Page 35 of Reckless
“Please be okay,” I murmur under my breath.
And then his eyes open, long dark lashes flicking up to reveal those dark onyx eyes. They take a minute to focus in on me and then a small, confused smile touches his lips.
“Hi, Tink.”
9
Theo
Ihiss out a breath when we hit a pothole. It’s not as bad as the dirt road leading out of the fairgrounds, but it’s not ideal either.
The other thing that’s not ideal is the small blonde stewing in the corner of the ambulance. I can’t even turn to look at her properly with my head strapped down onto the board like this. If it didn’t hurt to laugh, I’d laugh right now.
I knew I’d see her again at some point, but this isn’t quite what I’d pictured.
From the corner of my eye, I watch her stare down at one hand while her opposite arm wraps around her midsection.
The thing that woke me up was her snarky little voice barking at everyone to back off, and the feel of her finger stroking my neck. Before I even opened my eyes, I knew it was her. It’s been well over a year, but I still remember how her hands felt on me. The way she felt under my own, all damp and writhing.
I thought we had a good time. Areallygood time.
“Why are you ignoring me?” Just the vibration of my voice in my chest sends shocks of pain through my collarbone.
I know it’s broken, because it’s sticking out through the skin. I passed out for a second time when I reached up and ran my fingers over the jagged edge.
Winter tilts her head and gives me a thoroughly unimpressed look. “You must be kidding me.”
“Listen, I know you said it was a secret, but it’s just us here. So you can stop pretending that wasn’t the best sex you’ve ever had. How many times did I make you—”
“Theo. Shut up,” she snaps, but it’s not her usual Tinkerbell vibe. There’s an edge of something I can’t quite place.
Pain.
And it silences me.
The minutes filled with silence stretch between us. The hum of the road beneath the ambulance tires and the light rattle of the drawers in the back are our only companions.
Anxiety replaces discomfort as the main thing I’m feeling. There’s an unfamiliar heaviness. I didn’t expect to see her again, and I for sure didn’t expect the cold shoulder—even from her.
“How many concussions have you had, Theo?” Her voice is emotionless, but confident. Very doctor-y.
I sigh. “A lot.”
“How many is a lot?”
“We talking diagnosed or suspected?”
Her head flips away. “Jesus Christ.”
“Last time I got one, I was told not to get any more.”
“How long ago was that?”
“Probably three concussions ago.”
Her head taps back against the single seat she’s strapped into. “I can’t even tell if you’re joking right now.”
“I’m not joking, just trying to lighten the blow. No pun intended.”
