Page 64 of Act Like You Don't Care
I sat up and put my clothes together before I asked. “So?”
The doctor smiled genially at me. “Well, the good news is that everything looks healthy in there. The bad news is that you’re borderline for the chemical method alone in terms of development, which means we’ll have to schedule you for an outpatient procedure to be sure it works. Now, that can be done right here in the clinic, it’s very quick. You’ll come in early in the day, have the procedure and spend the night in one of our suites, then go home the next day and take it easy for about a week. No heavy lifting, no extreme exercise, but otherwise, life goes on as normal. I’ll have the nurse book you in and we’ll get you fixed up and back to work in no time.”
I nodded numbly and let him help me down off the table, for the first time in my life without protesting it. That shaky feeling was back again and I took a deep breath, using the moment to calm myself and paint a pleasant expression on my face. The doctor either didn't notice anything or he was used to people being upset coming in here. I didn't think I cared which it was, I just wanted to get out.
They told me at the desk that they'd call me with my appointment and I walked out of the building wondering when that numb feeling in my chest would fade.
I drove blindly for a time, not really thinking, just taking turns and following streets wherever they took me. Or, at least, that's what I thought I was doing.
The sign for the San Diego airport loomed in front of me and, in a flurry of raised fingers and blaring horns, I cut across traffic and floored it in the direction of the terminal.
I left the car in the parking garage, grabbed the bag I'd packed for my weekend of romance, and rolled in to the ticket counters. "I need a ticket to Maine," I told the young man behind the counter. "Next flight going."
He took my driver's license, looked at it then up at me, and back down at the license while I fidgeted and reminded myself that it was rude to tap my fingers on the counter.
"Are you...?" he asked in a hushed voice.
"Yes. Shhh." I said, raising one finger to my lips. "It's a surprise trip. Going to Oceanport."
"That would be Rockland Airport," the young man whispered back after some furious tapping on his keyboard. "Did you want first class?"
"Whatever. Just need a seat."
"We have one boarding in about ten minutes, with a layover in Boston. If you run, you might just get there in time."
"I'll take it." Moments later, I had my ticket in hand and the young man who'd sold it to me had an autograph on a scrap of paper he’d found in his desk. Then I was racing through the airport like it was a scene from one of my movies, dodging travelers and counting gates until I landed at the boarding area.
"Just in time," the attendant said, checked my ID again, and sent me on my way.
I fell into my seat in the first-class section with relief, then wondered what the hell I thought I was doing.
Going home, a little voice said. Getting a different perspective.
Seeing family.
Tam
Igot off the plane after a too-long layover and far too much airport food and slunk through the crowd, my hat pulled right down to my eyebrows and my sunglasses on to hide my eyes. Totally different from my last visit to Oceanport for Nick's and Shane's weddings. Then, I'd been doing my best to be noticed. It was good PR and a favor for Shane, whose intended husband was a Hollywood veteran like me, only Kade was trying to keep his family on a low profile.
Today, I was doing my best to stay even farther under the radar than Kade had wanted to be. Luckily, this was Maine. The hat and sunglasses wouldn't have fooled anyone in L.A., but I got hardly a second glance as I strolled through Rockport airport. It probably helped that I looked like crap today.
Damn, I should have called Nick and had him come pick me up.So, lesser of two evils—call Nick and wait for him to get here, or take whatever rental car I could get and get outed at the rental desk?
Call Nick. I could hide outside the airport. Or in the bathroom. Somewhere.
I pulled my phone out, ignored the voicemail notification at the top of the screen, and found Nick's contact info.
The phone rang a couple of times and my stomach twisted, wondering if he'd answer. We knew each other—we were cousins, after all—but once I'd gotten him set up in L.A. back when he'd first moved, we hadn't spent much time together. I was busy and, to be honest, trying to avoid typically omega things. Including hanging out with other omegas.
This was going to be awkward.
"Tam?" Nick's voice sounded in my ear.
"Yeah, it's me," I said and paused by the luggage carousel even though I hadn't checked anything, glanced around, then backed away from the crowd forming as they waited for their suitcases. "Could you do me a favor? Are you busy right now?"
"No, not really. Why?"
"Can you come pick me up at the airport?"
