“Nah, the doctor’s hot.”
I laughed. The action hurt my ribs and I groaned.
Claire rushed from the room, leaving me alone. I wondered how she found me, how she knew I was here. I wondered how long I lay on the side of the road before someone came by and called for help.
I wondered what Gavin was doing and if he was okay.
I shifted and a bandage slid onto my forehead. I pushed it back up, resting my head against the uncomfortable pillow on the bed.
I heard some commotion outside the door and I turned, listening to a few raised, muffled voices. Seconds later, the door swung open and someone rushed in. Gavin skidded to a halt, stopping near the end of the bed.
I felt my eyes widen as shock rippled through me. “Gavin,” I rasped, pushing myself up to sit. My wrist ached and I slid a little, falling to the side. He came forward immediately, gently sliding his arm around my back and helping me right myself.
He looked awful. Red-rimmed eyes, wild hair, haggard cheeks, and wrinkled clothes. I was still trying to get used to him with clothes. Today’s selection was low-riding jeans (first time I’d ever seen him in jeans) and a navy T-shirt.
“Hey,” he said softly, adjusting the blankets around my waist. “How are you feeling?”
“I’ve been better.”
He perched on the side of the bed, concern plain on his face. Even looking the way he did, he was still beautiful. My heart ached seeing him here, seeing him show concern over someone he didn’t love.
He picked up my wrist and applied two fingers to the inside, as if he were feeling for a pulse. “Headache? Muscle aches? Nausea?”
“Uhh,” I said, trying to keep up.
Another man walked into the room, this one wearing a doctor’s coat and being followed by Claire. She gave me a look that said she wanted to know details as soon as we were alone.
“Gavin,” the doctor said, “let me do my job.”
“Her pulse is elevated,” he said, looking up to stare into my eyes. “Pupils seem to be normal.”
“Gavin,” the doc said again, “you don’t work here anymore.”
Work here? Gavin used to work here? Was he a doctor?
“You don’t think I know that?” Gavin said, getting up from the bed to stare at the doctor.
Claire was right. He was hot. He had very dark hair, practically black, and light, icy-blue eyes. His face was clean-shaven (unlike Gavin’s) and his jaw was square.
“You should wait outside,” hottie doctor said to Gavin.
“Stitch, you know I can’t do that.”
Stitch? Wasn’t that who called him the other day when I was at his place? My head started to throb worse than before. My mind was swimming. I was so confused. What the hell was going on?
“You’re not even supposed to be in here,” Stitch said tightly.
“You know me,” Gavin said, as if that made his trespassing okay.
You know me. I didn’t realize how three small, insignificant words could hurt so much. The doctor knew Gavin? He knew him in ways I didn’t, in ways that I likely never would.
“You aren’t related to her, man. You have no connection. Wait outside.”
Claire looked at me with big, round eyes. She was totally eating this up. Gavin made a sound in the back of his throat and turned toward the door, but he didn’t go through. He tightened his fists at his sides like it was physically painful for him to leave.
“He can stay,” I said, earning everyone’s gaze.
Gavin turned back, relief written all over his exhausted face.
“Are you sure?” the doctor said.
I nodded.
Stitch sighed and approached my side. He performed a quick but thorough exam, checking my vitals and asking me a lot of the same questions that Gavin was firing off when he first bound into the room.
“You were very lucky,” Stitch said, pulling back when he was done looking me over. “Some minor cuts and bruises, a sprained wrist, bruised ribs, and a hard knock on the head.”
“Do you remember the accident?” Claire asked, coming up beside the doctor.
“The roads were slippery,” I recalled. “I think I lost control of the car.”
“It flipped over and rolled down the bank and landed partially in the sound,” Gavin said from the other side of the room. His voice was dark and low.
“How did I get here?” I asked, looking at Claire.
She glanced over her shoulder at Gavin.
“I brought you in.”
“You?” I said, shocked. Everyone looked at Gavin, waiting for him to offer more information. He didn’t.
I looked at Claire. “How did you know I was here, then?”
“When you didn’t show up at my place and your cell kept going straight to voicemail, I got worried. You didn’t sound good last time we talked,” she said, lowering her voice. “So I drove out here, went to Aunt Ruth’s. He was there.”
“Gavin?”
“I was getting you some clothes and stuff, checking on Salty,” he muttered. “Your clothes weren’t there.”
“They were in the car with me.”
He grunted.
Claire once again gave me a look that said I owed her a bunch of answers.
I sighed wearily. My whole body hurt. I glanced at Stitch. “I don’t think the pain medicine you gave me is working.”
Gavin stiffened and pushed away from the wall to come forward. “Are you in pain?”
“A little.”
“I’d like to finish her exam alone,” Stitch said, his voice leaving no room at all for negotiation.
“I’ll be right outside,” Claire said, letting herself out.
Gavin was slower to comply, but eventually he left, not saying if he was staying or not.
“Now that they’re gone, do you mind telling me how you really feel?”
“Like hell.”
He smiled. “Yeah, that sounds accurate.”
“I’m really going to be okay?” I asked him. He was an easy guy to talk to. I didn’t feel awkward around him at all. I wondered if that was because he knew Gavin.
“I don’t see any reason not to be optimistic.”
“Spoken like a true doctor.”
“Hey, they don’t hand out these white coats to just anyone.”
I smiled.
“Ms. Ronson—” He began, but I cut him off.
“Talie,” I said.
“Talie.” He corrected. “Are you having any kind of cramping or discomfort in your abdominal area?”