Holding Onto Forever (The Beaumont Series: Next Generation Book 1)

by Heidi McLaughlin

  My aunt Yvie walks in and stands at the end of my bed. It’s like we’re having a staring game, except she’s winning because I’m still doped up on morphine. I have a feeling that once I’m out of this hospital, I’ll be sent to another one to deal with the drug addiction I’m developing.

  “Are you just going to stand there?” I ask. My voice is groggy and hoarse. Side effects of the tube they stuffed down my windpipe to help me breathe.

  “I’m afraid to touch you.”

  “No one said you had to, but you can come closer. I won’t bite.” I offer her a smile, but it doesn’t feel like my lips are even moving.

  Yvie floats over. I say float because she’s as dainty as a butterfly. It comes from teaching dance and yoga. She and Xander own a state of the art facility in Los Angeles where they cater to the rich and famous. My uncle specializes in physical rehabilitation and is one of the most sought-after injury specialists in the country. Many sports teams hire him after their star athlete has been injured. Yvie expanded their mini-empire when she started posting videos on YouTube of her teaching yoga. Now she has a full line of DVDs out, plus there’s a waiting list to take one of her classes.

  “Promise not to bite?”

  “I promise not to move,” I tell her, straight-faced. I wish I were joking. I’d give anything to lunge out of this bed and tackle her, but any such movement would kill me or leave me wishing I had died.

  She kisses my forehead and when she pulls away, she tries to hide the fact she’s crying. “I’m so happy that you’re okay.”

  “Thanks. Is Xander here?”

  Yvie nods. “He’s out in the hall with your parents and grandma.”

  “She’s here too?”

  “Of course. We wanted to be here earlier, but your dad…”

  “It’s okay. I know I wasn’t supposed to make it.”

  “We should’ve come earlier,” she says. Maybe they should’ve or not. Honestly, if she hadn’t said anything I probably wouldn’t know the difference. According to one of the nurses, because of the people I’ve had here and who they are, they’ve had to change their policy around about letting multiple visitors in a room because they didn’t want my dad, uncles and Noah harassed by the families of other patients.

  “How’s Los Angeles?” I ask, needing to change the subject. I don’t want her to feel bad. Her and Xander have a busy life, and while they never had children, the gym and their clientele keep them occupied.

  “L.A.’s great. Your dad says you’ll be spending a lot of time there.”

  “What?”

  “Peyton?”

  My eyes glance toward the door where my dad has walked in. He looks like his normal self with his cargo shorts, thermal long-sleeved shirt with some random band on it from another group and a beanie.

  “What’s she talking about, Dad?”

  “Hey, kiddo!” Xander bursts in behind my dad and rushes over to me. I brace myself for impact, but he stops in time and kisses my forehead just as Yvie did.

  “Hey… someone want to tell me what’s going on?”

  Xander looks from Yvie to my dad and now to my mom who is standing in the doorway before he settles his gaze back to me. “So, long story short, your body is messed up and I’m going to fix it.”

  “Wh-what?” I swallow down the lump that’s forming in my throat. I know I’m damaged, but I thought… well, I’m not sure exactly what I thought. That maybe I’d wake up and everything would be a dream.

  “You gotta do some extensive rehab. Lucky for you, your uncle is the best in the country.”

  “My uncle is booked solid.”

  He waves me off as if he’s not. “I’m always free for you, Peyton.”

  “Right, back to this rehab.”

  “Hi, Peyton, I’m Dr. Colby.” A woman walks in carrying a clipboard. Behind her are two nurses who are flanking my bed. “I want to say you’ve surprised everyone in the hospital with your survival and I want to apologize for my colleague’s behavior during surgery. He should’ve treated you better. With that said, because of the extent of your injuries we need to take you to surgery.”

  The lump I had earlier when Xander mentioned Los Angeles, is back only now it’s ten times larger. I look at my parents for confirmation. My dad looks pissed off and my mom looks sad. “I don’t understand.”

  “We need to reset your bones in your arm and leg. Flush the wounds on the right side of your body. Make sure your sutures are healing along your torso and head.”

  “And I have to have surgery to do this?”

  “Yes, it’s the safest way.”

  “But… but...” I don’t get a chance to finish my sentence before one of the nurse’s slips the oxygen mask over my face. The heart monitor starts beeping rapidly and my mother’s face is masked with concern. Before I realize what’s happening, my bed is yanked from the wall and portable machines are set down next to me. The doctor leads the way out of the room, and my parents are on either side of me. I desperately want to hold their hands, but it’s all but impossible.

  We come to a set of double doors, where Elle and Ben are standing. Ben leans down and kisses me on my forehead because it’s literally the only spot that doesn’t hurt on my body aside from having a headache.

  “I’ll be the first one to sign your cast,” Elle says. I know she’s trying to make me feel better, but I could honestly do without a cast, although I have a feeling the doctor was sugarcoating my injuries. I can’t feel or move my leg. That’s not normal.

  My parents are by my side through the ride down in the elevator, until we get to another set of doors. “If you’ll wait here, as soon as I’m done, I’ll be out,” the doctor says to my parents.

  Mom removes my mask and kisses me on the lips. My dad opts for my cheek. He whispers, “Don’t cry, baby girl.” I hadn’t realized I was until he mentioned it.

  “I’m scared.”

  He cups my face and looks into my eyes. “Dr. Colby is the best. We brought her in from UCLA for you. She’s going to take care of you. Mom, Elle and I will be right here.”

  “Where’s Quinn?”

  “He’ll be here, I promise.” Dad doesn’t exactly answer my question. He and Mom both kiss me again and continue to tell me they love me as I'm pushed into an operating room. The staff filters around me, no one is talking or making eye contact with me. It makes me wonder if they’re upset they have to work with a doctor who isn’t on staff here. It also has me questioning how is this possible and what did my dad have to do to make this happen.

  “I’m going to lay you back, Peyton.” One of the nurses says. “Your dad told me you’re a football fan. Why don’t you give me a list of your favorite players?”

  “Mason Powell,” I say even though she has no idea who he is. “Noah…”

  This time when I wake, there isn’t any music to soothe the panic, but I can see the Chicago skyline from my room. My leg is suspended in the air and my arm is bent and resting on my chest, only I can’t really feel my chest at the moment. I try to wiggle my toes, but the effort is too much. The soft sound of breathing catches my attention and when I look, there’s a familiar head of hair and pressure on my hip I hadn’t felt before.

  I would know Noah’s hair anywhere. When he lets it grow, which he always does for football season, there’s a slight curl to the top. I run my fingers through it, praying that my IVs don’t get caught. He moans softly and rolls his face into my non-injured leg. When his eyes open, he seems shocked.

  “You’re awake.”

  “For a few minutes now.” I also notice my oxygen mask is off but can feel air being pumped into my nose. I’m tempted to touch whatever contraption is on my face, but that would mean taking my hand away from where it dropped next to Noah’s.

  “I should go wake your parents.” He stands but stops at the sound of my voice.

  “Please don’t,” I plead. “Just stay, for a while.”

  Noah turns and looks at me. Something is different, but I can’t put my
finger on it. He leans forward, bracing a hand on either side of my head and kisses me on the lips, lingering there longer than what would be considered friendly.

  When he pulls away, he sits back down and takes my hand in his. “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to do that.”

  Sure I do, two years since you kissed me goodbye. I would never say those words to him so I let his statement hang in the air.

  “I was here, before, when you were unconscious.”

  “You were?”

  He nods. “I have so much to tell you, Peyton, but you really need your rest. I want you to be completely coherent when I say what I have to.”

  “Okay,” I whisper.

  I don’t know how long Noah and I stare at each other before I fall asleep, but when I wake again, the sun is shining and the halls are much busier than before.

  18

  Noah

  Thank God we won because seeing her baby blues is worth the shit my coach is going to give me for bailing on the press conference after the game. When the clock hit zero, I rushed off the field as fast as I could. It was completely unprofessional of me, and I could’ve easily waited since I asked my dad if I could use the band’s plane, but I wanted to get here. After the conversation with Quinn, this was where I needed to be.

  “Sorry for not calling.”

  “It’s fine. I get it.” I don’t, but the issues between Peyton and I are for us to figure out. Peyton and Dessie don’t get along, and I foolishly tried to keep them both happy, when I really should’ve focused on Peyton.

  “Nah, man. My phone died and these nurses are vicious. They have a strict no phone policy. But anyway, my parents are filing a lawsuit against the doctor who performed Peyton’s surgery. A nurse came forward and backed the claim Peyton wasn’t taken care of properly. Xander is here and he brought some doctor from Los Angeles. My parents have been fighting with the board to give this doc hospital privileges so she can go in and fix everything.”

  “What do you mean everything?”

  “Shit, Noah. Peyton’s arm’s shattered. Her leg is busted up. There’s still glass in her side and the bastard didn’t sew her up right after they cracked open her chest. Mom is really worried about infections because we haven’t been wearing gowns and we touched her, and that’s another thing. We kept moving her arm. Who knows how much pain we’ve caused or the damage we’ve done.”

  My mind goes blank, listening to Quinn. I definitely picked up her arm. I kissed the top of her hand and held it to my face. I didn’t want to let her go.

  “Son of a bitch.”

  Quinn sighs. “Anyway, she’s heading back into surgery on Sunday. It’s the only day the hospital would give the doctor.”

  Sunday, while I’m playing in a game. I push the palm of my hand into my forehead and groan. For the first time in my career, I wish I had chosen baseball. I’d be off right now. I could be sitting next to her, watching games on my iPad or filling in crossword puzzles. I don’t care if we sit and stare at each other as long as I’m spending time with her. I feel like I have so much to make up for, but don’t even know where to start, assuming that I can. The one thing I do know is I want my friend back, and with Dessie and I no longer together, it can happen.

  “Do you know what time her surgery is?”

  “I don’t, but shit, Noah…”

  “I know, Quinn. We have to think she’ll be okay. Better than ever when she gets out. I’ll be there after the game. Can you pick me up?”

  “Yeah, of course. You gonna get into trouble?”

  I sigh. “I have permission to miss practice if we win today.”

  “You better win.”

  “I will.” We hang up and I send a text to my dad, asking if I can use the private plane. It would be one thing if it were a jet, but considering the size of our family, the band opted for a full-size aircraft to haul us around when we’re all together. It’s a complete waste of airspace and fuel to cart one person. He, of course, says yes, saving me from having to depend on an airline to get me to Chicago quickly.

  Kissing her though, while completely unplanned, is worth it. It’s been two years and some odd months since prom night. I was a nervous wreck while she was calm and collected. You would’ve thought I was the one about to lose my virginity, and part of me wishes I was, but I spent years fighting my attraction to her simply because our families wouldn’t approve.

  But now I don’t care. I hate that it’s taken her accident and the threat of her dying for me to admit my true feelings for her. Surely, I’m not the first man to have a moment of clarity when he’s staring at the woman he’s loved for as long as he can remember. Those feelings for her, the ones I’ve buried deep down, hit me like a ton of bricks when I saw her in bed, barely hanging on. Waiting is no longer an option for me unless Peyton doesn’t feel the same way. If she tells me I’m crazy or we can never be together, I’ll tuck my tail between my legs and move on.

  As luck would have it, Peyton was still sleeping when I arrived. I somehow encouraged the Powell-James family to take the nurses up on their offer and use their lounge to get some sleep because even she knew they weren’t leaving Peyton in this hospital by herself, especially under the circumstances and the likely soon-to-be lawsuit.

  This time when I looked at her, I saw my future. I saw the woman I want to kiss after I win the Super Bowl, the one who will give me children, who will bear my name, lie next to me at night, listen to me complain about my aches and pains, and take every compliment I throw at her. I saw the woman who is going to keep me on my toes, call me out on my bullshit, and love me unconditionally. And I couldn’t wait to tell her.

  Except spilling my guts the moment she woke up, was not going to get me very far. She was groggy and could barely keep her eyes open, but she knew I was there, waiting for her. And waiting for her is exactly what I’m doing.

  “Here,” Harrison says, handing me a cup of coffee. “It’s from the corner coffee shop, not that nasty shit you and Quinn have been making everyone drink.”

  I smile and thank him. “We didn’t want to leave the hospital.”

  “I know. Me neither. But Ben’s here so I make him do all my errands.”

  “When’s Elle going to come clean and tell everyone they’re dating?”

  Harrison shrugs and motions for me to follow him. I glance into Peyton’s room, relieved to find she’s still sleeping. Katelyn is in there, reading to her, likely some sappy romance story about true love and second chances… a story about us more or less.

  We sit down in the waiting room, where the television is on, but the sound is muted. I look quickly to see what’s on, hoping it’s ESPN, but it’s some home makeover show that is probably all the rage right now.

  “I don’t think they’re dating.” Harrison takes a drink of his coffee and sighs. “Which is a shame because I really like the kid. And if they are, she’s hiding it really well.”

  “From the outside, it looks obvious. I mean, he’s here, right? What friend would come spend time in the ICU of a hospital?”

  “You,” Harrison points out. I want to respond with, “it’s because I love your daughter,” but I don’t.

  “I think my relationship with Peyton is a bit beyond what Elle and Ben have going on. I’ve known Peyton since she was a baby.”

  “True. So… what’s new?”

  Nice change of subject, Harrison. “Not much. We won, but it won’t be enough for the playoffs.” I shrug. Harrison wasn’t really into my sports scene when I was growing up. Sure, he came to games, but I think most of that was because Elle was a cheerleader and Peyton was on the sidelines. I know things would be different if Mason were across from me. We’d probably talk sports to pass the time, but Harrison’s life is music.

  “Your dad is really proud of you.”

  “Thanks, his support means a lot.”

  “I remember the day he came back from Beaumont. Hell, he didn’t even tell JD or I he was leaving, but he comes back with these songs and
I’m thinking ‘this bastard went and fell in love.’ It was days before I got it out of him, but man once your dad started talking he didn’t shut up. Not about you or your mom.”

  “Is that why you came to Beaumont?”

  Harrison finishes off his coffee and sets the paper cup down on the table. “Your dad invited Quinn and I to spend the holidays there. He thought that if you met Quinn, he could help you understand the lives we lead. What it’s like to have your picture taken all the time or to have people follow your every move.”

  “You fell in love with Katelyn that day.”

  “Best damn day of my life.”

  “Mine too,” I mutter. Quinn is one of my best friends and I can’t imagine not knowing him. Even if Harrison and Katelyn weren’t together, I’d know Quinn, but I don’t know if we’d be as close as we are.

  “What do you know about this Zimmerman kid?”

  I shake my head and wonder if I should tell him about the conversation I had with Kyle or not. “Not much. I think he came into the league either a year before or after me. I don’t really remember. Why?”

  Harrison runs his hands down his legs. The dude is wearing shorts and it’s freaking cold outside. Thinking back, I think the only time I’ve ever seen him in pants was for my parents’ wedding. Even for Quinn and the twins’ graduation, he wore shorts.

  “Lawyer thinks we should sue him.”

  “Mira said no charges would be pressed, right?” I must’ve watched the news conference over and over again after I found out about it. I was shocked to find out the police weren’t pursuing charges against Zimmerman, but they were against the other driver. Deeper research brought me to a few articles stating the driver was speeding.

  “Yeah the police said he’s not at fault, but--”

  “But Peyton suffered.”