by S. E. Law
In the emergency room waiting room, I sink into an uncomfortable chair, listening to the insistent beat of my heart. Adrenaline still courses through me, but this time, its source is different. This time, I’m panicking because Bailey’s dad, Rick, is going to enter at any moment.
What will he think of the state I’m in? What will he say? My legs are crossed and the top one bounces anxiously. I know he won’t blame me for what happened, just because I was drinking. He’s not that kind of asshole. But will he blame me for dragging his daughter to a party? What if she had been the one who had gotten hurt? I could never forgive myself, especially since she’s expecting.
“Bailey? Kara? Are you okay?”
I turn toward the emergency room’s automatic doors to see that Bailey’s boyfriend, Christopher, has arrived. Bailey immediately jumps out of her seat and runs to him. Christopher is Rick’s best friend, so I’ve gotten to know him over the years, too. He’s tall, like Rick, with wavy black hair and gorgeous blue eyes. Bailey buries her head in Christopher’s chest as he pulls her close. An image flickers to life in my mind’s eye: me in Rick’s strong arms, pressing my cheek against his chest, the top of my head nuzzled just under his chin…
Christopher comes over to me, and I blink rapidly, banishing the memories of my earlier dream.
“Hey, Kara. I just talked to Rick on the phone,” Christopher says, patting me on the shoulder reassuringly. “He should be out in any minute to take you to an exam room. Think you can hold it together until then?”
“It’s really not that bad,” I assure him, truthfully. The pain has largely subsided, and the bleeding has finally stopped. I once read somewhere that head wounds can look a lot worse than they actually are, and I suspect that that’s the case here. Still, it’ll make me feel better to have someone take a look at it--especially if that someone is Rick.
“I’m just so glad I found you when I did,” Bailey sighs, sitting on the other side of me. “I should never have left you alone with that asshole.”
“You had no way of knowing what a dick he was,” I tell her, noticing that her eyes are filling with tears. “Don’t you dare blame yourself for this. And besides, this will make a really great story someday, right? Especially if we stretch the truth a little and say you kicked that douchebag’s ass.”
“Oh my God,” Bailey laughs. “Me? I get sad if I swat a fly out of the air.”
“No, no, I could absolutely picture this happening,” Christopher grins. “And how exactly might that have gone down?”
Christopher, Bailey, and I entertain ourselves by embellishing the truth, and imagining how a several-months-pregnant young woman could have knocked my attacker down the deck stairs. After a few minutes of this, I’m laughing and feeling much better already. I wonder if my injury is even serious enough to merit a visit to the ER. However, I guess I should leave that up to the professionals to decide, even if that professional is…
“Rick!” I feel a shock of electricity jolt up my spine as Christopher spots his friend. I follow his gaze towards the opposite end of the room to see Bailey’s dad heading towards us. I wish I had a mirror to see if my makeup looks acceptable, then remember with chagrin that a good portion of my face is still speckled with blood. What am I thinking? I’m a mess with a lump on my head the size of an orange. I settle on simply smiling and giving him a weak wave.
“Chris, Bailey.” Rick hugs Christopher and kisses Bailey on the top of the head. Then, his gorgeous amber eyes alight on me, and I swallow hard. Even in pale-blue scrubs, his body looks fantastic. The muscles in his arms are clearly defined, and he’s tall and built. His chestnut hair is covered with a cap at the moment, but I can see bits peeking out. I helplessly wonder again what it would feel like to be swept into those arms, and hope he doesn’t notice me lick my lips.
“Hi Kara,” says Rick. He whistles at the sight of me, and, unfortunately, not in a good way. But did I imagine it, or did his gaze just flicker to my tantalizingly low neckline and back up again? Before I can process what I saw, he says, “How are you feeling?”
“Really not that bad,” I promise. “I’m lucky to have had these two great nurses taking care of me.”
He grins.
“That’s great, but I still want to examine you,” he says. “Bailey, Chris, you two don’t have to stick around. I’m about at the end of my shift and can take Kara home when we’re done here.”
“Thanks, Dad,” Bailey says, embracing him tightly. “We love you!” She and Christopher wave, and after a final round of hugs, they head out the main doors, hand in hand. It makes for a sweet sight, but now, I’m alone with Rick.
Have I ever been alone with Rick before? I wrack my brain for other instances and come up empty-handed. It’s always been me, Bailey and him together until now. I wonder if he realizes this, too.
“Alright, let’s get you to an exam room,” Rick says, smiling warmly at me. I nod wordlessly, my mouth gone suddenly dry. As I attempt to stand up, the room spins around me, and my legs wobble, threatening to deposit me back into the chair. Right as I’m losing my balance, though, Rick’s hand closes around my upper arm, steadying me. I flash a relieved smile at him, and the sight of his returning grin feels like sunlight spreading across my chest.
We walk slowly to the examination room. Rick keeps his hand gently on my arm, and moves another to my lower back, keeping me steady. I am wearing a crop top and a high-waisted skirt, and his palm is deliciously warm against my sliver of bare skin. Focus, Kara, I tell myself as we enter the room and he closes the door behind us. He’s just doing his job.
The room is small and windowless, with pale yellow walls. Rick helps me sit on the examination table, the paper crumpling and crackling beneath me. Then, he grabs a tablet and pulls up a stool.
“Alright, Kara, this is the boring stuff,” he says, smiling again. I nod and laugh a little, trying not to stare too deeply into his eyes.
“What medications are you on?” he asks.
I think about it. “A multivitamin?” I suggest, and he laughs.
“Alright, good to know,” he says. “Anything else?”
I shake my head.
“Family history?” he asks.
“Of what?”
“Disease of any kind. Especially anemia, or anything to do with your blood. That would be important to know right about now,” he says.
I tell him what I can remember. It would probably be helpful to call my mom and ask her about our family history, but I’m not about to confess to her that I’m in the hospital. She’s enough of a worrywort as it is.
Rick asks if I feel dizzy or faint, and I tell him that I was initially, but that I’m feeling better now. (Any dizziness or faintness I’m experiencing is due only to his nearness, but I keep my mouth shut on that topic.) He finally puts on a pair of gloves and with a deft but gentle touch, examines the wound on my forehead. I hiss in pain at his initial contact.
“Is this okay?” he asks. He’s so close to me now that I can smell his shampoo, or aftershave, or something vaguely spruce-like. I want to breathe it in deeply but resist the urge.
“Yes,” I murmur.
“So what exactly happened?” Rick smooths back my hair from my forehead to better see the wound. It’s hard not to lean into his warmth.
“Um,” I say eloquently. I wonder if I should confess that his daughter and I were at a party. Then, he’ll definitely know that I was drinking while underage. I decide that it is better to be honest, and am confident he won’t judge me too harshly. “We were at a frat party. Some guy started talking to me when I was outside, and he was… I guess, hitting on me a little too aggressively. I didn’t want him to, and he got mad and pushed me. I think I hit my head on the railing of the deck.”
“Are you kidding me?” Rick sits back on the stool, his brow creased in annoyance. “God, I am going to find that little fucker and…” He trails off, shakes his head, and smiles ruefully at me. “Sorry. I just can’t believe someone would do that to y
ou.”
I shrug, secretly flattered that he’s so upset on my behalf. “Maybe he was drunk. I don’t know. I honestly hope I never see him again.” I shudder just thinking about it. “Everyone was really helpful and nice at the end, though.”
Rick rises to look at my wound again. He takes a warm wet cloth to it, cleaning away what little blood remains. Is my desire-addled mind playing tricks on me, or did he just caress the side of my face? I look searchingly into his eyes, and for a moment, he stares back just as intently. My lips part in wonder. Does he feel something for me too? But no, that can’t be possible. To him, I’ll always be just his daughter’s best friend.
Confirming my thoughts, he clears his throat and turns away from me, typing something onto the tablet. “I think you’re going to be just fine,” he says. “That wound doesn’t even require stitches. Sometimes head wounds--”
“Just bleed a lot,” I finish, laughing. “That’s what I kept trying to tell Bailey and Christopher, but they insisted on bringing me here.”
“They care about you,” he says, and puts his hand on my knee. “And I know Bailey loves you.” For one electric moment I imagine him sliding his hand up past the hem of my skirt and beyond… and then just as quickly, he removes it.
“I love her, too,” I say, desperate to fill the silence.
He looks at me for a moment, his expression casual yet intense.
“What do you think about their relationship?”
The question catches me off-guard, and I blink a few times in surprise. I’ve never been anything but happy for Bailey and Chris, despite the age difference because it’s clear how much they care about each other, and how well they work together as a team. I just wish Bailey had told me sooner. That girl kept it a secret from me for months.
“I think they’re great together,” I say. “You can tell how crazy they are about each other. And I can’t wait to be an aunt!” I beam at Rick, and he laughs, shaking his head.
“Yeah, I’m not sure I am ready to be a grandpa,” he says ruefully, rubbing his face. “I’m a little young for that, don’t you think?” His chestnut hair is rumpled, and his tan skin creases slightly at the eyes as he smiles.
“You’ll be a hot grandpa,” I say, and immediately regret it. Rick quirks a curious brow at me, and I feel my face flame in a blush. Sometimes, I just wish I could keep my mouth shut.
“Thanks,” he finally says, laughing. “I’m not sure I agree but I appreciate the boost to my ego.”
Then, I quirk my head at him.
“Why are you asking about Bailey and Chris?” I question, wondering if he wants to discuss the age gap.
He looks at me sharply.
“I was concerned about the May December aspect at first,” he acknowledges, and I nod in understanding. I’m sure it would initially be startling to see your teenage daughter dating someone twice her age. “But Chris has been my friend for ages and he’s a good guy. Now …” His voice trails off, and he shoots me a look that’s impossible to read. Yet, it’s one I am desperate to understand. “Now, I guess it doesn’t seem so crazy,” he finishes.
As I struggle to gather my thoughts--what does that mean? What is he thinking?--he changes the subject.
“So what exactly were you doing at a frat party? And how in the world did you convince Bails to go with you?”
“Bailey is a great friend, that’s how,” I reply, grinning. “And I don’t know. I like parties because I like being around people, but they can be pretty overwhelming. And it just seems like the college thing to do, you know?”
“Frat parties are the worst of the worst,” Rick says with a frown. “Those idiot college boys want nothing but tail, and they’re just looking to take advantage of drunk girls.”
Was that a strictly paternal note of concern in his voice, or a jealous one? The look on his face is inscrutable, but when he gazes at me once more, another jolt of electricity sizzles between us. I can’t be the only one who notices this; I swear I can see a hint of a flush on his high cheekbones. The air in this small room suddenly seems to be exceedingly warm. I shift on the examining table, wondering if he can hear my heartbeat increasing.
“I guess I’m interested in meeting someone, too. Who knows? Maybe I’ll meet him at a random party,” I joke, even though that’s not even the truth. I have met someone, and he’s sitting right across from me.
“You’re telling me that guys at school aren’t throwing themselves at you?”
I chuckle, secretly thrilled and flattered, and avert my gaze from his.
“Just asshole guys, apparently,” I say.
“You’ll find the right one eventually, Kara.”
I look back at him. He looks at me. My mouth has gone dry as sandpaper.
“I hope so,” I whisper.
Rick raises a brow, and his eyes flash. “What do you even want a boyfriend for anyways, Kara?” he asks, his voice low.
My heart leaps into my throat, and I swallow thickly in a vain attempt to push it back down. This conversation is creeping into very dangerous territory.
“You know,” I say feebly, suddenly unable, or unwilling to meet his gaze again. “To go on dates and stuff. To have someone to hold at night. I don’t know… to do what people dating do …” My voice drops to a whisper, and I can’t believe the words that come out of my mouth. “Like what men and women do together.”
Rick rises from his stool, and I look up at him, so handsome, so strong, and so very, very close to me. His chestnut eyes flash.
“You don’t need to worry, sweetheart. I’ll show you what men and women do,” he growls.
And then, he kisses me, right there in the exam room.
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To be continued …
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About the Author
Let go of your inhibitions because S.E. Law is about to take you for a wild ride with over-the-top alpha males who CLAIM their women. Fan of candy canes, popsicles, and anything rainbow. Join my newsletter at www.selawromance.com and get a free book just for subscribing.
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