“Okay. I will be extra careful.”
“Did I just hear that right?” I draw her to stand between my legs. “You being agreeable.”
“Don’t get used to it,” she smiles.
I run my hands through the sides of her hair and look into her eyes. I could get used to a lot of things with Jordyn. But before I admit anything else that could blow the rules out of the water, I kiss her. The kind of kiss that puts us back on common ground. I slide my tongue into her mouth, and the desire that should have been sated against the tree and in the shower, blooms again to twist hard in my lower belly. I stroke my hands down to the curves of her ass, drawing her closer.
When we come up for air, her lips are moist and pink, and her eyes are dazed, which is pretty much how I feel—dazzled. My brain and emotions are chaotic. I struggle to process it all, to think, to take steps back, to…the rest of my stream of consciousness is cut off by the alarm sounding on my phone.
IHAVE SEEN PLEASURE ON HIS face, humor, kindness, anger, concern, and remoteness, too. But never have I seen fear.
He stands still, but his eyes are moving rapidly, and tension is evident in the tightness of his body and grip on the phone. “The ambulance is on its way, Pops.”
I instinctively reach out a hand, touching his corded forearm, offering what comfort I can.
“No, don’t try to get up. Don’t move. Does anything feel broken?” He pauses. “Did you hit your head?” Another pause. “How bad?” After a held breath, “You’re gonna be okay, Pops,” he says in an effort to keep his grandfather calm even as panic lances through him. Stiles only disconnects after he speaks to a medic.
“My grandfather fell. They’re taking him to Mercy.” Each word lands heavy. “I have to go.”
“I’ll drive you.”
“No.” He shoves the phone into the pocket of his cargo shorts and moves quickly toward the door. “Just stay here and lock up.”
“You’re not getting on a motorcycle like this, Jasper. And you’re not going alone. I conceded to you looking out for me. Now I’m doing the same for you.”
I grab my keys, and he follows, but I doubt he’s happy.
Arriving at the medical center, the stress lines that bracket his mouth and eyes are more pronounced, giving me the impression that just being in a hospital is a strain on his system. I wish I could hug him, hold his hand, or something, but he’s so withdrawn and tense. He’s in that dark place he sometimes goes, where he’s here, but out of reach.
I sit with Stiles for three hours until the doctor finally comes out and introduces himself.
“I’m Dr. Sherman. Your grandfather has a few bruises and a mild concussion—no internal swelling, thankfully, or broken bones. We’re going to keep him overnight for observation. He’s resting now and in good spirits. He’s quite a character.”
Relief coaxes some life back into his blank eyes. “Can I see him?”
“Yes. Just not too much stimulation. He needs rest.” The doctor leads us down the hall and stops at room 117. “I’ll check in on your grandfather again before my shift ends, but I don’t think there’s any reason for concern.”
“Thank you, Doctor.”
He nods and takes his leave.
Stiles turns to me. “I appreciate you being here, Jordyn, but you don’t have to stay. I can get an Uber back.”
“It’s no problem,” I say, torn between not wanting to leave Stiles and insinuating myself where I don’t belong. “I’ll wait out here. Take your time.”
“Jordyn…”
“It’s okay. Really.” Meeting each other’s families isn’t part of the rules. “Go see your grandfather.”
On a conflicted sigh, he turns and enters the room. Unable to deny my curiosity, rather than take one of the chairs in the hall, I hover just outside the door, where I get a glimpse of his grandfather. The curtain is pulled back, and he’s lying on the bed, propped up in a partially seated position. His lived-in face is handsome, and his hair is cropped close to the scalp like a sprinkling of silver dust.
“Junior!” He delights at seeing his grandson.
“Hey, Pops.” Stiles moves to the bedside and bends over to kiss his forehead. “How are you doing?”
“I’m still alive and kicking, so don’t go making a fuss. I was sick of that damn chair. Used the cane to get up and lost my footing.”
“You know not to use the cane unless someone’s around.”
