“But you could have died!”
“It’s going to take a lot more than that to get rid of me.” And shit, she wasn’t smiling, didn’t understand that he was joking. She tried to pull away but Adam tightened his hold on her hand, keeping her in place. “Beth, I was only joking. It’s not as bad as it looks. Honest.”
“How can you joke about something like that? Look at you! You could have been hurt even worse. You could have died. I don’t—”
“Would you have missed me?” And fuck, where the hell had that stupid question come from? Why the hell had he even asked her that? It was the medication, it had to be.
And now that he asked, he was afraid of the answer. He didn’t want her to say no, didn’t want to hear her tell him that she wouldn’t have missed him at all. But was that how she would answer? She was here, after all. She wouldn’t be here if she didn’t care. Right?
He waited for the space of several heartbeats, long enough to let her answer if she really wanted to. There was only silence. Adam swallowed back the unwelcome disappointment and gave her a quick smile. “I was only joking—”
“Yes.” Her voice was nothing more than a hoarse whisper. She cleared her throat, her gaze focused on their clasped hands. “Yes, I would have missed you.”
His heart slammed into his chest once more. He knew he needed to say something, knew he needed to respond somehow, but his mind was completely, thoroughly blank. And shit, he could feel her arm tensing, could feel her entire body tensing, knew he had only seconds before she pulled away. So he did the only thing he could think of—he tugged, hoping to pull her closer, hoping to get her to lean down for a kiss. She moved toward him, uncertainty in her gaze as he pulled her closer.
“I don’t think—”
“Shh.”
He tugged again and she leaned even closer, her mouth finally pressing against his. And God, she tasted so sweet, a balm to every ache and pain throbbing along his battered body.
He swept his tongue across her lips, sighed when her mouth opened for him. He ran his hand along her arm, cradled the back of her head and held her even closer. Tasting her, drinking her in.
She pulled away with a soft gasp, her wide eyes steady on his. He ran his hand through her hair, curled the pale ends around his fingers. Soft, so soft and silky.
He released her hair, ran the tip of one finger along her jaw and across her trembling lower lip before letting his hand drop back to the mattress.
“Thank you.”
Confusion flashed across her face. Sculpted brows lowered over her eyes as she tilted her head, studying him. “For what?”
“For the kiss. For coming here. For caring.”
“Adam, I—”
A nurse sauntered in with a metal tray, interrupting whatever Beth had been about to say. “How’s the pain, Mr. Price?”
Adam kept his gaze on Beth as he answered. “Better.”
The nurse stepped around Beth, barely sparing her a glance as she reached for the IV line and injected something into it. Fuck, he should have stopped her, should have told her he wasn’t ready for it. He didn’t want to slide back into the fuzzy grayness, not just yet, not while Beth was still here.
The nurse was talking about X-rays, saying something about removing the chest tube tomorrow. Adam didn’t pay attention, he was totally focused on Beth. He reached for her hand again, curled his fingers around it, fought against the strong pull of the medicine.
“I should leave now—”
“Stay. Please.” His lids drifted shut. He groaned, fought to open them, blinked and tried to focus on Beth. “For a little bit.”
“Okay. I—I’ll stay. Just for a while.”
A ghost of a smile played around his lips. He squeezed her hand, trying to tell her thanks, trying to tell her how much that meant to him.
How much she meant to him.
Mumbled words fell from his lips, hurried and incoherent as the grayness finally washed over him, pulling him under.
Chapter Twenty-One
Beth pulled her knees tighter against her chest, curling even deeper into the corner of the sofa. The apartment was getting darker, the light coming through the two small windows in the living room fading as night closed in. It didn’t matter. Maybe the darkness would help, maybe it would swallow her whole and she wouldn’t have to worry about anything.
She didn’t know what to do.
She didn’t know what she wanted to do.
And that wasn’t like her.
How had it gone all wrong? How had it had happened? It was just supposed to be sex. That was it.
She should have known better. Should have known that she couldn’t just have sex without getting attached. That was her problem, it always had been. She liked sex—like, really liked it. But she’d never been one of those women who could just hop into bed and right back out without feeling…something.
God, how could she be so stupid? She should have walked out of the bar as soon as she saw Adam that very first night, should have known he was the kind of guy who’d end up hurting her. Not because of anything he’d done—no, he’d been a perfect gentleman…
Well okay, maybe not a gentleman, not in the old sense of the word. She didn’t think gentlemen were quite so inclined to do the things Adam had done with her. But he was nice. Considerate. Funny. Everything her ex wasn’t.
And now she had fallen for him.
It wouldn’t have been so bad, even after that last time in the parking lot. She’d known then it was too late, that she’d already fallen for him. She liked him—a lot. Had wondered what it would be like to actually, maybe, have a relationship with him. Yes, she knew it would never happen. Had told herself it didn’t matter. She could imagine, right? Nothing wrong with that.
And that had been exactly what she’d prepared herself to do, after their last time together. No, it hadn’t been easy, but since when had she ever done anything the easy way? She’d get over him, move on, get back to life as she knew it.
Until she went to see him in the hospital.
She took a deep breath and wiped her face against her shoulder. Seeing him had been a big mistake. He’d looked so…so vulnerable. Trying to hide the pain even though she could see it in his eyes. And that had scared her, more than anything. The idea that someone so strong, so vital, so alive, had come so close to losing it. To…to dying.
She couldn’t imagine a world—any world—without Adam in it. That more than anything let her know she was in trouble, that she was in over her head. And when he’d held her hand and asked her to stay…
Her heart had leaped for joy, despite her mind telling her not to read into it. He was in pain, on medicine that probably stopped him from thinking clearly. It didn’t matter, though, because he’d asked her to stay. Her mind had already been made up, she’d made the decision to stay as soon as the words left his mouth, knowing she was putting her heart on the line.
What was one more time? She’d survive. She always did.
Until he uttered those last three words just before falling into whatever oblivion the medicine created for him.
I need you.
Need.
Beth had never been needed by anyone in her life. To think that someone like Adam, so strong and vital, might actually need her? No, it was ridiculous. Insane. Unbelievable.
It scared her to death.
It was the pain medicine talking. It had to be. No way did Adam need her. They didn’t know each other. They had shared sex, nothing more.
Except now she was wondering if she was wrong about even that. And how stupid—how dangerous—was that?
So she’d left, practically running from the hospital room soon after he fell asleep. The drive back home had been a blur, a race to reclaim her sanity as she put distance between them.
Beth was fairly sure she lost that race.
If she could talk to someone, have someone tell her that she was only imagining things, that she was a fool for thinking anything could happen betwe
en them, she’d do a better job of getting these stupid fantasies out of her head. She needed a cold dose of reality to snap her out of it.
But there wasn’t anyone to talk to, nobody who would really understand. Courtney would, but Courtney was dealing with her own issues. Noah’s father was back in the picture. From what Courtney told her, he was trying for a reconciliation, wanted to get back together. Courtney was fighting it, afraid of getting hurt again.
Beth knew exactly how she felt.
So no, she didn’t really have anyone to talk to. Who else would even possibly understand? How could she explain that she’d fallen for some guy she’d met for the sole purpose of having sex? It sounded laughingly stupid even to her own ears.
And now she was afraid she was going to make an even bigger mistake.
Beth grabbed her phone and tapped the screen, pulling up the text messages she’d received.
Adam was improving.
Adam was being released from the hospital.
Adam was going home tomorrow.
Adam needed her.
Beth closed her eyes and wondered again why the woman, Mikey, kept texting her. She didn’t know Beth, didn’t know anything about her. Didn’t know that she was nothing more than a casual hook-up for Adam.
Her mistake had been in telling Mikey that—because apparently Mikey did know. At least enough. And oh God, how embarrassing was that? It didn’t matter that Mikey told her she was the only woman Adam had ever introduced to his shift. So what? It meant nothing.
Except Mikey was convinced it did.
Mikey was convinced Beth was exactly what Adam needed.
No. Absolutely not. Beth couldn’t allow herself to think that, not even in the middle of the night, in the deepest, most secret places of her mind that came alive during her dreams. To believe that, even for a second, would prove fatal.
Beth had experienced heartache before, but she always survived. She knew now it was because none of the relationships had the power to really hurt her—because she hadn’t given them the power. Hadn’t really given them that much of herself, had always held something back.
It was different with Adam, and she wasn’t sure why. Somehow, somewhere along the way, she’d given him…well, maybe not power. But she’d given him a piece of herself that she’d never given to anyone else. She didn’t know how, didn’t know why, only knew that it was too late to take it back.
That didn’t mean she intended to deliberately set herself up for heartache. She could still save herself from that, all she had to do was distance herself. Not think about him, not let those stupid fantasies play out in her mind.
Except Mikey didn’t want to let her do that.
Beth had asked her why. Why was she so determined? Why was she suddenly so involved?
The answer had brought tears to Beth’s eyes, had shattered the protective wall she’d tried so hard to keep in place.
He saved my life.
And that’s when Beth learned exactly what had happened the night Adam got hurt. The fire, the explosion, the floor collapse. How he’d grabbed Mikey and protected her with his own body, how he’d risked himself to protect her—and her unborn child.
“Oh, damn. Damn, damn, damn.” Beth tossed the phone to the side and wiped her eyes. It shouldn’t matter, none of it. She needed to protect herself. She needed to not be stupid, for once in her life.
She needed to walk away, put it all behind her. To save herself before she made a huge mistake.
The phone vibrated. Once, twice, three times. Beth stared at it, afraid to pick it up, afraid of what she’d see.
Afraid of what she’d do.
But she reached for it anyway, read the text messages flashing across the screen.
And knew she was going to make the biggest mistake of her life.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Sweat beaded on his forehead, his breath coming in short gasps by the time he reached the second-floor landing of the apartment building. Adam leaned against the wall, trying to catch his breath as Jimmy stepped around him to open the door. Fuck, it felt like he’d just run a marathon instead of walking up one flight of steps.
Jimmy looked at him over his shoulder as he held the door open. “You okay over there?”
“Would you do anything if I wasn’t?”
“Hey, you’re the one who said you didn’t help, who insisted you could do everything on your own.”
Adam grunted, considered telling him to fuck off, changed his mind. He didn’t have the energy. Besides, cussing Jimmy out would be nothing more than wasted breath because the man wouldn’t care.
Adam pushed off the wall and walked the few steps into his apartment. The air wasn’t as stale as he expected, probably because Mikey and Angie had been there yesterday to clean up. Not that there was much to clean up—Adam had never been a slob to begin with. But when an apartment sat empty for eight days, there was bound to be a little dust.
Eight days. Christ, he still couldn’t believe it. It had seemed so much longer, the days blurring into each other, marked by nothing more than varying degrees of pain. They had finally sent him home today, with a long list of instructions, precautions, and prescriptions.
Jimmy moved into the kitchen and rummaged through the pharmacy bag, pulling out different bottles of pills and lining them up along the counter. He held one up, studied the label, then grabbed a glass from the cabinet and filled it with water.
“It’s time for this one. You need to take another dose before you go to bed tonight. You about ready for a pain pill? It looks like you could use one.”
Adam shook his head. “No, not yet.”
“You sure? You don’t want to wait until the pain gets so bad it’s unbearable. You’re supposed to stay ahead of it.”
“Yeah, I know. And yeah, I’m sure.” He moved to the counter and lowered himself onto one of the stools as Jimmy slid the glass toward him. Adam tossed the pill into his mouth and washed it down with a long gulp of water, then winced when pain shot through his shoulder from moving the wrong way.
“You sure about that pill?”
“Yeah, I’m sure. The only thing I want right now is a long hot shower. I haven’t felt clean since that fucking fire.”
“I still don’t think that’s a good idea, not with that fracture.”
“The doc said I could, so that’s exactly what I’m going to do. Trust me, I don’t plan on moving my arm any more than I have to.”
“Still don’t know why I got suckered into helping you out today. The last thing I want to do is help you wash your sorry ass.”
“Then don’t. I can manage myself.”
Jimmy laughed, the sound a short burst of disbelief. So okay, maybe Adam did need some help. They both knew it. That didn’t mean he had to be excited about it.
“Well, whenever you’re ready.”
“Yeah, give me a minute.” Adam closed his eyes and slowly straightened, doing his best not to jostle the arm. It felt good just to be home. To sit on his own furniture, even if it was just a stool. To breathe in the scents of home instead of the sharp odors of disinfectant.
He breathed in again, frowning, then shook his head as recognition dawned. Cinnamon and pine, just in time for the upcoming holiday season that was right around the corner. They’d obviously used scented air freshener or something when they came over yesterday.
It actually wasn’t that bad. Maybe he’d ask Mikey what kind, just in case he wanted to use some again. Just in case he had company or something.
Yeah, that probably wasn’t going to happen, not unless it was the guys from work. Why the hell would he waste air freshener on any of them?
Adam slid off the stool, his steps slow and cautious as he made his way back to his room. Jimmy followed, turning into the bathroom. He heard the sound of the faucet being turned on, heard the sound of water running. Christ, this was a new low, needing help to take a fucking shower.
Whatever. He didn’t care. As long as he could get clean.
Did she really think bringing the stupid stuffed bear here and leaving it on his pillow was going to make any difference? No, it wasn’t.
There was nothing between Beth and him, no matter how much Mikey insisted otherwise. Yes, Beth had stopped by to visit. Yes, he liked her. Okay, yeah, maybe he even cared about her—for as much as he was capable of caring about anyone. But he hadn’t heard from Beth since the day she had come to see him, the day she had given him that stupid—that cute—little fireman bear.
Adam was pretty sure he knew why he hadn’t heard from her. It was because of whatever he’d said just before he totally crashed under the pain medication. The problem was, he had no idea what he said.
No, the real problem was—he thought he did know. Maybe.
And what the hell. It didn’t matter. Beth had been gone when he came to. Which was fine. She deserved better anyway.
A hell of a lot better than what he could ever give her.
“Are you jumping in here or did you pass out on the floor?” Jimmy’s voice floated in from the bathroom. Adam stepped toward the dresser, pointedly ignoring the bear resting against his pillow, and grabbed everything he needed: socks, underwear, sweatpants, t-shirt. He glanced down at the t-shirt, frowned, then placed it back in the drawer. No way in hell would he be able to get a t-shirt on, not yet.
He hobbled back to the bathroom and placed the clean clothes on the small shelf unit tucked into the corner. Then it was time to strip down, something easier said than done in spite of the loose clothes he was wearing.
Jimmy grumbled, muttering under his breath the entire time he helped. Adam almost told him to leave, that he’d do it himself—except he couldn’t, and they both knew it.
“I don’t know why the hell you just can’t wait to have your girlfriend come help you out.”
“I don’t have a girlfriend.”
Second Alarm (Firehouse Fourteen Book 5) Page 16