of the SUV while Amy and the driver watch, and once I’m carefully buckled up with my belly cushion pressed to my midsection, he steps back.
Amy has a look on her face that I can’t quite decipher. It’s almost like she’s trying to hold back a smile but is also gathering courage. I snap my brain back into thinking mode and guess why she looks like she’s prepping for an unpleasant conversation. The birthday party.
I don’t know what time it is right this second, but I can guess. If Amy comes back to Curated with us and spends time helping me get settled, she’ll be super late.