A part of him wanted to race after Kinsey, tug her back into his arms, and kiss her until she could feel his love. Another part of him wanted to blurt it out, tell her how hard he’d fallen for her and how he didn’t want to live without her, not for a single day.
She’d crossed to where they’d set their towels and phones, and she started wrapping her towel around her body. Her back was stiff, and she hadn’t looked back at him yet. She was also too quiet, which meant she probably regretted her rash decision to leave the friend zone behind and make a move toward more.
He could admit he’d been surprised when she’d glided across the pool toward him, the glow in her eyes telling him that she was interested in him as more than a friend. But he’d waited, hadn’t wanted to initiate anything, hadn’t wanted to pressure her in any way.
Should he have put on the brakes? At the very least, should he have tamed his response? Maybe he should have kissed her softly and then hugged her again?
But he wasn’t sure he could have restrained himself more than he had. Already, he was anticipating the next kiss with her, the next chance to hug her, the next chance to have her close. It was almost as if he wouldn’t be complete until she was back by his side.
Was that how it was for his dad? Why Dad was truly only content when Mom was with him, sitting beside him and holding his hand. Did he feel that a piece of him was missing without her?
Although Tyler had desired Stephanie, he’d never had this overwhelming need for her or this sense of completion with her the way he did with Kinsey.
Kinsey picked up her phone and glanced at the screen. Immediately her expression changed. She swiped and began to read a text.
He tensed and rose. “What is it?”
“T.W. He’s throwing up and having a lot of pain.”
Tyler lunged to the edge of the pool. “What’s going on?”
She was already calling someone and held up a finger toward him. “Leah?” She paused and listened, but the soft hum of the pool prevented him from hearing his mom’s voice on the other end of the phone. “Yes, that’s good. You’re doing the right thing.”
Tyler climbed out quickly. His pulse thudded hard, but he tried to calm it. Dad was improving. Kinsey was here. They would figure out this new complication together. It couldn’t be serious.
“Just get there as fast as you can,” Kinsey said firmly but calmly, the tone she used often when she was in her nursing role. She listened to his mom for a few more seconds, then nodded. “We’ll meet you there.”
As she ended the call, she turned to face him, her expression grave.
He didn’t bother grabbing the other towel. Instead, he reached for his phone to see he’d missed phone calls and texts. Two from his mom. One from Emberly. And several from Kade. From an hour ago.
“An hour?” His voice rose with disbelief. Had they really been away from their phones for an hour in the hot spring? As with the rest of the day, he’d lost track of time while he was with Kinsey. She’d been all that had mattered. He hadn’t been able to think of anyone or anything else and had been in a world where only the two of them existed.
She moved toward the path that would take them back to the bathhouse. “They’re on their way to Penrose Hospital. Kade’s flying them.”
Falling into step beside her, Tyler’s heart dropped. “It’s that serious?”
She lengthened her stride. “I don’t know, but they didn’t know what else to do since they couldn’t get ahold of me.”
His mind raced with the possibilities, including the chance that the cancer was back and growing and that they were too late for chemotherapy. “What do you think is wrong?”
“I don’t know without being able to assess him.”
“What were his symptoms?” he persisted.
“Just what I’ve told you—that he was in a lot of pain and throwing up.”
“What could that mean? That the cancer is back?”
They were practically jogging now. “There are lots of things it could mean, and we won’t know until we get some scans.”
“How much time until they reach the hospital?”
“They just left.”
“Why did they wait so long to leave?”
“They were hoping to get advice from me.” Her tone was terse.
