Page 16 of Push

“Hey…Ian?”

No answer.

Rolling the stiffness out of my shoulders, I blinked at my watch.

2:54 p.m.

Holy…

The world swayed under my feet when I stood up. A fumble in my back pocket, and I grabbed my phone. I’d missed work for the first time in my life, and even if Ian had smoothed over my disappearing act with Gwen, she’d be furious. I’d better call. I thumped the buttons on my phone, but the screen stayed black.

“Shit!”

I lurched forward, half awake, my feet dragging me to Ian’s room. I stuck my head in the door. A mess of rumpled sheets stared back. He’d probably headed to work.

I walked over to the nightstand, pulled open the drawer, and rummaged around for a charger. The foil strip of condoms wasn’t something I needed to see—no thanks to that mental image. A white cord peeked from under a well-worn copy ofLonesome Dove. Boom! I shifted the book, but my hand stopped cold over the stack of photos Ian had stuck inside as a bookmark.

“What the…”

After a guilty glance over my shoulder, I peeled open the book and sifted through the vacation snaps from a trip to Hawaii years ago. Ian… Then me… Another one of us holding surfboards and grinning like idiots because we hadn’t been dunked by the waves yet. My eyes narrowed. One of Gwen. I stared at the only photo I’d ever seen of her without the ridiculous floral sheet she’d insisted on wearing around the resort.

“It’s for sun protection,” she’d huffed, smacking my hand away when I’d danced sneaky fingertips underneath.

Warmth bloomed in my chest. The photo was beautiful. The sunset glowed behind Gwen’s pale, long limbs, her spine dipping into luscious curves barely covered by a teeny blue bikini.

Sorry, buddy, this lovely lady is for my eyes only.

I slipped the picture of Gwen into my pocket, grabbed the charger, snapped the drawer shut, and headed for the kitchen. I probably should’ve thrown my ass into the shower. One sniff of my shirt, and I nearly passed out all over again from the stench of booze.

Why had I let myself get so carried away?

Sighing, I stuck my phone on the charger and leaned my hip against the counter. Yesterday had been a long day on top of a hundred long days. Starting the clinic with Ian had seemed like a good idea two years ago, but the responsibilities of being my own boss weighed heavier than any of the freedom he’d promised.

God,whatfreedom?

I worked twelve hours a day, six days a week, to barely make ends meet. The trust fund my father had set up and Gwen’s financial savvy kept us afloat. Thank God. No matter how much I worked, the clinic was in the red.

My phone pinged.

Back in business.

I bent over the counter to check what I’d missed. My eyes widened. A flood of notifications drowned the screen. Messages. Missed calls. I went straight to Gwen’s name and scrolled to the last message I remembered. The photo of Noah’s four tiny chompers in a cheeky smile beamed back. I’d shoved that picture in front of the girls manning front reception to show off how cute he was, but I’d never responded to Gwen, not even with a sunglasses emoji or a love heart.

My side of the messages was blank.

Gwen’s wasn’t.

Fair Lady Gwendolyn

Toby, please call me.

I hate doing this in a message. We’ve been in an accident.

My heart stopped in my chest.

“Oh, fuck!”

I ripped my phone out of the wall and sprinted out of the kitchen. The slam of the front door was a second after I’d already punched the elevator button. Waiting for the ding, my eyes raced back to the messages.

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