Dangerous Dreams

by Roxanne Riley

  Another person steps into the room and my heart leaps again, but to my disappointment, the guy walking in is in street clothes, not scrubs. “Hey, Cody, Lumi’s asking for you.”

  The young man’s face lights up and he springs to his feet. He excuses himself and he and the other stranger disappear down the hallway.

  Griffin sighs and hesitates for a moment, but finally sits in the chair beside me. “I assume they filled you in?” he asks coolly.

  “Yeah. Griffin, right?” I ask, reminding him that I’ve never actually introduced myself.

  He nods. “Yeah. Griffin Wells.”

  “Phillip Bauer. We’ve sort of met before, but not officially.” I offer him a hand to shake.

  He looks at it like it’s a snake rearing to bite him, but after a moment’s hesitation, he shakes it.

  His grip is warm and firm, and I feel a shock run through me that I can’t explain. His gaze locks on mine and there’s something I can’t puzzle out, a confused fear that’s gone as quickly as it appeared.

  “So you came all the way down here to see her, huh?” he grits out.

  “Of course.”

  “Pretty nice, for a coworker you’ve only known a few weeks,” he hedges.

  “Yeah, well, I like Aurora. She’s a special girl, and I’m worried about her.”

  “Yeah,” he sighs, “She is.”

  There’s something strangely defeated to his demeanor. “She likes you, too, you know,” he admits.

  “Is that why you hate my guts?” I ask him.

  He looks startled. “What? I don’t-“

  “Come on, dude, I’m not an idiot,” I chide him, “You look at me like I’m something you want to scrape off the bottom of your shoe.”

  A sheepish look passes over his face. “It’s nothing personal.”

  I snort. “The hell it’s not. Why don’t you just tell her how you feel?”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” he asks, immediately defensive. “You don’t fucking know me.”

  “No, but I have eyes,” I tell him drily.

  “You’re delusional.”

  “Whatever you say,” I shrug.

  There’s a long silence between us before finally he asks: “Who’s Sara?”

  “Huh?”

  “Your tattoo,” he gestures at the script on my forearm, “Ex-girlfriend or something?”

  I glance down at the swirling black ink and shake my head. “My mother. She killed herself when I was fifteen.”

  Griffin’s face blanches. “Oh, shit, man, I’m sorry.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I found my brother, when I was fourteen,” he says quietly, “Hung himself. He was seventeen, about to graduate high school.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” I tell him, horrified by the thought, “That’s awful.”

  I can’t imagine that kind of horror, finding someone you love that way. I’d wondered for years how my father had coped, but for it to happen to Griffin when he was just a kid?

  “Look, I’m sorry, man,” Griffin says suddenly, “You’re right, I’ve been a dick to you for no reason. You’re just bringing up some confusing shit for me.”

  “It’s ok, I get it,” I admit, “I can’t say I’d be any better in your shoes.”

  “And look, I-“ his voice shakes a little, “If she pulls through this, I’m not gonna stand in your way. She deserves to be happy, and if you make her happy, then that’s all I care about.”

  His words tug at my heartstrings. He loves her with everything he’s got, and he’s seriously willing to walk away for her happiness.

  Weirdly, it only makes him more attractive to me.

  “You don’t have to make it some all-or-nothing thing like that, do you?” I ask him, “I mean, you make it sound like you’re just going to disappear when she wakes up.”

  He snorts. “What, like I’m just supposed to pal around and be buddy-buddy with the woman I love and the man she’s with? Thanks, but I’ll pass. And besides, you’re telling me you’re just fine with that? You don’t care?”

  I shrug. “What can I say? I’m not a jealous guy.”

  His eyebrows shoot up.

  “If humans were meant to be monogamous, cheating wouldn’t exist,” I say simply, “I don’t think ‘the one’ is a thing.”

  “I’m sure the girls you date love that,” he says drily.

  “Not just girls,” I correct him, “But it’s not like I’m a sleaze, I don’t just fuck around on people or anything. It’s all about honesty.”

  His eyebrows shoot up. “You’re-oh, I didn’t know.”

  “Yeah,” I shrug, “It’s not really publicized because I just don’t want it to be a huge deal. But yeah, I swing both ways.”

  “So what, you honestly have people who are just cool with you dating other people at the same time?” he asks, sounding perplexed.

  “Well, not right now, but I’ve done it in the past, yeah. Had a girlfriend and a guy I was seeing at the same time. It wasn’t anything serious, and it didn’t last, but it was fun.”

  “Can I ask you something kind of personal?” he asks.

  A laugh erupts from my mouth. As if this whole conversation hasn’t been personal as hell. “Yeah, go ahead.”

  “How did you know? That you like dudes?”

  I think about it for a moment, but I don’t have a good answer for him. “I don’t know, I feel like it was something I’ve just always known. I’ve just always looked at men and women the same way, and felt the same kind of draw.”

  “Is it always like that? Split 50/50?”

  “Definitely not,” I shake my head, “Bi is a huge spectrum of sexuality, and lots of people have preferences that lean more to one side or the other.”

  He looks thoughtful, and it makes me wonder. But before he can ask another question, his phone starts to ring and he steps away to answer it.

  Chapter Nine

  Griffin

  Two Weeks Later

  It’s strange how quickly you can adjust to a “new normal.” It no longer feels alien to spend my day in a hospital room, sitting at Rory’s bedside.

  But no matter how normal the routine is, I can’t get used to the lack of Rory’s presence. Two weeks without her voice, her laugh, I haven’t even gotten to look into those beautiful eyes I love so fucking much, and it’s killing me.

  I’m sitting here this morning, her hand in mine, and I’m so exhausted I feel it down to my bones. I’ve haven’t gotten a decent night’s sleep since I got that call from the hospital.

  I stroke my thumb over the back of her hand. Her golden hair around her face on the pillow glows like a halo, and while she’s as beautiful as ever, I can’t help but find the sight haunting.

  Her doctor says that her body’s been responding about as well as can be expected, but that now all we can do is sit around and wait for her to regain consciousness. I feel so fucking helpless.

  Weirdly enough, though, I’ve kind of ended up turning to Pretty Bo-Phillip. He’s not a bad dude, and he’s been here every single day.

  I wasn’t kidding when I told him he was stirring up some confusing shit, though. And that stupid little fucking talk we’d had hadn’t exactly helped.

  “What the fuck’s wrong with me, Ror?” I ask aloud.

  I don’t know if she can hear me, and some small part of me feels stupid, but I can’t help it.

  If I were gay, I’d know it, right? If I really liked men, surely I’d have figured that out by now. But the more time I spend around Phillip, the more confused I am.

  I’m in love with Rory. I can’t be gay if I’m in love with a woman, right? But I can’t stop thinking about Phillip’s remark about a spectrum.

  Maybe it’s just the connection to her. I’m attracted to him because he reminds me of her and I’m missing her. That’s all it is, right?

  “I don’t know what to do with myself without you here, Rory,” I say softly, “I feel so fucking lost.”

  I’m met with silen
ce, and while it’s what I expected, suddenly it’s almost more than I can stand. “Please,” I beg, my voice breaking, “Please wake up, Rory, I need you.”

  I wipe roughly at the tears streaming down my face, gritting my teeth. “I’ll do anything, Rory, you name it, just please come back to me,” A sob rips out of my throat and I bow my head into the side of the mattress, my shoulders heaving, “Please wake up, Rory, I can’t fucking do this without you. I love you so goddamn much, you crazy brat, please just open your fucking eyes.”

  I lift my head to look, hoping that some magic miracle is going to open her eyes, that she’ll smile at me and everything is going to be ok, but those long brown lashes still curl over her cheeks.

  It makes me crazy to see her like this, like she’s just sleeping peacefully, but I can’t wake her up. Even with her hand in mine, it feels like she’s a thousand miles away from me. “Please, Rory, please,” I beg, “Just wake up. For me, for Lumi…fuck, do it for Phillip if that’s what it takes, please…”

  I feel a hand on my shoulder and jump, startled. Phillip is standing beside me, and I hastily scrub the tears from my face, embarrassed. “How long have you been standing there?”

  “Long enough. Come on, man, let’s go get you a cup of coffee, ok?” he guides me to my feet, and I follow him down the hall on autopilot.

  I sit down in a chair while Phillip drops some quarters into the coffee machine and after a few moments, passes me a paper cup. I take a gulp immediately and the searing hot liquid scalds my tongue.

  “Fuck, dude, give it a sec, that shit comes out like lava,” Phillip says, eyes widening.

  “It’s fine,” I mumble, “Thanks.”

  I realize that he’d added sugar. Two packets, and I’m kind momentarily surprised that he’d been paying that close attention and remembered.

  “Maybe you ought to go get some rest, man, you’ve barely left the hospital since she got here. The world’s not gonna stop spinning if you sleep in a real bed for a night,” he says.

  “I know, I just…” I sigh, “I wanna be here when she wakes up. I don’t want to leave and then get the call that she woke up alone and scared, you know what I mean?”

  “Yeah, but if you don’t get some fucking rest, you’re gonna end up in here, too,” he says, folding his arms over his chest.

  “I’m fine, I get sleep in the chair.”

  “Griffin,” Phillip sighs, and I’m surprised by the concern in the sound, “Come on, you know you’re running yourself down.”

  “What do you care?” I snap.

  I immediately regret being a dick, but between the exhaustion and the confusion that Phillip brings with him, I’m just feeling a little overwhelmed. Just the sound of my name on his lips is enough to make my cock jump in my jeans.

  He confuses the shit out of me, and I know I’ve lashed out because of it, and it’s not fair. It’s not his fault I don’t know how to cope with suddenly figuring out that I might be queer.

  I like that word for it, though. Homosexual, gay, bisexual, just thinking about all the fucking labels makes me feel like a soup can. I’m not an object that needs to be put in a box, so I like the vagueness of “queer.”

  “I’m not going to apologize for giving a shit about you, Griffin,” Phillip says, taking my outburst in stride.

  I take another swig of coffee, and this time the liquid has cooled a little, so it no longer sears the inside of my mouth.

  “I’m not telling you to fly back to Toronto, man, but a decent night’s sleep would do you some good. And a decent shower, you stink like that fucking hospital soap.”

  “Look, Phillip, I know you’re just trying to help, but I’m not leaving her. I can’t,” my throat tightens and my voice cracks, and I take a giant swig to cover my embarrassment.

  He sighs. “Ok, ok,” he holds up his hands in a placating gesture, “But I don’t want to have to come here and visit you, too.”

  I let out a bitter chuckle. “Why would you bother? I’m just some dick you’ve gotten stuck with.”

  Phillip falls silent, and after a moment, I look at him. To my surprise, his face is red and he’s directing his gaze away from me. “I already told you I give a shit about you, Griffin, you’re not just ‘some dick’.”

  There’s a long pause. I don’t know what to say. My ears are ringing and my pulse is racing, and I don’t fully know why. “We, uh, we should get back,” I stammer, lurching to my feet.

  I throw back the last few gulps in the little paper cup and toss it in a trash can before heading back down the hall, carefully avoiding Phillip’s gaze. I’m afraid of what might happen if I look at him right now. Tension crackles between us like heat lightning, and I’m unbelievably fucking confused.

  When we make our way back to Rory’s room, Phillip pulls up a chair beside mine. When I slide my hand into Rory’s, he surprises me by reaching out, too, and putting his hand over both of ours.

  I feel like my body is frozen, but when I finally manage to thaw enough to move, I slowly turn my head to face Phillip.

  There’s something nervous in his face, and oddly enough, the sight makes my nerves diminish somewhat. It feels like slow motion, his face slowly moving closer and closer until finally, his lips brush over mine and I feel my whole world shatter into a million pieces.

  His free hand comes up to cup the back of my head, pulling me closer, and fire races through my veins. It’s different than kissing a woman, harder, rougher. I can feel the scrape of his stubble on my skin, taste the salt of his…

  For just a moment, I forget everything around me. I forget the tangled mess we’re in, I forget that Rory might be asleep for years, all I can think about is the heat flooding my body and the man making this happen.

  At least, I forget until I feel a hand stirring in mine.

  I tear away from Phillip, and the shock on his face tells me he felt it, too. We look at the bed in front of us, and my heart leaps out of my fucking chest. Rory’s lids are fluttering and she makes a soft sound, trying to speak, but her voice is hoarse from disuse and dryness.

  “Holy shit!” Phillip exclaims, “I’ll get a nurse!”

  He darts from the room, leaving me alone with Rory for a moment. She opens her eyes fully and I feel like my heart is going to burst from joy. “Rory…”

  “G-Griff,” she croaks hoarsely, “Wha-?” her voice fails her and she coughs.

  “Don’t try to talk yet, as soon as the nurse is here, I’m gonna see if we can get you some water, ok?”

  She nods, looking around, and I squeeze her hand comfortingly.

  I love her so fucking much it makes my chest hurt, and it takes all of my willpower not to tell her so, not to plant a kiss on those perfect, petal-pink lips. But then I remember that not five minutes ago, I was lip-locked with her co-star, and I realize that I probably have some shit to figure out before I drag her into it.

  But for now, I’m just so fucking happy that her eyes are open.

  Chapter Ten

  Rory

  One Week Later

  “Do I seriously need to be in a wheelchair? There’s nothing wrong with my legs, I feel ridiculous,” I whine as Griffin wheels me down the hallway.

  “Hospital policy, babe,” my nurse, Marina, replies cheerfully, “Besides, how can you really complain when you’ve got hotties like these to wheel you around and wait on you hand and foot?” she winks at Griffin and Phillip, who grin.

  The redhead is a giant flirt, and my absolute favorite member of the hospital staff. When I woke up from the coma, to my surprise, my normally chewed-up fingernails were carefully filed into short ovals, and painted to look like tiny seashells. Apparently Marina had come in on her day off and spent the afternoon giving me a manicure, just so I would have something pretty to make me smile when I woke up.

  “Maybe if you ask nicely, I’ll share one of them with you,” I tease her.

  Marina laughs. “Somehow I doubt that,” she replies, “And these two are hopelessly devoted to you,”
she breaks into song on the last few words, a tune I recognize from Grease.

  I shake my head and laugh. No matter how many times I’ve told her that it’s not like that, she continues to act like Griffin and Phillip are just lovesick puppies.

  We finally make it out to the car, and she helps me to my feet. “So, Rory, much as I’ve loved having you here…don’t come back, ok?”

  I laugh. “I’ll do my best.”

  To my surprise, she throws her arms around me, giving me a tight hug. I hug her back, my heart swelling, and when she releases me, she and Griffin help me into the car. “Seriously?” I complain when Griffin tries to buckle my seatbelt for me.

  Marina snickers. “Good luck with that,” she says, and I honestly can’t tell who’s she’s talking to.

  She turns to leave and Griffin and Phillip get in the car. It’s weird to see them all buddy-buddy like they have been, but apparently I woke up in some Twilight Zone where they like each other now?

  I’ve kind of been filled in on what happened, Isabella poisoning us, and I still don’t fully believe it. I mean, honestly, what kind of fucked-up fairytale villain shit is that?

  Apparently she’d been caught while I was still unconscious. Lumi had come to visit me the first day I woke up, and had told me everything.

  She’d apologized profusely, too, for some stupid reason, even though none of it was even remotely her fault. Her dad even came by to visit, and offered his apologies, too, and honestly, my heart broke for the poor man. He’d lost his first love, then nearly lost his daughter at the hands of his next?

  He had nothing to apologize to me for, either, and I told him so.

  “So…where exactly are we going?” I ask.

  “Phillip’s place,” Griffin says.

  I nod. “When are we going to head back to Toronto?”

  “Don’t worry about that right now,” Phillip replies, “We’ll head back when you’re back to a hundred percent.”

  “They wouldn’t have let me out of the hospital if I wasn’t good to go,” I protest, “I can’t just sit around doing nothing.”