Page 9 of Hot Response
“I know that, but I don’t feel hurt. I wasn’t trapped completely.” I opened my mouth to argue, but the doc cleared his throat.
“We just wanted to make sure there were no signs of internal bleeding or head injuries,” Doc shared, and she squeezed my hand.
“And what’s the diagnosis?” she asked.
“Considering everything that happened, you were a very lucky young woman.” Jack smiled. “Everything is okay.” I felt like I could take the first full breath since the call had come into the station. “I’d like to see you in two weeks for a follow-up, but other than a couple of scrapes and maybe some bruising on your back from where you were pressed against the counter, thereshouldn’t be much to worry about.” She nodded. Her eyes filled with relief I could feel radiating off the two of us in pounding waves.
She is okay. Thank fuck!
“I’m going to get my nurses to work on getting you discharged, hopefully within the hour.”
“Thanks, Doc,” I muttered.
“Thank you, Doctor,” she said as well. Jack waved before leaving the tiny makeshift room, closing the curtain behind him, giving us a little privacy. “Everything’s okay,” she broke the silence that had fallen between us.
“Yeah.” my voice rasped as I nodded. Her fingers squeezed my hand, almost like she knew I needed to feel her that much more. Our eyes connected, and I opened my mouth, but she beat me to it.
“Would you come home with me?” she blurted, and my eyes widened. “I mean… honestly, part of me doesn’t know if you even like me. Most of the time, I think you can’t stand me––“
“Can’t stand––“ I started to say, but she kept going adorably. Almost like if she didn’t keep talking, she wouldn’t be able to get the words out.
“With the way you get all growly when you come in, I mean, it’s hot, but it’s still allgrr, but then I think about how you keep coming in every morning when you know I’m working, and, well, that has to mean something, right?” Her eyes searched mine, but I was too stupidly stunned to answer. “And life’s short, you know?” she rambled.
My poor brain worked triple time to process what she was asking me to do since I didn’t have much blood left because it had all traveled south.
“And I’m just… grateful, and I really don’t want to be alone tonight. Well, I mean, I don’t think anyone ever wants to be alone all the time, but tonight…” She shook her head, hercheeks adorably brighter. “And I was thinking maybe… maybe you would like to come home with me today or tonight? I’m not really sure of the time right now.” She stared at me, and when I didn’t say anything, her hand in mine relaxed, and she slowly started to untangle her fingers from mine. There was a flash of rejection in her eyes I wanted to erase.
“Evie,” my voice rasped her name just as two nurses walked in.
“Okay, you two!” A nurse in pink scrubs grinned. “Dr. Leon said our favorite baker can go home.”
“You’ve been to my shop?”
“Of course! It’s our favorite,” the nurse in blue scrubs shared.
“I’m so sorry about what happened. But hey, that’s what insurance is for, right?” the one in pink encouraged. “I’m sure it will be better than ever before you know it.”
“Yeah,” my girl said, but I could tell she felt discouraged.
“Your man here gave us some clothes for you since the stuff you came in was pretty dusty.”
“You did?” Her eyes connected with mine.
“Yeah.” I cleared my throat. I felt like I was about to come out of my skin if I didn’t get my hands on my girl soon. Or my fucking lips on hers. “I’ll step out to give you guys a moment.” I turned and, without looking, walked out and waited on the other side of the curtain.
Evelyn wanted me to go home with her, and fucking hell, that’s exactly what I was going to do.
FIVE
EVELYN
“He’s a good one,”one of the nurses said. I smiled tightly.
They had the wrong impression of what was happening between Ronnie and me. The right thing would have been to correct them, but I didn’t. Instead, I smiled and agreed as they got me unplugged from the different machines I’d been hooked up to. One of the nurses offered to help me get dressed, but I shook my head and said I could do it myself.
To be fair, I had been sitting on the edge of the bed already and thought if I was up, I could handle dressing myself. But I was wrong. So extremely wrong.
It seemed that once all the adrenaline had rushed out, my body felt stiff as a board. Not even when I was working eighteen-hour days for a week while trying to get the bakery ready had I felt this sore. I groaned as I tried to put the oversized long-sleeved navy-blue shirt over my head, the gown covering my lap.
