Page 72 of Rules in Love
Thank fuck I didn’t leave.I snorted out a laugh, and my hand returned to hers. “Hey, yourself.”I promise Iwon’t let go again.
Logically, I knew that was a promise I couldn’t keep, but God’s will, evil scheming, or convenient coincidence meant I would be able to hold it for the rest of the day, maybe the weekend too.
Scarlett’s MRI came back all clear, and she was to be discharged that evening on one condition—she was not to be left alone.
It thrilled me to no end that she refused to stay at Brett’s, so that left only me and one other person. Teddy. He popped into the hospital around three but was mysteriously unavailable to play nurse. Who could say if my dragging him from the room, placing him in a playful but threatening headlock, and promising he would come to suffer further physical harm if he so much as offered to watch over her had anything to do with it? All I had to do then was sort out where to take Scarlett. My house or hers? We were in the midst of deciding this when Daddy Pig’s grunts alerted me to a message.
Evie: Jocie and I are kidnapping Iris and having a girls-only mini-break in Tarrytown. See you Sunday night, Nurse Finn.
Normally, I would be super pissed. But the prospect of a whole weekend with Scarlett was too good an opportunity to miss.
Me: Thanks, Eves. I’m going to be staying at Scarlett’s.
By six-thirty, we were in Scarlett’s house, approaching her bedroom, and still hand in hand. My hospital-induced anxiety was well-hidden, if not altogether gone, and I was selfishly thrilled, maybe even giddy. Not because Scar was injured and needed me, of course. I would never want her to feel pain, but the thought of being in her house, in her room, alone… I would be lying if I said I wasn’t happy.
“Here we are again,” I said, pausing outside her closed bedroom door.
Scarlett smiled sheepishly, kept walking, and then came to a stop about five paces away at the end of the hall. “Thanks for staying with me, Finn. I’m not sure why Teddy couldn’t, but it’s kind of nice to have some more time together…even if I do look like Frankenstein’s monster.”
“You do not. You’re cute as a button.” To be honest, many people may not have agreed. But to someone as besotted as me, Scarlett was still the most beautiful woman in the world. Swollen lip, bruised, stitched forehead, and all.
The nail-biting began as she looked at the door behind her. “God, this is so embarrassing, Finn. That door you’re at, the one we spent the night in…it’s not my room. This is, and well…if the state of my face doesn’t scare you off,itmight.”
The four-panel timber door swung open, and I stepped inside. “Wow, this is…”
“A pigsty?”
“Yes. That’s the word I’m looking for.” Not once in my life had I had anxiety-induced hives, but fighting the need to bleach that room was so strong I swear I could feel each individual spot breaking out.
“Thanks for being honest. It makes me almost believe what you said about my face.”
“Scarlett Grant.” I grabbed her hand, raised it to my lips, and kissed the soft flesh on the inside of her wrist, something I discovered she enjoyed last night. I also kept an eye on the floor because I swore I saw something move. “I am being honest about your face. So what if you have stitches and a bit of bruising? Nothing can conceal your beauty. It’s irrepressible. Also, do you have a hamster?”
“I’m not sure why you’re asking that. But no, I don’t have a hamster.” Scarlett began to kick a path to her bed and led me in. “Since you don’t think I look like a freak, and my room didn’t make you run, I need to remind you of something.”
“A tetanus booster?” I asked in all seriousness.
“No, not a bloody tetanus booster. This is not needle-related. It’s lip-related.”
“Oh. I like your lips.”
“Good. I like yours too. That’s why I wanted to remind you that we haven’t kissed almost all day.”
“Trust me. I am well aware of that. I want to remedy it immediately. I really, really want to, but what about your lip?”
“Fuck my lip. After I shower and sterilize my teeth ten times, you should take off your shirt and kiss me.”
Like every man should, I did what I was told.
“I hope it’s okay to ask… I’m just curious. We’ve talked a lot about my family, but not yours. I know they passed away when you were a little kid, but would you tell me what you remember about them?”
Scarlett lay on my bare chest. An ice pack covered one temple, my fingers stroking the hair on the other. She’d managed to grab a few hours of sleep, but the painkillers administered in the hospital were wearing off, and the plain old aspirin and ibuprofen combo was doing little to ease the throbbing pain. I’d been telling her about Mum and Dad and their dancing in the kitchen while they cooked and shaming us by kissing in front of our friends. It was serving a dual purpose for me, learning more about this most magnificent creature and divulging pieces of myself. For her, it was maybe the same but also a distraction. The mood had been light. But the dark and heavy storm clouds rolled in at the mere mention of her past.
“How you and I deal with grief is like two people looking at a hologram. It’s the same picture, but viewed from such different angles, the image reflected is completely different. You’ve said talking about your parents helps keep them alive. Maybe that’s because even though they died too young, they had lived an amazing life. They’d known true love and watched their kids grow up. My mum and dad were just beginning. They never got a chance to have more kids or to see me grow. Remembering the good times is hard because I feel so guilty about everything they missed. That I missed.”
“Like dancing in the kitchen and embarrassing your kids with public affection?”
“Yeah. Stuff like that,” she whispered, snuggling against me. As I kissed the top of her head, my mind conjured an image. Scarlett in my arms, me wiping pasta sauce from her rosy cheek as we swayed to the music. It was so real I could hear it…You to me are everything.“My mum, Sofia, was Spanish. She had red curly hair like me, and I can remember her calling meGordita. Chubby girl. And I was too. I had the fattest cheeks. I remember Dad, Christopher Benjamin Grant, had brown hair like Ben, and he was really tall. He used to carry me on his shoulders everywhere and pass lollies up to me. I guess that’s why I was gordita. Oh, and Mum had the most amazing laugh.”
