"He... who?" I was sliding into a slow realization. The faint pings. The white walls. The IV. The pain. “Am I in the hospital?"
* * *
"A car hit you, baby." She reached behind my head, made an adjustment to the pillow that I hadn't known I needed, and I sighed as the pressure on my neck eased. "You're pretty banged up."
"A car...?" Everything was still sliding around in my head, searching for a place to settle. Liam's party. The lights. They'd been moving so fast... like a streak of lightning in the dark. Too quick for me to feel any fright. But now the fear caught up with me. "It hit me?" My voice caught, choking me and irritating my already sore throat. "Someone ran me over? Who...?"
Her smiled dimmed. "The police are working hard to figure that out, honey." She leaned in. "I was watching the six o'clock news last night and saw that Jim Crowthers himself made a plea for people to come forward."
I swallowed as I heard this, fear giving way to anger. Jim Crowthers was the chief of police. I narrowed my eyes, but she was smiling brightly again. "But that's for them to worry about, you hear me? You focus on getting better. That man of yours will take care of everything else, I'm pretty sure of it." She gave me a "just-us-girls" wink.
"Man?"
"Oh honey, you don't know!" Her girlish giggle was at odds with her no-nonsense appearance. Until I looked harder and saw that the swirling patterns on her scrubs that I'd mistaken for paisleys were actually Disney characters. The princesses, to be exact. She let out a sigh just like Cinderella waiting for her prince to come. "He hasn't left your side this whole time." She fluffed my pillow again, leaning close enough for me to read the ID card that swung from a lanyard on her neck. "Chrissi Samuels" it read. Not Christine or Christina. Tiny heart stickers had been carefully affixed to the dots over the i's. "Your fiancé is a good man, you know." She stepped back and stared at me earnestly. "Probably the last good one out there, believe me. I've kissed a lot of frogs!"
She laughed loud enough for the both of us. I forced a smile, playing along, but inside I was a swirl of confusion. "Fiancé?" The last syllable was caught in a panicked squeak. What the hell? I'd been hit by a car. Did it knock me into another dimension? "What are you talking about?"
* * *
The door creaked open. Chrissi's smile widened even more. "There he is!" she squealed. Then raised her voice. "Hey there lover boy! Look who just woke up!"
He was looking down at his phone as he walked in, but at the sound of Chrissi's voice, he snapped his head up. And caught my eye.
And stared.
I stared back. "Cooper?"
A faint memory, lighter than air, floated through my hazy brain. I’d seen him. Before. When I was hurting so bad that my only escape was sleep. I had a flash of motion - the inside of an ambulance - and Cooper watching over me, his face crumpled with worry. And with the logic of dreams, I'd accepted his presence, only questioning it on instinct. Because... for a second I'd felt something... else, for Cooper Grant. Something big and... strange.
Then the memory slipped through my fingers and was gone. "Why the hell is she calling you my -"
"How do you feel?" he interrupted, swiftly stepping around to the side of my bed. "Jesus, you scared us, Willa."
I stared up at him, completely at a loss. Cooper Grant was looking at me right now. His face was familiar, but the expression he wore - one of concern? for me? - was not. Without his usual scowl of contempt he looked...
I dragged my eyes up to his and was startled by how blue they were up close. The scar that bisected his left eyebrow, the one that had always made him look like he was skeptical of what you were saying, was a thin line of silvery white, almost delicate looking from this angle. I had the strangest urge to stroke it and ask him if it still hurt, but I resisted and managed to break eye contact, only for my gaze to land on his arm and the way it was bent as he gripped the side rail of my bed. The faded blue T-shirt sleeve could barely contain the bicep that popped up as he inadvertently flexed. I'd never inspected him this closely before. And upon close inspection he was...
Well, he was fucking handsome. And that was really annoying because I wanted to be angry. Why the hell was Chrissi calling him my fiancé? What the fuck was going on? "I feel like you should start explaining," I said, as crisply as my bruised throat would allow.
Cooper's ridiculously blue eyes flickered in the direction of the door. "I don't quite know where to start," he hedged.
"Honey, he saved your life!" Chrissi was right there, eavesdropping with her hands clasped to her heart. "All of the nurses, I'm telling you, we can't get over it. It's like something right out of a movie!"
"What?" I looked up at Cooper. He was looking down and away, guilt written all over his face. Why?
This was more than I could process. My thoughts glanced down lightly on the idea that I owed my life to a man I hated and then skipped right over it. It was too much to consider feeling gratitude to Cooper. I shook my head without meaning to, and as I did, the pain rattled my head. I latched onto it gratefully, eager to feel anything - even this searing pain - other than gratitude. A surge of hot anger dulled the pain long enough for me to demand, "You did what?"
"A car hit you." He still wouldn't look at me, which made me feel even more desperately uneasy. He should have been staring daggers at me, like always, but his gaze was fixed on his fingers which now gripped the bedrail so tightly his knuckles were white. "I was on my way home..."
"Looking for you!" Chrissi moved right up next to Cooper now and was staring at him with undisguised lust. "He went out looking for you after your fight, because he wasn't going to let you go to bed angry."
What? I mouthed to Cooper, who just shook his head and stared downward.
"And he called the ambulance, he insisted on riding with them so he could keep an eye on you." Cooper's knuckles were bloodless now, but Chrissi was starry-eyed, swept up in the story she was telling. "I just love that part, you know? Just hopped right up there into the back of the ambulance, like nope, I'm going to take care of my woman." She blinked out of her reverie to catch both Cooper and me staring at her.
I swallowed. "Cooper?"
"Like I said, I don't quite know where to start." He looked up at Chrissi, who was still standing there expectantly. "You think... you think maybe I can talk with her alone?"
She startled. "Oh! Oh!" Clapping her hand over her mouth, she backed up with her eyes comically wide. “I’m so sorry, of course. You two need to have your reunion!" She lowered her chin and waggled her eyebrows. "I'll make sure you're not... disturbed."
"What the fu-?"
Cooper clapped his hand over my mouth before I could unleash a torrent of curses. "Thank you," he said, his voice dripping with innuendo that Chrissi caught and lapped up like a cat with a bowl of milk.
"Of course." She backed out of the door, but couldn't resist one more peek. She aimed one more "just-us-girls" wink in my direction and then was gone.
I exhaled sharply. It hurt. My left side was tight and hot, and every time I took a breath, I felt a stabbing pain. Gritting my teeth, I inhaled slowly and tried to lift my left hand.
"Careful," Cooper warned.
I winced. "My arm's broken, right?" I'd never broken a bone before, but it seemed pretty clear that was what happened.
"Two cracked ribs, two broken ones, a broken arm and one hell of a gash on your forehead." He smiled sheepishly and then pulled out his phone and switched the camera to reverse. "Here."
"Shit." I sucked in a shocked breath to see myself and then winced again when my ribs stabbed me. "How did that happen?" I lifted my IV-tethered, yet thankfully unbroken right hand to brush gingerly at the diagonal gash across my forehead.
"They think maybe the side mirror?" Cooper closed his eyes, which made me oddly grateful. It was easier to process what had happened to me without his blue eyes boring into me. He took a deep breath and then started reciting in one long breath, like he was afraid if he didn't keep talking he would never reac
h the end of what needed to be said. "You weren't hit head-on, that's what they told me anyway. You were on the shoulder so the car, whoever it was, only clipped you. On the passenger side, probably the front bumper. They're thinking that spun you around and then the side mirror knocked you flat." He blinked. "And out."
He fell silent. The machines pinged. My ribs ached. I blinked back the tears that had no business gathering there and tried to put my mind back in order. The mix of pain and painkillers was making it hard to focus. So far it sounded like he was telling the truth, but I couldn't help but notice he was leaving an important detail out. "Cooper."
"I know."
"Cooper?"
He was silent.
"Then what, Cooper?" I prompted. “What’s the part you’re leaving out?”
“God! Will you stop asking questions for just a goddamned second?” He glared down at me and for a moment it was like it always was. Me being a snot to him. Him being a dick to me.
Then he dragged his hand down his face again and the usual contempt for me was gone. He just looked... worried.
I felt the strangest need to reach out and comfort him.
"You were hit." His blue eyes flicked back up and held mine. "And I found you. That was true."
"Jesus." My heart stuttered in my chest. "You really found me?" I was having a hard time wrapping my mind around that. I tried for humor. "Surprised you didn't leave me lying on the side of the road."
"Oh fuck off, Willa," he growled.
"Not in the mood to joke?"
"Why the hell are you trying to even joke about it in the first place?"
"I'm just trying to make it easier."
"Jesus, will you stop that?" He was suddenly, irrationally angry. "You're always the martyr, aren't you? 'Oh don't worry about little ole me!'" His voice was high and trilling, a terrible imitation that barely sounded like my alto. I scowled at him and he threw up his hands. "Well, your martyr shit nearly got you killed!"
"What?" I squirmed. Yelling hurt my throat. This was the Cooper I was used to. A dick who yelled at you while you laid there helpless in a hospital bed. "What the hell are you talking about?"
"You should have gotten a fucking ride with me!" he exploded. Then clamped his mouth shut. White-faced, he turned away. I couldn't see his face, but I could see his shoulders rising and falling as he took great, gulping breaths.
I was doing the same damn thing.
Was he blaming himself? "I didn't want a ride with you," I reminded him. "And you definitely didn't want to give me a ride, so..."
"You're a pain in the ass," he growled, still looking in the opposite direction.
I fell silent and looked down at my plastered arm. This was Cooper. I'd known him forever. I'd never liked him, and after the fallout with Liam, he really didn't like me. That was a known fact, something almost comforting about its consistency. He was the one person in my group of friends that I could just dismiss entirely. Because there was no reason to worry about Cooper Grant. Nothing ever worried him, nothing ever bothered him. The normal shit life threw at you just bounced right off of him, without even leaving a dent. Cooper was a big fish in a small pond and he liked it that way. He'd been a football star in high school, and his dad owned half the town. He was comfortable here in a way I never could be. And that made it easy. He was someone I didn't have to worry about too much.
But right now, I was worried.
Worried that I'd hurt him.
Which was stupid because I was the one who was hurt. But I couldn't help it. That was my way. It was almost an instinct. "Let's start over again," I whispered. "At the beginning."
He stiffened. Without turning, he spoke up. "I was heading home from dropping off Liam. I was just passing Ed Cutter’s place when I saw something on the side of the road." He closed his eyes.
“Me.”
“Thought you were roadkill.” I winced and so did he. His voice thickened. “I almost drove past. But something stopped me.”
Goosebumps raised along my arm as what he was saying finally sank in. "So you... you really did save my life?"
"I guess.” He turned back and dragged his hand down his face again. “Yeah. I guess I did."
I lay still as the realization slowly dawned. He’d saved me. Cooper. I owed my life to Cooper Grant. The weight of it settled down like a heavy blanket over me and I had no idea what to say. “Thank you?”
Cooper blinked. I knew he was probably thinking the same thing I was. That this was the first time I had ever said those words to him... ever. He nodded, and his mouth formed the shape of the words first like he was testing them, before he gruffly said, “You’re welcome,” before turning away again.
It was the first time he’d ever said those words to me.
But there was still one more thing. “Cooper?"
"What?"
"Why was that nurse calling you my fiancé?"
He spun around, his expression a mix of sheepishness and panic. "Oh, that's, uh...” He licked his lips and looked down. “That got a bit out of control."
There was a noise in the hallway, but I ignored it. "What did?" I pressed.
The moment the words left my lips, the door banged open.
"Jesus!" shouted Claire, as she, Ruby, Sadie, Avery, and Livvy all crowded into the room. Shouts from the hallway told me that Ryan, Naomi, and Ethan were still out there. “Oh my God, Willa!”
Heat rose to my cheeks, equal parts pleasure at seeing my friends and embarrassment. “I’m okay.”
“Yeah, well, good, but...” Claire looked at Cooper and then me again. "What the hell is this? You're engaged?"
* * *
Chapter
Chapter Seven
Cooper
Shit.
Shit.
Visiting hours had just started and our friends had shown up in a veritable army, drowning out the noises of the nurse who was yelling at them to give me and Willa some time alone. Finally, Chrissi just stuck her head in, looking apologetic. And a little let down to see that Willa and I were still clothed.. "I tried to stop them. Do you want me to call security?"
"No!" Willa and I chorused at the same time. I glanced down at her and she looked up and met my eye with a cool expression.
Oh. Right. I was just about to explain the engaged thing to her. I still needed to explain the engaged thing to her. When her mother left late last night - or rather, early this morning when Willa had been wheeled out of surgery - I'd thought I'd have some time to catch my breath. The quiet of her hospital room, the regular sip of her breathing as she drifted in sedated sleep... I could keep an eye on her, I'd thought - while also buying myself some time to figure out how to fix this. All of this.
I wasn't used to feeling guilty. Regret wasn't my thing. And now I knew why.
It sucked.
If only you'd given her a fucking ride, you piece of shit.
You promised.
No.
No shut up. I can fix it. I just need to think. I just need quiet, so I can think.
But she wasn't in a peacefully drugged state when I walked back in the room. Far from it. And instead of being able to wrap my head around this, I felt like I'd wrapped a noose around my neck. And each passing second had it pulling tighter.
Fuck. One panicked, guilty lie had somehow snowballed to this. I held up my hands, ready to finally put a stop to it. "Guys, listen..." No one seemed to hear me, so I cleared my throat to say it again...
And then caught myself when I saw Chrissi still watching us like a matchmaking hawk.
Chrissi, the world's most overinvolved nurse, seemed personally invested in the success of our fake engagement. If she found out I lied, she'd probably hate me. And definitely tell everyone what a no-good, rotten liar I was.
Including, shit, the EMTs who brought us in. And oh God, double shit, the detective who'd interviewed me.
Shit, can you get prosecuted for lying to ambulance drivers? For falsifying an engagement to a police officer? Was I about to go to
prison for all this?
My hands fell back down to my sides. Shit. I was going to have to keep up the charade. At least until Willa got out of the hospital. Possibly even longer.
I swallowed and stared at my friends. You can tell them after, I reasoned. Some night a few weeks from now when we're all at the Crown Tavern. It'll be funny by then. A funny story to tell over a few beers, nothing more. I just... have to hold on until then.
By now, Claire had claimed a space by Willa's bedside right by her head. "You're engaged?" she shrieked at the top of her lungs. "I thought you hated him!"
Hated me? Ouch. That definitely stung more than I expected, except... to be fair, I'd definitely not gone out of my way to hide my opinion of Willa over the years. Still, my feelings were pretty justified.
What reason would she have to hate me though? I turned to watch Willa, who looked thoroughly shell-shocked.
But Avery burst out laughing. "Oh my God, everything makes sense now!" She tossed her hair and stabbed a finger in my direction. "Guys, we're not in middle school anymore. You could have told us you were dating, we wouldn't have teased you." She paused. "Too much," she amended.
"Pretending to hate each other to hide your illicit love affair!" Ruby pretended to swoon. "Like something out of a Jane Austen novel or something."
Ryan raised his voice from the doorway. "I always thought it was kind of ridiculous, you know? The way you two sniped at each other, like a couple of hissing cats."
"Yeah seriously," Naomi agreed. “Completely over the top."
It was like watching a train wreck in slow motion. Our friends shrieking excitement over the "engagement" was one thing, but having to hear about how perfectly matched we were? Willa... and me? That was insanity.
And there was nothing I could do to stop it.
I glanced at Willa who looked like she wanted the earth to open up and swallow her whole. I would have gladly flung myself in after her.
"About time you two just got your love out in the open..."
Last Good Man (A Crown Creek Standalone) Page 4