“I’m sorry for calling you.” I grimace. “I didn’t know who else to call.” I reject Caleb’s hand and manage to pick myself back up, but I’m right back down on my ass after taking one step.
“Here.” He fishes around in one of his many pockets for a tissue, dabbing away excess blood. We’re too fucking close. His uniform smells like cologne, hard work, and sweat, and his eyes are doing a full sweep of my face, back to their concerned expression. “Promise me you’ll be more careful.”
I nod, trying to wrap this conversation up as quickly as possible. Is he saying this as a friend or as someone who cares beyond that?
I have no choice but to accept his hand. Caleb helps me up and guides me back down to the original path I was on, minding all of the overgrown shrubbery.
The other officer—Marco, I think his name is, keeps his distance in front of us, as if not wanting to third wheel.
I finally make it back to the road, where the fire truck is parked, and inhale a fresh breath of air. But that air carries some of Caleb’s comforting scent.
I think I’m even more of a wreck than before.
“We’re dropping you off at the hospital,” Caleb calls from the front. He drives down the road, Marco in the passenger seat filling out mandatory documents.
The silence stretches all around us. I wish Caleb didn’t know the true reason for me entering the forest, but oh, he knows. We ruled that place nine years ago, and spent almost every weekend getting lost in the trees.
“It’s not what it used to be out there,” he states from the driver’s seat.
I watch his perfect hands smooth over the wheel as he takes control of the vehicle, turning it out of the forest. That firestarts in my panties again. Going there last night definitely made things worse.
“We’ll be okay here,” Caleb says, pulling into one of the ambulance bays even though fire trucks are definitely unauthorized in this area. “Marco will stay here while I take you in.” He kicks open the door.
I’m not even tall enough to close it. “No. You’ve done enough. I’ll take it from here.”
His jaw flickers with tension. “Hart.”
I wish he’d stop calling me that.
“I’m fine,” I reassure him. “Please go. I’ll see you this evening.” I move away from the fire truck before I get him in trouble for parking illegally.
Before I getmyselfinto more trouble by watching those hands.
They suit him so well.
“All right. The emergency room is just around this corner.” Concern is etched across his face again. “Are you sure you can walk?”
“I’ll manage.” I stare at him for another beat, waiting for him to go first in case I embarrass myself anymore than I already have today by falling on my ass. This time with him watching. “Thank you. I owe you big time for today.”
“You don’t owe me a dime,” Caleb says from the fire truck. He stares down at me, hinting that he’s not done talking. “All you owe me is an explanation as to why you decided to go out there.”
Friends don’t hint at times when they were more than friends…
He starts the engine and reverses the great big machine out of the bay, leaving me alone with a dozen ambulances, and my thoughts.
I hobble over to the emergency room entrance, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other. I use the wall as balance, palms flat on the brick like I’m a beginner ice skater, terrified of falling.
I catch the truck disappearing down the road and forget about my foot. About why I’m here. I’m stupidly head over heels for Caleb Rourke. And I dug an even deeper hole for myself last night by choosing to surrender.
The fire truck drives on, but something else grabs my attention. It’s the car from the other night. The same one that was parked outside of Caleb’s house. The beat-up Chevy. The license plate is the exact same.
James Taylor has got some serious explaining to do the next time he pays me a visit…whenever he decides to do that. If I had two working feet, I’d be over there now confronting him.
But I’m already pathetic enough in his eyes. He’ll look down on me even more than he already does if he sees that can’t even walk without support.
The best I can do is stare at the car and tell him that he’s gonna have to do better. Stalkers should really drive something cleaner that doesn’t stick out like a sore thumb.
After staring at the vehicle for a good amount of time, I head indoors and hope to walk back out fixed.
