Play Fling

by Amber Scott

  “No, Jason!” Brooke shouted and sat up. “Not now!” She opened her eyes and glared at Millie.

  Millie opened her mouth to speak, but didn’t know where to begin. “Hi, there.”

  “Where are we?” Brooke slurred.

  “We are on our way to see Elliott,” Millie said, fixing a smile on her face. “He is at Washoe Medical Center and he wants to see you. So, AJ and I are taking you straight there.”

  Brooke narrowed her gaze. “What did you do to me?” She jabbed her finger at Millie, her body swaying with the car’s movements.

  Truth time. “I made a mistake, Brooke. A huge mistake. And now I’m trying to undo the damage.”

  Brooke ran both hands through her hair, sending Millie a flirty sidelong glance. Then she giggled. “You did, Millie. You screwed up royally, didn’t you?”

  What she had expected, Millie didn’t know, but this didn’t come close. “Yep, I sure did. But, you’ll be okay. I promise. Does your ankle hurt?”

  “Mmmm-hmmm, but only a lot. Millie, I think you’re right. I am a-okay, aren’t I?” Brooke lolled her head back against the seat. “Oh, I hope the hospital beds are wide because, Elliott and I are going to need a lot of room.”

  Millie blanched. “Room?”

  AJ chuckled from the front. “We’d better get there soon,” he said. “She sounds like she’s about to peak. We don’t have much time.”

  “Peak?” Millie said, but could guess what AJ meant.

  “Peek-a-boo,” Brooke said, jutting her chest forward. She laughed, clapping in short spurts.

  Yep. Definitely peaking. AJ’s lust chemistry spiked into the wine. She definitely had given her too much. Too much, too little. What did it matter if the guy who was supposed to be ravaging the daylights out of Brooke, couldn’t be found in time?

  Millie raggedly sighed. “How much time are we talking here, AJ?”

  “Thirty maybe forty minutes,” AJ said. “If she doesn’t at least see Elliott, get an endorphin reaction from his presence, she could crash. Hard. Serotonin levels plummet. Electrolyte issues might present.”

  Brooke peek-a-booed once more then poked Millie in the ribs. Thirty minutes? Could this get any worse? “What if she doesn’t get an endorphin reaction?”

  “She will.”

  She will? Millie needed more than AJ’s confidence on this one. “What if she doesn’t? What if I can’t get Elliott to see her?”

  “At the least, she’ll be in a state of extreme arousal through most of tomorrow and have one hell of a hangover to deal with.” Worry crept through his even tone. “She’ll be sick, and… I’ll be on my way.”

  Right. Good motivation. They had to get Elliott to Brooke. Short of kidnapping….

  “Hangover shmangover. You’re no fun,” Brooke said and poked Millie again.

  Millie forced her smile. “I know. No fun.”

  Brooke splayed her legs upward, running her hands over them. “Ouch!”

  “Be careful,” Millie scolded. “Your ankle could be broken.”

  “I know! I tripped over that box.” Brooke inhaled, her legs coming down. “Millie, Elliott wrote me the most awful letter. Do you know what he thinks?”

  Millie set her mouth into the smile. Here it came. “No. What?”

  Brooke scowled petulantly. “He thinks I don’t love him. He thinks you will change my mind about him.”

  Guilt tore through her. “Well, you’ll see him shortly. You can tell him I was wrong.”

  “I’ll see him?” Brooke perked up. “Really, really?”

  “Yes, really.” She didn’t want to laugh, damn it. “Brooke, I need you to understand something. I was wrong. I thought you were still in love with Jason. I went to Elliott’s today and said things I regret and now I’m trying to make things right.” There. She’d said it. All of it. Sweet, amazing relief sagged through her. “He loves you, Brooke.”

  “I know. I mean, I think I know. Can you believe it? He’s so young! And I don’t even care! But am I really going to see him?” Brooke dragged her hands through her hair. “I feel like I’ll just die if I don’t see him soon.”

  Millie gave Brooke an awkward pat on the shoulder. What else could she do? How exactly does one comfort a sexed up, formerly repressed best friend who should be screaming at her instead of writhing around the back seat of her stupid cupid’s car?

  Fortunately, the hospital came into view before Millie had to find an answer. AJ pulled into the Emergency bay’s drive and parked at the double doors. Brooke gave a tiny yelp.

  “I thought we were going to see Elliott.”

  “We are,” Millie tried her most soothing tone, but her fists clenched, making her feel all the worse. What kind of friend was she? “Elliott is here, Brooke.”

  Fear edged Brooke’s features. Her lower lip trembled. “Why is he here? What happened to him? Did you do something to him, too?”

  Millie couldn’t contain her groan. She didn’t know why Elliott was here. Just that he was. He was here. Gordon was here. But with Brooke flashing from sex kitten to wounded puppy too fast to keep up, she couldn’t exactly explain. “No, of course not. He’s fine. I wouldn’t hurt him. Promise.” In truth, he could very well be hurt. She’d been so consumed with saving Brooke, she hadn’t thought to ask. Nausea pitched through her. “Brooke, let’s just get your ankle looked at, find Elliott and the two of you can live happily ever after. How does that sound? Good?”

  Tears popped out of Brooke’s eyes. She sucked in her lower lip and nodded, but something shone where more tears waited. Distrust. Millie didn’t blame her one bit. The taste of dread sat in the back of her mouth as well.

  Don’t let this be yet another mistake. What kind of black luck would that make? Yes, Millie’d screwed up, had the wrong guy, tried to ruin the right one’s life, but come on angels! This had to work now! Elliott being at the hospital the same time Brooke had to go to one had to count as something, didn’t it? She was out of options if it didn’t. Zero. Zip. Zilch.

  Even if Millie lost AJ, let Brooke find love. Let Elliott be the one. Please.

  AJ opened the car door and helped ease Brooke out. Millie followed, redialing Gordon on Brooke’s cell phone, praying for a break.

  “Hello?”

  Recognizing the deep voice was not Gordon’s, Millie struck. “Elliott? Please don’t hang up. It’s Millie. Brooke is at the ER bay. She needs to see you as soon as humanly possible.”

  The double doors whooshed closed after AJ aided a limping Brooke. “Elliott?” Silence. “Hello?” Another pang of guilt jabbed Millie in the chest. A rustle sounded on the other end of the phone, but no reply. “Please.”

  “I’m here,” Elliott said, quietly. “Is Brooke okay?”

  “Well, not exactly. She twisted her ankle and to make up for things, I sort of gave her a kind of love potion.” Why was she telling him so much? “Long story short, if she doesn’t see you in the next ten minutes or so, I’ve been assured things could get really ugly.” Silence. “So, if you could come on down to the ER and give her a quick little kiss, maybe a nice hug….” Maybe find a place to have sex?

  “Are you telling me you drugged her? You are a piece of work. Am I supposed to believe that? No wait. Don’t answer. Part of me believes you are capable of drugging your best friend. What did you give her? Ecstasy?”

  His censure was the least of her concerns and Millie was just plain thrilled to have him talking. “I think it’s a lot like ecstasy. But stronger. And I don’t care if you believe me or not. All I care about is Brooke seeing you, as in physically laying eyes and hands on your person, and fast.”

  The line went dead. Millie gasped, staring at the phone. She redialed. Voicemail. She almost threw the phone and screeched at the top of her lungs. Shit! She could slap someone—hard—right in the face. This went beyond injustice. This was outright hell. She might deserve this. But Brooke didn’t.

  An ambulance careened out of the nearby bay, sirens screaming. Millie knew she should go in, l
ocate Brooke and AJ. Brooke could be getting worse. AJ shouldn’t have to handle this. Her mistakes. Again. Her mess. Again. Would the hospital even know how to treat Brooke? Would they think she was on drugs and call the police?

  Brooke’s or not, she gripped the phone tight, aiming at the ground, then it rang. She gaped, frozen for a moment. “Unknown number” appeared. Damn it! Elliott shouldn’t be calling. He should be arriving, sword drawn to save his damsel in distress.

  “Hello?”

  The ER bay double doors whooshed. “There you are.”

  Millie glanced up. AJ. He was calling. They both hung up.

  “Tell me she’s okay. Tell me Elliott found her.” For a moment, Millie fought just to breathe.

  “Not yet.” AJ’s eyes were stormy and unreadable. “She’s asking for you.”

  “I can’t. I have to find Elliott.” She couldn’t face Brooke. Not yet.

  Scrambling, she found the front desk, leaving AJ and Brooke in the waiting area. She asked the receptionist for room numbers. She began at Gordon’s name, went to Elliott’s, then as a last ditch effort, Elliott’s brothers’ names.

  No luck.

  “Jovovich. What was the last one again? James?” The woman peered up past her glasses expectantly.

  No. James was Elliott’s dad. Unless…. “Yes, James Jovovich. What room please?”

  “315.”

  Guilt welling, she left Brooke and AJ and found the nearest elevator.

  She imagined Elliott in some dimly lit hallway, arms crossed, nostrils flaring like a bull’s. He would see her coming and charge. She rounded a corner, spotted the room and then him, doing nearly what she’d imagined. Only his arms weren’t crossed, they were angled above his head.

  Fear ground through her. What if Elliott wouldn’t listen? What if he didn’t come to Brooke? She came to a stop in front of him and braced herself. “I owe you a gigantic apology.”

  His arms fell to his sides. His gaze pierced hers. “Yes. You do.”

  “I’m sorry for threatening your career, for assuming the wrong thing about you. I really can’t expect you to forgive me. I wouldn’t if I were you. But I am begging you to please, go to Brooke, anyway. She needs you right now. She loves you and you belong together.” She dragged in a shaky breath. “Don’t let my mistakes ruin what you could have with her.”

  Elliott looked away. No matter what he decided, Millie’s assignment was over. She would never see Brooke again after tonight. Raw realization took hold of her. Millie swallowed, willing herself not to cry. Not now, not here in front of him.

  “I told her what I did, how I threatened you.” Once Brooke sobered the information would sink in. “I’ve lost her. But, Elliott, you haven’t. You don’t have to.” What more could she say to convince him. “I’m so sorry.”

  “I can’t go to her.” Rage and hurt burned in his eyes. “I think you should leave now.”

  Millie’s mouth fell open. But nothing came out. A sob choked back any possible words. Elliott left her.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Elliott shut the hospital room door as softly as he could. His pulse pounded. His heart ached. He motioned for Gordon to go. His cousin stretched and stood, the green vinyl seat behind him slowly returning to its previous shape.

  “If you don’t need anything else,” Gordon whispered. “I’d better take off. I have court tomorrow morning.”

  Clicks and beeps filled the quiet. His father rested, tubes in his nose and arms. He would be okay. The nurses, the doctors, they all said so. The guard outside didn’t seem wary of an escape, but then earlier the heavily bearded, armed man had seemed nearly as worried as Elliott and his brothers. One more year inside and his dad could be paroled, if his health didn’t fail him first.

  “Alright. Thanks for coming, Gordon.” Elliott took the chair, wincing as it squeaked under him. “If Millie calls again….”

  Elliott’s dad stirred a little in the bed. Tubes hung from his arms, chest and nose.

  “I’ll tell her you’re unavailable.” Gordon shrugged into his coat. “Unless you’d like worse?”

  “No. Unavailable is fine.” He didn’t have the stomach for asking Gordon to play dirty for him. Hell, he couldn’t do it himself. If Millie wasn’t lying and Brooke was in fact here, really here, at the hospital, well, he didn’t know what he could do about it. He couldn’t leave his father’s side, stable or not. “Brooke’s supposedly here and drugged and needs me.”

  Gordon softly punched his shoulder. “Hey. It will all work out for the best.”

  Elliott nodded. “I know. You’re right.” More like dead wrong. How could a mess like this ever work out in his favor? First Brooke leaves with cold feet, then Millie tries to blackmail him and now? He didn’t know what to think now. Dramatics? Tall tales?

  “If Jason and I can work things out with an interfering mother like Nancy Munkle, you can work around a bitch best friend.” Gordon’s frame filled the doorway. “Brooke’s worth it, isn’t she?”

  “Sure.” Elliott attempted a smile, but failed. “I’m glad it worked out for you two. Guess I misjudged Jason.” Thankfully.

  “Of course you misjudged him. You only had my side of the story.” Gordon slipped out the door. “Get some rest.”

  “I will. Drive safely.”

  With a two finger wave, Gordon left. The guard—Clyde was it?—peered through and sent Elliott a nod. The door closed. Elliott sighed. He racked his brain for the code to remote access his voicemail. He left his phone behind in his rush to the hospital. Surely, Brooke had found his gift and his note. Surely she’d called him.

  “He finally gone?” James said, hoarsely from the bed.

  Elliott looked up, but wasn’t much surprised. His dad grinned weakly back.

  “Yeah. He’s gone.”

  His dad fumbled for the bed controls and the top half cranked upward, getting him to a sitting position. “Turn the lights up, will you?”

  Elliott did, then dragged his chair closer to the bed. “How long have you been awake?”

  “Long enough.” James closed his eyes. “You going to tell me about this Brooke girl or let me die wondering?”

  “Die, my ass. If I didn’t know better, I’d bet you and Clyde out there conspired the chest pains just to get you a hospital vacation.”

  James laughed, wheezing a bit with each low chuckle. “Clyde. Yeah, he’s a good guy. And you’re avoiding my question.”

  Elliott rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Okay.” He should have known his father would pick up on something, even if he hadn’t overheard Gordon. “Her name is Brooke.”

  “She the gal from the bookstore?” His voice was raspy, his eyes drooped closed for several seconds.

  Elliott hated how old his dad looked. He hated how worn he sounded. He couldn’t answer until his dad’s eyes opened back up and held to his. “Yes.”

  “So what went wrong enough that ole light-in-his-loafers Gordo is doling out relationship advice?”

  “I don’t know what went wrong. I can’t say that anything really went wrong.” His dad was shaking his head. Elliott didn’t wait for him to interrupt. “Her friend tried to get me fired. She thinks I’m bad for Brooke. I don’t even know why except maybe because there’s an age difference. Brooke’s ten or so years older than me.”

  “So?”

  Elliott applied the single utterance to all said. “So, I don’t want to push her too fast. She’s been hurt and she’s a bit gun shy.”

  “You sure it isn’t you who’s gun shy?”

  Elliott didn’t answer. He only shrugged.

  “After your mom passed, Elliott, no one could blame you for holding us at arm’s length. We know how it was with you two.” His eyes closed again for a long moment. “If she’s the one worth fighting for, you’ll already know it.”

  “Like Gordon said,” Elliott said. “It will work out.”

  “No. Things in life don’t just work out.” His voice was weaker now. “You work it out. I’m okay, son.
If she’s here, go find her.”

  In an instant, he could see his dad was okay. More than that, he was right, too. Elliott grabbed the water glass, directed the straw to his dad’s mouth. James sipped.

  “She’s supposedly down in the ER right now,” Elliott said.

  His dad didn’t answer, just gave him a small knowing look. Then why aren’t you? James didn’t need to say a word. Staying here only put off what he feared. What that was precisely, he couldn’t say, but he was out of excuses.

  If Brooke was here, if she was hurt, what was he waiting for? The knots in his stomach tightened. Love should be simpler than this.

  His dad shooed him with one hand, keeping his eyes mostly closed. “Bring her up when you’re done.”

  Elliott half smiled. Maybe he would. Feet dragging, he left James in the care of the staff and Clyde. His palms sweating, adrenaline pumping through him, all he could do was hope. Hope he wasn’t wrong about Brooke. Hope Millie wasn’t lying. Hope he wasn’t too late.

  Brooke’s breath caught. Her fists gathered the bed sheet as she watched the approaching figure in the hospital corridor. She slowly exhaled, relief crowding out her panic. He’d come. Elliott had come.

  The buzz of the love potion Millie kept insisting she’d slipped her hummed softly under Brooke’s skin and through her veins. Her hands gathered the sheets into her fists. She glanced at Millie and AJ, who were speaking with a nurse out of earshot, likely trying to explain Brooke’s strange behavior. Particularly during the x-ray. Someone had to have noticed her behavior was off by now.

  They didn’t see him coming. But Brooke did.

  Once she became lucid enough to comprehend what Millie kept explaining, Brooke fought to maintain some composure. Millie was a cupid, Elliott was her one true love. Millie had drugged her. She understood. Try to act normal. It was beyond impossible. At least the ER was slow tonight or she’d likely be writhing in the waiting room instead of in the empty room full of half curtained beds. Waiting for him to come.

  Until now. He looked tense.

  A new wave of arousal hit her. She bit down. Moans and writhing over an ankle sprain could only go so far with nurses and doctors trained to spot something amiss, as AJ aptly pointed out. But none of that mattered now.