Playing Heart to Get

by Kara Liane

  We kept walking down the hall until we reached the recovery ward. My brother is healing from extensive repairs to his leg. A previously botched surgery, which occurred at another hospital, had left him with lingering pain and suffering. The last surgeons were supposed to remove tiny fragments of shrapnel that shifted over the last couple of years. This was from an IED explosion on his last tour of duty. He was just minding his business and doing his job, and just stepped near one that went off—wrong place, wrong time kind of thing. He could be dead right now, and that reality doesn’t escape me. I know he was lucky, and it pains me that so many others weren’t so lucky. I can’t imagine what my brother went through, and what he is still going through. But in the end, thankfully four days ago this hospital succeeded in finally removing said fragments.

  We made it to my brother’s room and he was fortunate that he didn’t have a bedmate at the moment because I truly valued privacy. I was immediately assaulted by the clinical smells of ointment, rubbing alcohol, and whatever they were serving for lunch that sat untouched on my brother’s tray. My tummy churned, and I thanked my lucky stars that I never pursued a profession in the medical field; clearly I didn’t have the stomach for it. I walked in already smiling, and stared into the loving face of my big bro.

  "Hey Brenty-boo," I teased.

  He winked at me, and I bent down to give him a big, audible smooch on his cheek. He looked good compared to the last time we visited. I was so happy the blankets covered his leg because I hated the reminder of the agony he must be feeling. As strong and as big of a guy that he is, it still didn't sit well with me that the person who meant the most in the world to me was broken in some way.

  "So what's up?" Brent said in a scratchy voice.

  Poor guy, the tube when he was intubated must have done a number on him. My mom immediately started fussing all over him, and he tried to bat her away. I swear, my mom still thinks we're little kids sometimes. But it's charming the way she is with us. My mom, Milly, is the type of person that everyone gravitates to. She was always a stay-at-home mom. I feel like she sacrificed a lot for us kids, but I guess it was hard for her to pursue a career since she had my brother so young.

  My dad, Fred, still works as a maintenance repairman. He mostly worked on tractors and ranch equipment back in Texas. He has since switched to tackling more automotive repairs here in Philly—for obvious lack of ranches. I wish I could help with the bills. I overheard my parents quietly discussing last week that my mom was thinking of waitressing. They grossly undersold our house in Texas a few months back, and we were now living in a small apartment in Central Philadelphia.

  I had offered several times to get a job, even part-time, but my dad wouldn't hear of it. He was adamant that I finish my studies and graduate this coming winter. I had taken a break from school last year to concentrate on mending my shattered spirit. Consequently, my studies suffered. But eventually I had caught up enough taking double the course load, so I could finish only two semesters behind my original graduating class. I had issues of course when I transferred credits from my former college to Temple University, so that only put me further behind the eight ball. I'm proud of how fast I caught up, though. I was studying environmental science and had a passion for conservation and sustainability—something that none of my family members seemed to understand or appreciate because of sheer ignorance.

  Temple was treating me well. The best part was that I didn't feel alone here. Even though I didn't have any classes with my cousin, Meg, we still saw each other a lot on campus. She is the one who swept me away from Alexi in the breakroom the other day. I can't blame her, though. My brother had just gotten out of surgery, so I was dying to see him anyway. I just wish I would have had a little longer with Alexi. I didn't even realize Brent had asked me a question when I found three pairs of eyes staring at me intently.

  I shook my head as if to clear the cobwebs and asked my brother, "I'm sorry, what did you just say?"

  He chuckled. He knew me so well and realized I often retreated into my mind to reflect on things. As much as I had become less social lately, I was still the type that usually thought before I spoke, and took time to process things. I like to take everything in before I shoot from the hip; which is the exact opposite of my brother. I know without a doubt that my family loves me, but I can’t help but think that they worry I’m such a daydreamer and a naïve girl. Apparently that is what got me into trouble in the first place back home.

  "Little Bit, I said how's school going?" Brent asked with mirth in his eyes.

  He knew I hated it when he called me that awful nickname. My brother was big on teasing me, and I would never tell him that I relished it. I knew it was his way of telling me “I love you,” since he wasn’t big on showing emotion or being expressive. I rolled my eyes and wished I could quip back with something witty, but as always, nothing came to mind.

  “School’s good, thanks. Meg and I study together often. Even though I don’t know anything about photography, I do my best to quiz her. I’m sure she’s bored to tears with my forestry management class. I mean, there’s only so much a person can take on studying controlled burning and germination,” I explained.

  None of the three knew what I was talking about either, but that was expected. I had to giggle to myself because I thought about Meg’s face when she read about the intentional fires that were set to parks to control the brush and debris—she fell asleep on me at one point a few study sessions ago. Meg has a good eye and finds beauty in everything behind her lens. She is already an amazing photographer. We expect big things from her when she graduates with her degree next year.

  My dad chimed in with his usual fatherly advice, accompanied by a mandatory reprimand. “This one better stay in school. She didn’t move here for nothing. She’s too smart to give up now, and I know if she keeps pushing, she’ll be walking up on that stage before she knows it!” he conveyed proudly.

  Again, I was struck with how lucky I was to have such supporting, loving parents. My mom beamed up at her husband, and then looked at me and my brother. I could tell she was all gooey inside thinking of how blessed she was with the three of us. My parents were suffering right along with me, though. But they hid it well from me and certainly from my brother, whom would hopefully remain very much in the dark. We didn’t want to further burden him. It was not worth causing him heartache about a situation that was too late to change—and could land him in trouble with the military—and the law for that matter, if he intervened. All he knew was that we moved here to be closer to my dad’s family, since my mother’s family all passed away. She hardly had any relatives to begin with, and any remaining she didn’t even know of their existence. I think that’s why my mom treasured our little family unit so much.

  My brother was good at changing the subject after sensing my unease at broaching the subject of school. So he contorted his face and winced in pain, and my mom once again fussed all over him. I blew out a breath and reminded myself to do something extra special for my brother later to thank him for getting me off the hook. My dad began helping my mom fluff Brent’s pillow and rearrange the blankets, when I heard footsteps echoing down the hallway. I just began to turn my head when I heard that sexy, deep voice that immediately reverberated throughout my whole body.

  “So how’s the patient?” he asked.

  I immediately went weak in the knees and if it weren’t for the fact that I was leaning against Brent’s bedrail, I might have gone right down. I closed my eyes and let his voice wash over me, before I even confirmed who had spoken to the room. My heart was beating frantically in my chest, and I became aroused just knowing that it was him.

  I slowly opened my eyes and stared straight into Dr. Alexi Graham’s beautiful face. My breath hitched, and I just knew this was about to be a game-changer. OMG! He must give great bedside manner.

  Ha! my brain screamed at me. Wouldn’t you like to know? I asked myself.

  I said out loud without even realizing, “Absol
utely!”

  Chapter 6: Dinner for Two

  Alexi

  God, she’s adorable! I can see her look of mortification when she realized that she didn’t even give the appropriate response to my question. I wonder what she’s thinking, and why she blurted out that one single-word answer.

  She was dressed casually again, but looked stunning. She wore dark-washed skinny jeans and a plain white t-shirt, which fit her rather loosely. She had on once again, what I assumed, were her favorite sneakers. Her hair was down but tucked behind her ears this time, and she wore no makeup. I figured she rarely wore makeup, given her flawless skin. I loved that she had the classic beauty looks that needed no painting or fucking shellac—or whatever that shit is that girls wear. She was the whole fucking package. Put it this way, she could wear a hospital gown and clown makeup, and I’d still have the urge to fuck her senseless into next week.

  I looked at the man lying in the hospital bed, analyzing him. Then I gave a genuine smile in Caylan’s direction, after glancing down at her left hand that gripped the rail so tightly. No ring, thank God! I had gleaned information from Gloria in reception like I had planned. I was lucky the older Hispanic woman was crushing on me so badly. I didn’t need to worry that she would rat me out, but technically she and I would both be in trouble for violating patient rights. I had no business accessing this patient’s information, but I was desperate. I didn’t even have to stalk the parking lots for the orange car because the pertinent information was at my fingertips.

  I learned from the pre-surgery and in-patient paperwork that this was in fact one Brenneth Michael Peters, age thirty-three, and a combat vet. What I still didn’t know is the relationship between him and Caylan. He had only listed his parents as his emergency contacts; them being Frederic and Mildred Peters. I was hoping all along for a brother and sister relationship between Brenneth and Caylan, and now that I was in the same room with them, I could tell my suspicions were right. I assumed the older couple in the room were their parents. All four looked alike; same, but different somehow, if that made sense. I couldn’t help but inwardly sigh with relief.

  Brenneth spoke up and questioned, “I’m good Doc. What brings you in here?”

  He looked puzzled and eyed me skeptically, which was understandable since he never saw me before. He obviously knew I wasn’t one of his doctors, the perceptive bastard. I’d have to play this cool and just right. I glanced at Caylan and she still looked confused, but there was a spark of excitement in her eyes.

  I then replied, “I’m Dr. Alexi Graham. I met Caylan last week in the breakroom and wanted to see how she was, in addition to checking on you, Mr. Peters. I heard we had a combat veteran in this ward, and I thought I would show my respect and appreciation by saying ‘hi.’”

  At that moment, all three people shot perplexed looks at Caylan, and she immediately turned beet-red. Shit, I didn’t mean to embarrass her if that’s what I’d done. Clearly she never mentioned me to any of them.

  Brenneth still didn’t take his eyes off Caylan as he spoke in a derisive tone, “So what do you want with my baby sister?”

  He was even ignoring the fact about me wanting to thank him. Damn, he saw right through my reasons for being in here. As if Caylan could turn even more red, well she managed to do it somehow at that point. I’m sure the “baby” comment didn’t help matters. I could see her face fall. This was already turning disastrous. But the best part was that she was just his sister. I was one lucky son of a bitch. The only thing that scared me shitless is that I still didn’t know how old she was. I felt it was my duty to set things straight and make my intentions clear, so I could get on the right foot with this family.

  “If I may be so bold, I was hoping to speak to Caylan for a few minutes…in private,” I remarked.

  I stared directly at Caylan as I said her name, and she snapped her head up. She stared right back with those big, expressive eyes of hers, and I fell into the pools once again.

  “Caylan…,” I said in a husky voice, trying to prompt her to respond in some way.

  I loved saying her name. It just sounded so good on my lips, and felt so right. She looked at the three of them and then back at me with shock and awe written as plain as day. I knew she felt uncomfortable being the center of attention, and I suppose damn me for putting her on the spot like that. I knew my next move had to be properly done, and I’d handle her with kid gloves—she seemed so easily intimated.

  I looked in the direction of the older couple and asked, “So I presume you are Mr. and Mrs. Peters? Caylan’s parents, that is?”

  They both nodded their heads to indicate yes, and immediately Mr. Peters shook my hand with a firm grip.

  In turn, I shook Mrs. Peters’ hand and conveyed that it is, “Nice to meet you both.”

  Mrs. Peters had a very warm face and although a portly woman, I could tell she was once a raving beauty in her day. Caylan’s father was tall, but still probably an inch or so shorter than me. He had years of hard labor written in his skin as told by the wrinkles and sun-burnt look, but instinctively I felt he was a prideful, hardworking sort.

  “I am going to go ahead and second my son’s question and feel I need to know what business you have with Caylan,” Mr. Peters expressed in a strong tone.

  I had no choice but to reply with a curt, “With all due respect sir, I believe that is between Caylan and I.”

  Well maybe this wasn’t going to go over well, but I needed the ball to be in my court. Mr. Peters did not like my response as his lips pinched together, and I noticed Brenneth pursed his lips in dissatisfaction as well. What a pair these two Alpha males were. Well I’ll show them Alpha male! Despite the sullen expressions they both wore, Mrs. Peters just grinned at me as if she knew all my secrets. Fuck, I hope she didn’t!

  Mr. Peters sounded reluctant when he said, “Well I suppose if Caylan wants to speak with you then she will, and I certainly can’t stop her.”

  I could clearly hear him mumble under his breath, “Although I want to...,” when he spoke the last line. I’m sure he intentionally said it loud enough for all to hear. I once again looked to Caylan, and she finally seemed to come out of the trance she was in.

  She squared her shoulders and just quietly announced to everyone, “I’ll be right back.”

  She then walked right out of the room and turned sharply down the hall. Like the puppy dog I am, I didn’t hesitate as I followed right after her quick on her heels. She seemed to be flustered as she kept making turn after turn, clearly not having a direction in mind.

  Finally, I stopped her. I gently grabbed her arm and cajoled, “Hey there. Slow down a minute before you wear out the tile.”

  She wasn’t even looking me in the eye. On one hand it felt so good to touch her in any capacity, and then on the other hand it made me feel like maybe this was a mistake. Maybe I had been wrong about our connection?

  The next words I just blurted out without any finesse and asked, “How old are you anyway?”

  Her beautiful blues flew to mine and she seemed astonished by my abruptness.

  I still got an answer when she said firmly, “Twenty-two. You?”

  Hmm. My little kitten has a little temper. This could be fun. It was music to my ears though knowing that she was older than my subconscious thought. Whew! I inwardly thanked the fucking skies that I wasn’t walking into something bad, or rather illegal for that matter.

  The little angel looked exasperated since I still hadn’t answered her, and I couldn’t hold back the hearty laugh that bubbled to the surface. God, she had no idea how damn adorable she was. Even as huffy as she got, it was the most enchanting and appealing thing. She didn’t even have to try, and I just kept falling harder and faster down the rabbit hole.

  “I’m thirty-two,” I offered. She just shook her head as if in understanding but remained silent.

  “Are you seeing anyone?” I practically accused when the question came out.

  She immediately got defensive with a f
eisty, “No!”

  There was something else in her body language and eyes that caught my attention, but I didn’t want to press her about it at the moment.

  Then she fired back with, “Are you?”

  Hmm. How to explain my situation? “I actually just ended things with a girl, but it wasn’t anything serious in the first place. I keep things casual. So technically, I’m single,” is all I provided.

  That was all she was going to get out of me for now on that subject. It was time to steer this conversation back on track by obtaining my objective.

  “Have dinner with me tonight,” I said, but it wasn’t a question.

  I didn’t know if a weeknight would work for her, but I couldn’t fucking wait a minute longer. I had to be with her, and not in this fucking hospital for once. She bit her lip as if to ward off a sigh.

  “I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” is what she returned with.

  I immediately felt like a deflated balloon; it was not because of my ego, and not because I had never been turned down by a woman. I would never want to be denied by a woman, but this was not just any woman. This was an angel, and I refused to take “no” for an answer.

  “Caylan…,” I began to say, and I could see she visibly shivered from head to toe. Well that was a promising sign. So I continued with, “It would give me the greatest pleasure to take you to dinner tonight. I think it’s a great idea, in fact. And I won’t take ‘no’ for an answer.”