Since Drew

by J. Nathan

  He gripped the doorframe, teetering between the hallway and my room. “Does that mean you wanted me to stay?” His voice had dropped to a sexy tenor.

  “Don’t get crazy now.” My lips kicked up on one side, an oddity given my current situation. “Do they let all patients roam the halls here or just you?”

  Drew stepped inside. “It’s not a jail.”

  I glanced down at my legs. “Sure feels that way.”

  His eyes examined my cast and brace as he dropped into the chair beside me. The nurse who’d changed the bandage on my cheek found me a pair of shorts and a white T-shirt with the hospital logo. Anything beat a hospital gown. Drew must’ve felt the same since I hadn’t seen him in one either. “Yeah. Sucks to be you.”

  “Empathetic much?”

  He flashed what I assumed to be his panty-melter grin. Nope. It was definitely his panty-melter grin. “I like the booty shorts.”

  Feeling vulnerable under his gaze, my traitorous cheeks heated.

  “You gonna let me be the first to sign the cast?”

  I cocked me head. “Does anyone over the age of ten actually do that?”

  He shrugged as he pulled open the bedside drawer and rummaged through it.

  “Forget something?”

  “Like what?”

  “Oh I don’t know. Your stash of condoms?”

  His hand froze as his eyes cut to mine. “That an invitation?”

  “What? God, no.” I shouldn’t have sounded so repulsed, because really, with his good looks, amazing body, and quick wit, Drew seemed to be the total package. “You haven’t even told me why you’re here. It might be some contagious STD.”

  He continued rummaging through the drawer with a knowing smirk.

  “No, seriously. Why is it that you’ve got the run of this place?” I asked.

  He pulled a pen from the drawer. “I’m sick. They take pity on the ill.”

  I waited for him to elaborate, to shed some light on the circumstances that brought him to this place, a place no healthy person remained longer than a brief visit. But instead of indulging me, he crouched at my ankle and attempted to write on my cast.

  Too bad for him. I didn’t back down that easily. “So, how long have you been here?”

  He didn’t look up. “Not much longer than you.”

  “Yet here you are seemingly fine.”

  “Oh, I’m far from fine.” He remained focused on the spot on my cast, working the pen over the bumpy plaster. “They’re just trying to figure out what’s wrong with me. You know, running tests.”

  “What kind of tests?”

  Those pretty green eyes, encased by thick dark lashes, flashed up. They were cloudy. Unamused. Uncomfortable. Was his prognosis something serious? More serious than he let on? “Speaking of tests…” He jumped to his feet. “I’ve got another one in a few minutes. They’re probably looking for me.” He tossed the pen on my tray table. “This doesn’t work anyway.”

  He disappeared into the hallway, leaving me wondering what I’d said to cause him to rush out so quickly.

  * * *

  I switched off the afternoon talk show I wasn’t really watching. I’d had a tough morning. The visiting physical therapist stopped by and gave my knee an agonizing stretch. Thankfully, my pain meds helped with the soreness and discomfort. Unfortunately, they didn’t ease the pain brought on by my coach’s phone call.

  I closed my eyes, desperately needing to sleep. Needing to forget his call. Needing to ignore the fact that while unconscious, Marley Edwards slipped into my spot. She’d be outfitted in red, white, and blue. She’d be entering with team USA while onlookers cheered with their flags waving. She’d be in contention for the medal.

  “Ms. Parker?”

  My eyes popped open. A police officer filled the doorway. Given his large frame, menacing qualities, and the fact that he wasn’t carrying a 1980’s boom box ready to slip on some cheesy techno music and rip off his uniform, Logan hadn’t sent me a stripper.

  “I’m Officer Roy.” He walked inside, eyeing the chair beside my bed. “Mind if I sit?” I shook my head as he lowered himself into it, pulling out a small notepad. “I just need to ask you a few questions.”

  “Okay.”

  “Do you have any recollection of what happened the night of your accident?”

  My head fell back into the pillow as my thoughts transported me to that night. “I was out for a run.” I zoned in on a chipped piece if plaster on the ceiling, remembering the slapping of my sneakers on the concrete. The fierceness of the waves. The thick salty air. “I always run on that road. It’s usually deserted at that time of night.” I looked to him, vigorously jotting down my words. “I heard a car approaching.” Knots of unease formed in my stomach. “I glanced to the side, but all I could see were lights. Bright headlights. Before I even saw the car, it hit me. I blacked out and woke up here.”

  He stopped writing and looked up at me. “Sounds scary.”

  “I was unconscious for most of it. I was kind of hoping you’d be able to fill in the blanks.”

  He tucked the small pad into his pocket. “From what I could surmise, the driver lost control of his vehicle.”

  Wow. I hadn’t even considered the driver. “Did he make it?”

  “Barely.”

  “Was anyone else in the car?”

  He shook his head.

  “Geez.”

  He pulled a small card from his pocket. “If you remember anything else, even if it seems trivial, I want you to call me.”

  I took the card from his outstretched hand. “Okay.”

  He stood and walked to the door, stopping in the doorway and glancing over his shoulder. “Take care, Ms. Parker.”

  I looked down at my useless legs, knowing I had one hell of a road ahead. “I’ll try.”

  Once he left, I closed my eyes. It had taken more effort than expected to recall that night. The complete darkness. The tires crunching over the sandy pavement. The fear I felt knowing I couldn’t protect myself.

  “What do you say we get outta here?”

  My eyes snapped open. Drew leaned casually against my door jamb. “If you hadn’t noticed, I can’t walk.”

  He eyed my legs. “So?”

  I tilted my head. “You planning on carrying me? Because if so, you’re gonna need a fork lift.”

  A sly smile crept across his lips. “For the record, I could carry your tiny body for days, soaking wet, across continents and oceans.”

  I eyed his short sleeves tightly gripping his impressive biceps. I didn’t doubt it for a second.

  “It’s the damn cast.” He nodded at the awful thing. “It’d take out everyone in our path.” He disappeared into the hallway and returned pushing a wheelchair.

  I held up my palm, stopping him from moving closer. “Thanks for the offer. But I don’t really feel like going anywhere.”

  His forehead creased. “Why not?”

  “Well, I haven’t showered. I’ve got this ridiculous bandage on my face. And, I’m pretty miserable company.”

  He flipped up the chair’s right leg rest. “You think any of that’s going to stop me?”

  The confident look in his eyes, as he abandoned the wheelchair and walked over to the side of my bed, seriously called into question my power of persuasion. He planted his hands on the mattress. It dipped under his weight.

  A deep ripple rolled through my body and tiny prickles attacked my arms as his fresh scent wrapped itself around me invading all my senses.

  I needed him to back up before I did something stupid, like pull him to me and go crazy on his lips. “Just because we were roommates for like a second, it doesn’t mean you have to do this.”

  “Who said that’s why I’m doing it?” Sincerity shone his eyes, or he was one hell of an actor. Without warning, he slipped his hands underneath me, cradling me in his arms like I weighed nothing at all. Good God, he was strong. Unwilling to concede and wrap my arms around his neck, they dangled limply at my si
des. He twisted and set me down in the wheelchair, slipping my cast into the raised rest. “Where to?”

  Except for the fleeting bout of dizziness that momentarily afflicted me, sitting upright in something other than a hospital bed felt nice. Refreshing even. “Surprise me.”

  “Fair enough. But I can’t take you too far looking like that.” His eyes trailed over my hospital shorts and T-shirt.

  “Wouldn’t want to embarrass you.”

  “Embarrass me? Are you kidding? The guys around here would be congratulating me. It’s no easy feat getting such a honey to go out with me.”

  I lifted a skeptical brow.

  His smug smile confirmed he had no trouble with the ladies. “So…” he mused. “A fancy restaurant’s out of the question. The movies would be too uncomfortable for the poor schmuck in front of you. And a walk on the beach would mean you could actually walk—”

  “Seriously? You’re like the most unsympathetic person I’ve ever met.” I couldn’t decide if I was aghast by his callous statement or amused he had the balls to actually say it.

  He grinned. “Oh, I sympathize. I was just stating the obvious.”

  I rolled my eyes. “How about some fresh air?”

  He grin widened as he stepped behind the chair and wheeled me out of the room, careful not to slam my cast into the door jamb.

  Heads turned as we made our way down the hallway. Some nurses smiled. Some did a double take. Some waved. Who could blame them? The hottest guy in the hospital was pushing me around.

  When we reached the elevator, Drew spun my chair and backed me inside. It was only then I realized my room was on the fifth floor. “Are you on this floor, too?”

  He shook his head as we began our descent. “Nope. Got demoted from the penthouse.”

  “Thanks to me?”

  “Thanks to you.”

  The elevator doors split on the ground floor. Drew pushed me through the busy lobby, avoiding the main entrance where what looked to be a group of reporters with cameras waited outside.

  “What’s going on out there?”

  Drew pushed me to the sliding glass doors at the side of the lobby, as far away from the front doors as we could get. “No idea.”

  I closed my eyes as we passed through the doors, embracing the warmth of the afternoon sunlight on my skin. I took a nice deep breath, inhaling the crisp fresh air while ridding my senses of the sterile hospital smell for the first time in days.

  When I opened my eyes, an unexpected oasis surrounded the building. Pastel flower beds covered the grounds. Wood benches sat scattered in shaded areas under blooming cherry trees. And a brick walking path lined the perimeter of the freshly-cut lawn.

  Drew pushed me onto the path, walking us slowly around the property.

  “Are you allowed to be out here with your condition?” I asked.

  “You make it sound like I should be in a bubble.” It came out light-heartedly, but I wondered what really ran through that head of his.

  “Should you?”

  “No,” he laughed.

  Not one to relent easily, I kept at it. “How’d your test go? Did they find anything?”

  He maneuvered me around some raised bricks. “Nope.”

  “Are you in any pain?”

  “Not in the traditional sense of the word.”

  I tried reeling in the frustrated huff that escaped my lips, but I really wanted to know his deal, and he was being so evasive. “You haven’t told me where you’re from.”

  “You haven’t asked.”

  “Seriously? It’s like playing twenty-questions with you.”

  He snickered. “Just outside Raleigh. You?”

  Up until my accident, I’d planned to travel wherever the Olympics and subsequent events took me. Not anymore. “Right here in Wilmington.”

  “Oh yeah? My parents’ beach house is here.”

  “That’s weird. I’ve never seen you around.”

  He remained behind me, but I could tell he shrugged his broad shoulders. “I’m usually busy in the summer. And I’m not really into the whole beach scene. Don’t get me wrong. Girls in bikinis, totally my thing. But spending time with my family, not so much.”

  “That bad?”

  “Worse.”

  We passed a little girl kicking a ball on the grass with her parents. Her mother wore a hospital robe and a smile, clearly longing to be home with her family.

  “I heard you mention your parents,” Drew said from behind. “They sound…interesting.”

  “That’s one way of describing them.”

  “So, whales?” Amusement colored his tone.

  I nodded. “I couldn’t change them, even if I wanted to.”

  “So, you’re not into all that stuff?”

  I looked over my shoulder. Drew’s eyes were trained on the path ahead. “What stuff?”

  He glanced down. Our eyes met for a long moment before he spoke. “Saving the world.”

  I shook my head. I’d been too consumed with getting to the Olympics to save the world. Now, I just needed to save myself.

  “You still in school?” he asked, taking the lead in our game of twenty-questions.

  I turned around, enjoying the beauty surrounding us as we walked. “I’m supposed to graduate from UNC next month.”

  “No shit,” he said, like it was the most interesting news he’d heard in a long time. “I’m graduating from Duke.”

  “Duke? That’s impressive.”

  “Not really. They used me for my arm. I used them for their name.”

  “Your arm?”

  “Football,” he explained. “I’m a quarterback.”

  Of course he was. Athletic drive. That’s what I saw in his eyes. The same look I possessed for the last eight years.

  “So, you think you’ll be able to walk across the stage by then?” he asked.

  My brows dipped, confused by his hasty subject change. “I have no idea if I’ll even be on crutches by then.”

  Drew parked me beside a secluded bench under one of the cherry trees covered with beautiful, pale pink flowers. He sat down beside me, turning his body to face mine. “I could push you.”

  My eyes jumped to his, expecting to see humor dancing in their green depths. But that’s not what I found. He’d been serious “You barely even know me.”

  “Oh, I know you all right.”

  I chewed my bottom lip, unnerved by the implication of his words. “Oh, yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  I studied his striking features, curious as to what he could possibly know. I fanned out my hand. “By all means. Enlighten me.”

  He straightened his spine, prepared for the challenge. “You don’t have many loyal people in your life who stick by you when you need them.”

  I crossed my arms as if they could somehow shield me from his candid assessment. “You know that from talking to me a couple times?”

  “I know that because, since you’ve been here, no one’s visited you except your crazy friend.”

  I averted my gaze, slightly embarrassed by the fact that he’d been right. I didn’t have many close friends. I’d always been too busy running and training. It wasn’t like track was a team sport. I spent most of my time alone. And not until that moment, not until he’d pointed it out after knowing me for a couple days, had I considered it something to be ashamed of. I mean, isn’t one close friend you can trust with your life better than a bunch of quasi-friends who could turn on you at the drop of a dime? My eyes shot back to Drew’s. “Logan’s not crazy. She’s just passionate.”

  His unconvinced expression caused us both to burst into laughter. “We’ll agree to disagree on that one. Besides, we’re talking about you. And you’re determined.”

  My laughter ceased. “Why would you say that?”

  “Your questions to the doc. About running.”

  I nodded. I was determined. A lot of good that did me now.

  “And did I mention cute?” he asked with a sexy as sin grin. “Becaus
e you’re damn cute.”

  I suppressed a smile. “Obviously.”

  “And modest.”

  “Don’t forget humble,” I smirked.

  “And sarcastic.”

  We shared another laugh. It felt refreshing to actually let go of all the angst eating me up inside—at least for a little while. “You should be careful. I’m kind of needy these days. I might just take you up on your offer.”

  “You’d be a fool not to. Most girls would pay big money to have me with them on one of the biggest days of their life.”

  “Prom?”

  He cocked his head, not bothering to respond. But I could tell he enjoyed our easy banter as much as I did.

  “Even if I can still take my finals and graduate on time, I’m not sure you, me, and your big head will make it across the stage.”

  I thought he’d laugh or crack a joke, but he didn’t. Something had changed. It was as if a switch snapped off, and he’d disappeared inside himself. His attention moved to the football that rolled to his feet. He reached down and picked it up, looking to the boys who’d been playing catch across the lawn. I expected him to show off his arm and toss it back to them, but he didn’t. Instead, he handed it to me.

  “You want me to throw it?”

  He nodded.

  I grabbed the ball, gripping the bumpy leather and aligning my fingertips on the lacing like my dad had shown me to do when I was his little tomboy. I drew a breath, hoping I didn’t throw it like a total girl and embarrass myself.

  I pulled back my arm, releasing it in one quick movement. It sailed with ease though the air in a perfect spiral.

  “Nice throw,” Drew said, seemingly surprised the ball actually landed in the guy’s hands.

  “One of my many talents.”

  He still didn’t laugh.

  “What’s wrong? You scared of a little competition?”

  For a long time, he stayed silent, just staring out across the property watching the guys playing catch. Their throws were nowhere near as perfect as mine—of course. But they were having fun. Laughing and joking around. Dodging around each other when they had the ball. Cheering when they scored an imaginary touchdown.

  “I’m supposed to be drafted to the pros.” Drew’s deep voice startled me.

  My head whipped to him. “The pros? That’s amazing.”