When Forever Changes

by Siobhan Davis

  “I was there too,” Slate agrees, sliding his arm over my shoulder. “And I can confirm it’s true. There’s no male or female on this Earth more dramatic than this dude right here.” He pokes a finger in Ryan’s chest.

  Myndi wraps her arms around Ryan. “I love your drama-llama,” she says, like a bona-fide suck-up, stretching up to kiss him.

  “Lucky you found the only girl on the planet happy to put up with your shit,” Slate teases, as we walk up the steps to the house.

  “I’m one in a million, and my girl knows she landed the catch of the century.” Ryan flips Slater the bird.

  “Glad to see your ego is still astronomical, little big bro.”

  “Nothing would punt a dent in that ego,” Dean says, materializing in the doorway. “And there’s nothing wrong with a hefty dose of self-confidence.” He reaches out, grabbing Ryan into a hug. “Good to see you, man.”

  Dean looks like shit. His skin is pale, his chin unshaven, and bruising shadows darken the skin under his bloodshot eyes. His shirt is so crumpled I’m guessing he probably slept in it. I shuck out of Slater’s arm and hug my older brother. “How are you?”

  He circles his arm around me, walking toward the kitchen. “I’ve been better, but I’m holding it together.”

  “What happened?”

  His entire body is rigid against me. “Annie kicked me out, and she took the girls to her mom’s today. She’s refusing to answer any of my calls. I think I’ll have no choice but to start legal proceedings. She’s not going to keep me from my daughters.”

  I squeeze his side. “I’m sure she won’t do that. She’s just hurting right now.”

  He presses a kiss to the top of my head. “I hope you’re right, but these things have a habit of turning nasty.”

  As a junior attorney in the same firm as our dad, Dean has handled several divorce proceedings on behalf of clients, so he knows what he’s talking about.

  He stops me at the door to the kitchen, holding me at arm’s length. Ryan and Myndi have gone upstairs to dump their bags, so it’s only Dean, Slater, and me in the hall. Dean glances at Slater, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly. “Considering my sister never came home last night, and she currently reeks of sex, I’m guessing we need to have a conversation.”

  My eyes go out on stalks. “Oh my God!” I slap his chest. “Stop embarrassing me!” I hiss. “I’m a grown woman, and I don’t need your permission or approval to have sex.”

  “Relax, Gabs.” He turns me around, giving me a gently nudge. “Go shower before Mom and Dad notice. I promise I won’t hurt him.” He cocks his head to the side, fighting a smirk. “Well, not too much.”

  “It’s cool, Belle.” Slater wraps his hand around the back of my head. “Take a shower while I talk to your overbearing big brother.” He pecks my lips briefly. “But don’t take too long.” He swats my ass as I walk away, and I don’t know whether he’s incredibly brave or ridiculously stupid to taunt Dean like that.

  When I arrive back downstairs a half hour later, freshly showered and changed, I’m grateful to find things relatively peaceful. I pop my head in the game room first, strolling to Slater’s side and examining his face. “What?” he asks.

  “Just checking for any signs of injury.” My eyes trek up and down his body, and my tongue darts out, wetting my lips as heat coils low in my belly. Hot damn. Slater is the definition of sex on a stick, and it’s going to take colossal effort to keep my hands off him today.

  “Keep looking at him like that, Tornado, and I’ll have no choice but to inflict bodily harm,” Ryan says, lining up his pool cue to take his shot.

  “Bite me.”

  “Don’t fucking tempt me.”

  “Leave them alone,” Dad says, trying, and failing, to smother his delight when Ryan messes up his shot. “Any guy who puts that kinda smile on my Buttercup’s face gets my seal of approval.”

  “Thank you, Daddy!” I blow him a kiss.

  “But all bets are off if you do anything to wipe it off again,” Dad warns, sending Slater a look Dirty Harry would be proud of.

  “Jeez, tough crowd,” Slater mumbles, only half-joking.

  “Ignore them,” I say, wrapping myself around him. “I plan to.” I smile up at him, and my heart soars when he pins me with that same adoring look from earlier. Someone, Ryan, I think, makes a gagging sound, but we don’t pay him any attention. Slater encircles his arms around me, and my entire body relaxes against his embrace. Butterflies scatter in my chest, and a fluttery feeling lands in my stomach as we continue looking at one another. It’s as if we’re the only two people in the world, and we’re all each other needs. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt this kind of feeling, and it’s both new and familiar at the same time, and it fills me with warmth and joy.

  “I love you,” he says, not even attempting to lower his voice for the audience. He gets extra brownie points for his confidence.

  “I love you too,” I reply, equally assured, stretching on my tiptoes to kiss him. We don’t prolong it—no sense in pushing all the overprotective men in the room to breaking point—but I practically float on air as I walk out of the room. From the corner of my eye, I spot my brothers and my dad smiling, and it pleases me no end to know we have their approval even if they’re hellbent on making Slater work for it.

  I join Myndi and Mom in the kitchen, and we sing along to the radio as we prepare our Thanksgiving dinner. When I confirm Slater and I are now together, Mom draws me into the biggest hug, whispering she hopes I’m happy and that she wishes us the best. Myndi is already busy planning tons of double dates, and I’m on cloud nine as I move into the formal dining room to set the table.

  Strong arms slip around my waist from behind, and a contented sigh leaks from my lips. “Missed you,” Slater whispers, nudging my hair aside so he can plant a kiss on my neck. A shiver coasts along my spine, and I feel his kiss all the way to the tips of my toes.

  “What the hell did I miss?” Caleb asks from the open doorway, with an amused grin on his face.

  We both lift our heads up. “I’ve already been subjected to the Spanish Inquisition,” Slater drawls, keeping a firm hold on me. “Ask your dad and your brothers to fill you in.”

  “Ah, it’s like that.” Caleb’s face brightens. “You’ve got bigger balls than me, dude.”

  “I happen to think your sister is worth it, so bring it. I can handle it.”

  Caleb steps toward us, grabbing Slate into a man-hug. “It’s about time you made a move. Good for you.”

  Terri comes into the room, practically glowing. “What’s going on?”

  “Slate and Gabby finally got their act together,” Caleb tells his fiancée, pulling me into a hug. “I’m happy for you,” he whispers in my ear. “But if he hurts you, I’ll string him up by his balls.”

  My laughter is muffled against his chest. “You’ll have to beat Ryan to it. He’s promised to feed his balls to the piranhas.”

  “Congrats, guys. That’s great news,” Terri says, nudging Caleb out of the way so she can hug me.

  Dinner is a rather boisterous affair, as usual, with everyone trying to talk over everyone else and tons of ribbing and teasing, but there’s a dark cloud hovering over the occasion with the notable absence of Annie and the girls. Dean is trying his best to enter the spirit of things, but I notice he only toys with his food while he’s knocking back the whiskeys like they’re going out of fashion. But no one calls him out on it, because we can tell how much he’s suffering.

  Slater and I hold hands under the table every chance we get, and I’m as giddy as a teenager in the first flush of love. He’s constantly sneaking sly glances at me, and I’m as bad. I’m sure we look like a pair of lovesick teenagers, but I honestly couldn’t care less. I love the way Slater makes me feel, and I still can’t get over the fact I’ve fallen for my brother’s best friend, one of my best fr
iends, a guy who has always been there right under my nose if I’d only bothered to look.

  I don’t miss the looks we’re picking up around the table either, but I can tell everyone is genuinely pleased for us, and I doubt you’d find any girl happier than me anywhere on the planet right now.

  Caleb and Terri are in a huddle, whispering, glancing around the table every so often. “What’s that all about?” Ryan murmurs into my ear.

  I shrug. “Haven’t a clue.”

  A couple minutes later, Caleb clears his throat. “Um, Terri and I have some news.”

  Everyone mutes, giving them our full attention. My brother circles his arm around his fiancée, and he’s bursting with pride as he says, “Terri’s pregnant. We’re expecting a baby.”

  The room erupts as everyone offers heartfelt congratulations. This news is the only thing all day to bring a genuine smile to Dean’s face, and I can tell how delighted he is for them.

  “Congratulations!” I hug Terri carefully. “That is the best news ever! Do you know how far along you are?”

  “Twelve weeks. We’ve known for a little while, but we wanted to wait until we’d passed this first milestone, and had our first ultrasound, before we said anything, just in case.” I hug her a little tighter, understanding what she’s alluding too. Terri was pregnant a year ago, but they lost the baby at the ten-week stage, and it devastated everyone, so I can understand why they felt the need to hold back this time.

  I glance at her flat stomach. “Wow, you’d never know you’re growing my niece or nephew in there; you look amazing. The first thought I had when you stepped through the door was that you were glowing.”

  She beams at me. “Thank you, and I’m feeling great. No sickness or anything. I’ve been a little more tired than normal but that’s it.”

  “I’m so happy for you.” My eyes shine with tears. “For both of you,” I say, pulling Caleb into our embrace. “You are going to make awesome parents.”

  “And we’re happy for you too, Gabby,” Caleb replies. “Slater is a good guy.”

  “You two look so good together,” Terri adds. “And you deserve every bit of happiness. I wish you guys all the luck in the world.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  It’s been two weeks since Thanksgiving, and I’m still floating on a cloud, completely and utterly one hundred percent madly in love with Slater Evans.

  Life has a funny way of surprising the shit out of me, in the most incredible way.

  But I should’ve known it wouldn’t be all plain sailing.

  We are in the midst of exams, and both of us are studying like crazy, so we’re cramming in as much together time as we can. We split our days between the dining hall and the library, only returning to the house when we’re both beat.

  It’s one such evening, and Slater and I have just taken a well-earned break. We’re walking hand in hand through campus, in the direction of the coffee place, when we come across a small crowd, clustered in a circle, in the middle of the road.

  “What’s going on?” I muse, chewing on the corner of my mouth.

  “Let’s find out.” Slater leads me over to the crowd, and we edge our way through.

  “Dylan!” I cry out, squeezing through a few girls to make my way to my ex. He’s lying on the ground, his body jerking and thrashing about, his limbs flailing uncontrollably. “Oh my God!” I drop to my knees, and my stomach lurches violently as his eyes roll back in his head and drool dribbles out of his mouth. I try to remember what I know of seizures, forcing myself to remain calm. “Did anyone call nine-one-one?” I shout.

  “I did.” A girl with mousy-brown hair and glasses steps forward.

  “How long has he been like this?” I ask her as Slater crouches down alongside me.

  “It happened just as I was coming out of the coffee shop,” she explains, glancing at her watch, “so, about two minutes.”

  “We need to get him on his side.” Together, we move him, and Slater stays kneeling behind him, helping to keep him propped up. Strangled sounds are coming out of Dylan’s mouth while his body continues to spasm.

  “Dylan. It’s Gabby, can you hear me? An ambulance is on its way.”

  He grunts, and I take that as acknowledgment that he knows I’m here. “Just hang tight,” I say, my voice choking on the words. I wish I could hold him through it, but I know the worst thing you can do when someone is having a seizure is to try to hold them down.

  “There’s nothing to see here,” Slater hollers at the growing crowd. “Go home and give the guy some privacy.” The shuffling of feet behind me confirms at least some are leaving. The blare of sirens echoes in the distance, and I will the ambulance to hurry up.

  After a few minutes, the spasming slows down, and then it stops altogether. Dylan’s body is spent, and he visibly deflates, but I shake my head when Slater moves to lie him flat on his back. “We should keep him on his side until the paramedics arrive.” The sirens were silenced a few seconds ago, and from the screeching of tires, I know the ambulance has arrived.

  “Dylan?” I study his face. “Do you think you’re going to be sick?” Froth is bubbling in his mouth, and I’m concerned. His eyes are more lucid when he stares at me, but he can’t, or won’t, speak. “I’m just going to check your airways are clear,” I say before gently opening his mouth and running my finger around, loosening the well of saliva pooling there. Then I unbutton the top few buttons of his shirt, allowing him to breathe more easily.

  Blatant fear radiates from his gaze as he reaches out, shakily clasping my wrist.

  “Excuse me, miss,” a male voice says from behind. “I need you to step aside.”

  “Don’t leave me,” Dylan rasps, still clinging loosely to my wrist.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” I promise.

  Slater and I step aside to allow the paramedics access to Dylan. The girl with the glasses is still here, and she looks really upset. “Thank you for calling an ambulance,” I tell her. “Can I get your name and number? I’m sure Dylan will want to thank you.”

  “I’ve never seen anything like that before,” she says, her voice trembling.

  I put my arm around her. “Neither have I. It was scary as shit.” She nods, looking like she might burst into tears at any second.

  One of the paramedics pulls me to one side, asking me a bunch of questions which I do my best to answer. I can only see the ends of Dylan’s legs because the other two paramedics are crouched over him, hiding him from view.

  When the paramedic goes back to the ambulance, Slater comes up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist. “Are you okay, Belle?”

  I stare absently at him. “Define okay.”

  “Did that ever happen before?”

  I shake my head. “Never.” I twist around so I’m looking at him. “Dylan has never had a seizure as long as I’ve known him, but I can’t account for the last couple months.”

  The paramedics strap Dylan to a gurney and wheel him toward the ambulance. The crowd has dwindled, but a few assholes remain, filming the events on their cell phones. Fucking parasites. Slater lets go of me, grabbing one of the douches and whipping his cell out of his hand. “Have you no decency? The guy just had a seizure! Do you think he wants this uploaded to social media?” He deletes the recording, thrusting the cell back at the guy while I take a pic of the other jerks.

  “My father is an attorney,” I tell them, “and I just snapped all your faces. If anyone posts anything online, you can expect to get served.”

  “You should go, Belle,” Slater says, gesturing at the ambulance.

  “Thank you.” I hug him tight. “Will you follow me to the hospital?”

  “Of course. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  I peck his lips briefly. “And can you call Heather? She needs to know. I’ll message you her number.”

  “I’ll
contact her. Go before they leave without you.”

  I run toward the ambulance, calling out to the guy currently closing the rear doors. He stops, and we exchange a few words before he lets me into the back.

  Dylan is still strapped to the cot and hooked up to a machine. I sit down beside him, taking his hand. It’s a little weird seeing him after all these weeks of no contact, but I’m glad we happened to be there, because the thought of anything happening to him sends a dagger clear through my heart.

  “You’re here,” he whispers, clasping my hand a little tighter. Beads of sweat dot his pale brow, and his eyes are still a little unfocused.

  I nod, forcing a soft smile on my face. “I promised, and it’s not like I could leave you like that.”

  “Thanks, Dimples.” His eyes fill with tears, and my heart falters in my chest.

  Old fears resurface, and I can’t help thinking that my gut instinct was right—that there’s something terribly wrong with Dylan. The whole trip I’m silently praying that I’m wrong, but I’m absolutely terrified that I’m about to be proven right.

  I’m pacing the hallway in the hospital when Slater arrives. The instant he pulls me into his arms, I burst into floods of tears. “What’s happened?” His eyes drill into mine, and there’s no mistaking the alarm etched on his face.

  “Nothing, well, I mean, I don’t know,” I sniff, clutching a handful of his shirt. “He talked a little in the ambulance, and then he fell asleep. They whisked him away the minute we arrived, and they won’t tell me anything because I’m not family.”

  “Heather is on her way. Your parents are driving her.”

  Ryan and Myndi turn up a few minutes later, and we relocate to the waiting room. Slater keeps his arms around me the entire time, and I cling to him as worry for Dylan eats away at me. My parents arrive about an hour after that. “Heather is outside talking to the doctor right now,” Dad supplies, sitting down across from me. “What exactly happened?”