Finding Our Course: Collision Course Duet

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Finding Our Course: Collision Course Duet Page 39

by Ahren Sanders


  “What did you say to him?”

  She winks. “He’ll tell you soon enough.”

  Oh, shit. Even unconscious, Quinn finds a way to bust his balls. For once, I can’t wait to see how this turns out.

  Thank you for not taking no for an answer and giving me the fairytale every girl dreams of. Your love and support are my lifelines, and without them, I’d be nothing. That may sound pathetic, but now that I’ve experienced the depth of your devotion, there’s no going back. I can only hope that you feel the same passion and adoration from me.

  My life is intertwined with yours, and I can’t fully breathe without you. All that matters is that we are together. I’d do anything in the world to see your beautiful blue eyes stare into mine right now. Physically and mentally, my heart craves your touch and the sound of your voice.

  Bryce Randolph, you’re the bravest, strongest, and most loving man I’ve ever known, and I’ll be honored to be your wife. Please wake up and marry me.

  I wipe my cheeks and slip the ring on his finger then lift it to my lips.

  His chest rises and falls as normal, and I sit down and curl into his side like most nights. My eyes get heavy at the sound of his heart beating. I fall asleep with memories flooding my mind.

  The way his lips curl when he gives me a cocky grin.

  The heat in his eyes when I walk into a room.

  The deep sound of his laugh when I amuse him.

  The touch of his lips on my skin when he kisses up my spine.

  The warmth of his body wrapped around mine after we make love.

  The feeling of his hand running through my hair and massaging my scalp.

  I snuggle in closer to him and inhale deeply, remembering his scent. Pressure on my head deepens, and I whimper, wishing it was real.

  “Devon?” A raspy voice calls to me in my dream.

  “Baby,” I reply, hoping he’ll keep talking.

  “Devon, baby, wake up.”

  “I don’t want to. You’re talking to me finally. That means you know who I am.”

  “Of course I know who you are.”

  “No, you don’t. If I wake up, you won’t know me. In my dreams, you always will.”

  “Baby, what the fuck are you talking about?”

  The heartbeat under my head speeds up, and the hand on my head moves to my neck, rubbing lightly.

  It feels so real; my eyes fly open, and I jerk back. Bryce stares at me with complete clarity. He scans my face, and his blood pressure starts to rise. The monitor beeps loudly, and I shout out.

  “You’re awake!”

  He nods and then winces.

  “Do you recognize me?”

  “How could I not?”

  “Tell me before the nurses bombard us. Who do you think I am? Give my full name.”

  “Devon Marie Harris soon to be Randolph.”

  Relief washes through me, and my head falls to his side. “Thank you, God!” I exhale as two nurses come in.

  The next ten minutes are a blur as Bryce is checked over and the doctor is called. We give him a condensed version of the accident and what his injuries are. His eyes stay locked to mine the entire time. I’m frozen in place, scared to move. Finally, I snap out of my trance and reach for the phone.

  Quickly, I call Sheila and then text Nate and Quinn. The nurses finish and leave, saying a doctor is coming. Bryce reaches his good arm to me.

  “Come here.” He pats the bed.

  I crawl in carefully and attach myself to his side. “Please don’t fall asleep again. Don’t leave me,” I beg.

  “I’m not going anywhere.”

  My hands frame his face, and I lean my forehead against his. “You terrified the shit out of me. Don’t ever do it again.”

  He nods and grips my wrist. “I’m sorry. The last thing I want to do is hurt you.”

  My Bryce, always thinking about me. His words hit me hard, and I start to cry. “I thought I lost you! Never again, Bryce. Do you hear me? Brain surgery, broken bones, possible amnesia! We were all worried sick.”

  “Shhh, baby, calm down. I’m fine.”

  “You are not fine! You’re hurt!”

  “The only thing hurting me right now is your tears.”

  I swipe my hands across my cheeks and take a deep breath. “You’ve been in a coma for over a week. Give me a break.”

  “Okay,” he says sympathetically. “Two minutes—let it out.”

  “Glad to see you decided to wake up and join us.” The doctor’s voice stops my freak out. “It’s been a while.”

  Bryce’s eyes slice to the door and flash with annoyance. “Are you the one hitting on my fiancée?”

  I swing my head to the middle-aged man and back to Bryce in disbelief. “Bryce!”

  “Quinn said the doctor was trying to sweep you off your feet.”

  As soon as he says it, I start laughing. I shake so hard, I fall off the bed and land on my ass on the floor. The doctor tries hard to hold his smile but ends up chuckling along with me.

  “What the fuck is so funny!” Bryce yells.

  “Young man, she’s a pretty little thing, but I’m happily married with five kids.”

  “Maybe it’s another doctor then,” Bryce adds, not impressed.

  “Could be.” The doctor winks at me and gives me a hand to help me up. “I need to do an exam.”

  “I’ll wait outside.” I lean in, kiss Bryce quickly, and go to the hallway.

  Our whole crew piles out of the elevator a few minutes later, and they stop dead when they see me wiping my eyes.

  “It’s okay! These are happy tears.” I explain what happened, and Quinn pats herself on the back.

  “Knew he was too over the top to sleep through another man hitting on you.”

  “No one was hitting on me,” I argue.

  “He didn’t know that.”

  “Good lord.” Nate looks at the ceiling and then to her. “You have no shame.”

  “Your sister is laughing and smiling. I’ll gladly accept your gratitude.”

  My mom and dad both wrap their arms around her.

  We talk until the doctor walks out irritated. “Is he always this stubborn?”

  “Yes,” we all answer.

  “We’ll run tests in the morning, but you need to convince him that he has at least three days before we release him. Barring the results.” He looks directly at me. “Does he listen to you?”

  “Most of the time.”

  “Don’t let him move that arm too much, and for the love of God, tell him, if he can walk, we’ll remove the catheter tomorrow.”

  “Got it.” I nod. “Anything else?”

  “Congratulations. He told me you married him tonight.”

  My mom gasps behind me, and heat fills my cheeks. “It was more of an informal thing. We’re not legally married yet.”

  “Tell him that. He’s pretty sure he needs to consummate the marriage.”

  “Jesus,” my dad mutters, and I burn all over from embarrassment.

  “The nurse has instructions on his diet for the next twenty-four hours, but fluids are good. Tests will start at seven a.m.”

  “Thank you, Doctor.” Dave speaks up and shakes his hand.

  We all walk back in, and I stay back when Sheila and Dave go straight to Bryce. He hugs them with his good arm, and then Nate joins them. Quinn links her arm through mine and lays her head on my shoulder.

  “He pulled through,” she points out. “Knew he wouldn’t leave you.”

  “Brilliant thinking on the doctor thing. I’ll remember that.”

  “Knew it would work.”

  “I love you, Quinnie.”

  “I love you too, girl.”

  We stand together, watching Bryce ask questions and listen to the answers intently. He looks at me with horror when his mom tells him the details of waking up and not recognizing me.

  “Baby.” His voice is soft and full of hurt.

  “I’m okay,” I reassure him.

  “Come here.


  I detach from Quinn and go to his side. He slides over gently, so I can lay down. His lips brush against my cheek, and I melt into him.

  “What’s the deal with the baby balloons?” He looks at the window ledge.

  “Don’t’ knock it!” Quinn throws her hands out. “They were cute.”

  “Really? It’s a boy? It’s a girl?” He raises an eyebrow at her.

  “I was in a hurry.” She shrugs.

  “Yet you had time to tell a man in a coma that his girl was being hit on by the doctor?”

  “Yep! I’ll own that proudly.”

  “Is it too late to kick her out of the wedding party?” he asks loudly.

  “Listen here, buddy. You can still go on the loser list. Don’t mess with me.”

  “Wouldn’t dream of it.” He holds me close and whispers, “Dean is a saint.”

  I nod my agreement and bury my face into his neck, absorbing all that is him. People talk around me, but the stress of the last week takes over and I drift off to sleep on his shoulder. Tomorrow will be here soon enough, and hopefully, this nightmare will be over.

  Chapter 36

  I pack my bag quietly and refuse to look at Bryce, who’s lying on his bed watching me.

  “You shouldn’t give the silent treatment to an injured man.”

  “How would you react if I was kicking you out of my apartment?”

  “I’m not kicking you out. I’m insisting you go back to school for the one week until spring break.”

  “I don’t want to. What happens if you need me?”

  “Baby, it’s not a question of needing you. I’ll always need you. But school is important.”

  I toss my sweater on top of my bag and decide to try one more time for him to come with me. “Come with me.”

  “You know I’m going back to work tomorrow.”

  “Ugh!” I throw my hands in the air and swing my head to him. “You are infuriating. Absolutely, one-hundred percent, off the wall maddening! I can’t believe you’re going back so soon!”

  “Devon, get over here.”

  I stumble across the room and sit between his legs, facing him.

  “Do we need to go over this again?”

  “Will it convince you to stay home and rest?”

  “No.”

  I slump my shoulders in defeat. As hard as I try, this is an argument I can’t win. Bryce was released from the hospital three days after he woke up with instructions to rest for another full week. All bruising was almost gone, and his brain was fine and functioning. He was given strict orders to restrict movement and keep his arm in the brace to help the collarbone heal. Otherwise, he was fine.

  I personally was amazed that there wasn’t more concern regarding his recovery. But after speaking to three separate doctors, I was finally convinced Bryce was going to be fine. Apparently, the seven days he was out helped heal his brain.

  Our parents stayed for a few days after he was released but went back a few days ago, leaving me in charge. Sheila and I talk at least four times a day, which drives Bryce crazy. He says we’re acting like lunatics because he’s fine. In actuality, things are mostly back to normal. He’s going to work on light duty tomorrow. I still hate leaving him.

  “What happens when you need help with your brace?” I point to his shoulder. “That always gives you trouble.”

  “Nate can help me.”

  “I can’t believe you’re making me leave.”

  “You’re looking at it the wrong way. I’m sending you back to catch up for the weeks you’ve been gone. It’s important to me that you get back into a routine.”

  I position myself to his uninjured side and lie on his chest. “I’m scared,” I admit.

  “I know, but you’ll be back in five days. Surely I can survive.”

  We stay silent for a few minutes, him running his lips along my forehead.

  “My heart broke every day in that hospital that I couldn’t wake up and comfort you. The sound of devastation and fear in your voice still haunts me. Some things are hazy, but others, I’ll never forget. My parents begging me to wake up, Nate gripping my hand and telling me I had to pull through, your crying as you tried to fall asleep—all of those things.”

  “What was it like?” I ask cautiously. Bryce has been very quiet about the days he was unconscious.

  “It’s hard to explain. There’s a lot of time I can’t account for. It seemed like one second you would be talking to me, and the next thing I knew, Dad was reading a sports article. Everything found a way to mesh together. Some specific moments stand out.”

  “Which moments?” I pry, curious.

  “There are two that run through my mind constantly. One was when Liza visited. Her words are scrambled, but I’m pretty sure I heard the sound of skin slapping. Then things went dark. The next thing I know, Nate’s calling you Manny Pacquiao.”

  “Oh my God! I wanted to kill her.”

  “When Nate explained to me what she’d done and her justification, I closed my eyes and pictured you hitting her.”

  “Have you decided what you’re going to do about her?”

  “Nothing. She’s gone. New orders start tomorrow. Dani told Nate she’s gone.”

  “Where?”

  “Don’t know and don’t care.”

  “That was really quick.”

  “Navy doesn’t fuck around.”

  I snuggle closer to him, soaking in his closeness and the knowledge that she’s out of our life for good.

  “Tell me the second moment that runs through your head.”

  “The second you slipped this ring on my finger. The metal touched my skin, and I started to wake up. The beeping became clearer, your touch became warmer, and the kiss against my hand sent a jolt of energy through me.”

  “Really?”

  “Oh yeah.”

  “Can you remember what I said?”

  “Not really. Why don’t you repeat it for me now?”

  I shake my head and twist the ring on his finger. “I’m not sure if I can repeat it but know that I love you.”

  “I’ll take that for now. How about showing me how much you love me before you leave. My body needs to release some of this pent up ‘sexual frustration’.” He jerks his hips toward my thigh and places my hand on the bulge in his sweatpants.

  “Nope.” I back away, grinning wickedly. “Doctor said two weeks.”

  “You are NOT going to listen to him, are you?”

  “Maybe, if you let me stay, I could be persuaded to break the rules.”

  “Sexual blackmail? That’s what you’ve resorted to?”

  “If it works, why not?”

  “You sure about that?” He slides his hand up my side until it grazes the underside of my breast. “How about a little taste?”

  My body curves into him, begging to be touched. He leans down and kisses along my jawline until I moan. His hand slides along my stomach and slips under the waistband of my pants, then he stops and leans his forehead against mine.

  “Are you trying to kill me?”

  “Me?” I ask innocently. “Why would you ask that?”

  “Where the hell are your panties?”

  “Did I forget to put them on?”

  He growls and rubs his thumb in circles around my clit, never touching. I follow his earlier movements and slip my hand under his sweatpants; his dick jumping at my touch.

  We tease each other with small touches, waiting for the other to give in.

  “I’ll make you a deal,” I whisper against his neck and scrape my nail across his crown lightly. “I stay tonight, leave in the morning, and we’ll see if you can convince me to break the doctor’s orders.”

  He leans back, and the heated hunger in his stare tells me I’ve won.

  “You don’t fight fair, but I’ll fold. As much as I hate to admit it, my movements are restricted. You’re in charge.”

  I lick my lips and scoot away, lifting my shirt over my head. “I think I can handle being in charge
.”

  His eyes widen and then rake over my chest. “Somehow, I get the impression you had this planned.”

  “I’ll deny ‘til I die.” I giggle and watch his lips tip into a sideways grin.

  “Now, I have about eighteen hours to convince you to stay home and rest this week. I’d better get to work.”

  “Not going to happen, but it’ll be fun to see you try.”

  “Famous last words, Bryce Randolph.” I straddle him and grind our hips together until he groans.

  I mentally pat myself on the back. He doesn’t stand a chance.

  Getting back into a routine takes a day. It’s amazing how much has happened in the last few weeks, but when I get home, nothing’s changed. Thanks to my friends and classmates, all my assignments are caught up and projects on time.

  After spring break, we have seven weeks until graduation. Quinn and I were officially accepted into the MFA program last night, so tonight, we’re celebrating with the others who received the same news.

  The bar is packed for a Thursday when we arrive and spot our group in the back corner. No one specifically questions me about Bryce, but they all give encouraging smiles, followed by rounds of shots.

  By ten o’clock, I’m feeling no pain and finally letting the stress go. Quinn takes charge, sending a text to Bryce. His reply is not surprising.

  Bryce: Take care of my girl. Buy a round on me. Devon has my card.

  She obeys and orders drinks for the whole table. The conversation shifts to simple things, like summer plans, next year’s program, and professors we’re scared of.

  We all freeze when the waitress walks up with another round, saying it was called in from Professor Henry Grant and his wife, Shana Willis Grant. She wanted to congratulate everyone.

  Cheers erupt around the table. Quinn shoots her a quick text, thanking her.

  I clink bottles with Eric, Crystal, and Kenny in celebration of our accomplishments. After all I’ve gone through the last few weeks, I deserve this.

  Sometime during the night, Quinn and I send a video to Bryce and Dean, singing an obnoxious version of “Marry Me” by Jason Derulo.

  The message I get back sends my heart racing.

  Bryce: I already married you. It’s your turn to marry me.

 

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