Page 19 of Every Single Wildflower
“Let’s?” I flip the light off, following him out into the hall. “I can drive myself.”
“It’s dark now. That stretch of road is dangerous.” He keeps talking, not even looking at me. “I’ll drive you.”
“That won’t be necessary,” I tell him, before I’m picking up my purse that I had tossed onto the entry table of the office.
His large palm presses against the door as he opens it for me. I ignore him, stalking through as I type out a text to my brothers.
I stop dead in my tracks when I get an immediate response.
Me: Dad is awake. I’m going up there.
Cooper: I’m already on my way. Ryder is already there. Maddox will drive you.
Me: I don’t need him to drive me.
Cooper: He’s driving you. Your eyes suck at night.
Me: I have glasses.
Cooper: Did you bring them?
I take a moment to reply, my teeth sinking into the side of my mouth.
Cooper: That’s what I thought. You weren’t wearing them last night. No night driving for you.
I swear they hover more than a stage five helicopter mom. You hit one deer and total a Ford F150 and all of a sudden you can’t drive at night.
When I glance up, Maddox is holding the door open to his truck.
“Let’s go. I don’t have all night.”
Chapter fourteen
Maddox
My hands grip the steering wheel while I try to focus on not breathing through my nose. Her perfume is like sunshine and rain and it’s fucking with my thought process. I knew the role I had to play. I knew it four years ago when I got too close. It wasn’t her fault. She didn’t do anything wrong; it was me. I crossed the line. Brady had been through enough, and sometimes I feel like we both turned our eyes away from his choices. Tried to give him the benefit of the doubt. Neither of us wanted to hurt him. She didn’t want to break his heart and I didn’t want to give him another reason to resent me. But that line had to be drawn, no matter how much I wished it didn’texist. I drew it in the sand that night and now I was here, and she was there. In the same fucking truck but a whole different galaxy.
I punch on the radio, keeping it at a decent enough volume that neither of us feel the obligation to make small talk. Just because she was back in Mayson Ridge, it didn’t change anything. She still hated me, and I still deserved it. But my resolve is only so strong. I can handle a few days with her in my cabin. I like to think I’m a man of self-control. What kind of a dick would I be if I let her sleep on a shitty couch while there was a soft bed available knowing about her back issues. It would raise suspicion if I didn’t at least try to convince her, and I wasn’t aiming to draw any attention to us or our complicated past.
When we finally pull into the hospital, I park as close to the front as space will allow. She’s out the door before I can make it to her side. I'm tempted to scold her. She knows the rules when riding in my truck and I may have been a prick at times, but I was a gentleman.
Her feet are quick, and her shoulders hunched as she walks through the automatic doors. I hadn’t been in a hospital since the night I lost my father, but I shove it aside. This wasn’t about my baggage; this was for her. For Emmett. I owed him a lot and the least I could do was make sure she gets to see him.
The elevator ride is just as tense as the drive. She kept her eyes away from me, her foot tapping a rapid beat against the floor.
When the doors slide open, she rushes out. I sigh before rubbing a hand over my face. My feet slide across the blue linoleum, but I halt when I see Ivy frozen at the edge of the waiting room. I slowly approach, hovering just behind her to give her a moment. As far as I know she hasn’t seen Emmett in a while, and I can feel the anxiety rolling off of her.
After a few moments, I finally step up behind her.
“We can leave,” I say quietly.
She swallows, giving me one curt shake of her head. “No.” She clears her throat. “I need to do this.”
Before I can press my palm to the small of her back like a complete fool, because it would only make this worse, she vaults forward, moving toward his room with determination. I follow closely, until she reaches the door. I stop, glancing back to the waiting room.
“I’ll be out here.” I hike a thumb over my shoulder.
I made it into the building. Going into that room is another story.
