Page 5 of Love JD

“I’ll call an ambulance,” another man’s voice said.

“No,” two other male voices said in unison. One of them was Tristan, and the other, I was pretty sure, was the cranky yeti who had caught my fall earlier.

I peeled open my eyes, fighting against the migraine that stabbed my retinas with every beat of my fast heartbeat. A small group of people surrounded me, but the only one I actually knew was my brother, Tristan. He stood at the back of the group, his features pinched with irritation.

“She’s tachycardic, her ankle is injured, and you just told me she suffers from a chronic case of primary dysautonomia,” a dark-haired man responded angrily. He looked like the yeti, but maybe a little more… rough. He was kneeling next to me, and I realized someone must have laid me on a couch. His dark, nearly black eyes found mine, and his brows twitched up in surprise. “Hey, Isla.”

“Hey,” I said morosely. God, I hated this. It felt like a never-ending nightmare that had plagued my life since my eighteenth birthday, and I just wanted it to go away. The embarrassment never got better.

“I’m Dr. Brady,” he said with a smile that softened some of the severity in his features. “Just sit tight while we call an amb—”

“No,” Tristan and the Yeti insisted together again. They were standing behind Dr. Brady, both of them with their arms folded.

They gave each other matching scowls. Tristan was a good four inches shorter than the bearded giant, but I was pretty sure he could take him. I didn’t know what my brother did for a living for sure, but it was sus as hell, and I’d had the misfortune of seeing his six-pack before.

Then again, my rescuer looked tighter than a drum, and the ripple of his muscles had made themselves quite evident through his white button-down.

Dr. Brady twisted to glance at them both. “Sorry, why exactly?”

“Because hospitals are the worst,” a pretty redhead stated from the couch where she sat at my feet. She held an ice pack on my ankle, but that didn’t stop it from throbbing with splintering pain.

Dr. Brady gave her a swift, stern scowl. “You shush.”

“Because the press will have a field day,” Tristan explained. “They already got a ton of pictures. I’m not giving them more ammo to light up and explode in our faces.”

Accurate, I thought glumly.

The yeti added, “They already think I fucked her, so we should—”

Dr. Brady turned and punched the yeti in the thigh. Hard. “Language.”

My rescuer hissed, doubling over and glaring daggers at the doctor. He had a nicely trimmed, short beard that faded smoothly up his jaw, and it contrasted with the bright blue of his eyes. “Ow.”

“I don’t care what the press says, this girl needs an X-ray and, at the very least, fludrocortisone and IV fluids,” the doctor said with a look my way. It made me feel vaguely guilty for… existing.

“I just need a sports drink,” I piped up finally.

All eyes latched onto me, and I shrank into the couch, my heartbeat skyrocketing. I hated that. I hated being watched or fussed over. It made me nervous, and when I got nervous…

“Okay, everyone out,” Tristan ordered suddenly.

But rather than the room emptying of occupants, a person burst through a pair of cream, delicately distressed French doors. I realized I was lying in what looked like a bridal suite, and I’d likely interrupted this entire wedding.

Stay calm, I told myself. I closed my eyes, cognizant of all the eyes assessing me closely, but I tried to tune them out. Deep breaths. You’re on a beach. A soothing beach.

“I have clothing,” Azura announced.

I popped my eyes open again and looked down at myself. I was still wearing the big guy’s jacket. Fuck my life.

“Thanks, Az,” Tristan said with nauseating sweetness.

I liked Azura, even if I didn’t fully understand how she and Tristan had met in the first place. One minute, Tristan had been on assignment in Alaska, and the next, he had come home with Azura like he’d found her in the woods. It was weird. Still, they really seemed to love each other, and I was a little envious of that. It wasn’t possible for me to experience a relationship like that, and I tried not to be bitter about it, but being around them was painful for that reason.

She brought me a white sweater and a pair of brown, drawstring-style shorts with brisk purposefulness. “I figured this would be easy enough to put on even with your injuries.” Azura looked small and dainty, but she walked with the aggressive assurance that she was in charge, and I really loved that about her. She knelt next to the handsome doctor and elbowed him roughly. “Get out of the way, Amos. You’re smothering her.”

“He does that,” the redhead commented sourly.

“Okay, Peanut Gallery, that’s enough out of you.” Dr. Brady stood and hooked his hand around the young woman’s arm. He helped her stand, and it was only then I realized she was very pregnant.

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