That’s when she realized she was still wearing his shirt and jeans. She actually laughed.
Well, shit.
I guess that’s just me. A bird in lion’s clothing.
Sure,nowshe thought of something clever to say.
TWELVE
Elias tossed the empty stretcher into the ambulance with a force that made it rattle against the metal floor, his frustration boiling over. He yanked off his gloves, tossing them into the biohazard bin with a snap, the motion more aggressive than necessary. He could feel Waylon’s eyes on him, assessing, waiting. The man knew him well enough to keep his mouth shut at least.
Tim came around the side of the ambo. “What the hell? Everything okay back here?”
Waylon stretched his arms and spoke before Elias could. “Yeah, the Lion’s just cranky.”
Cranky doesn’t touch it.
Tim knocked twice on the side of the ambo. “Well, next stop’s Riversong. My turn to pay. That should cheer you up.” Tim smiled. “Always cheers me up.” He turned and jogged back around the driver’s side.
Waylon climbed into the back of the rig ahead of Elias. “Someone really needs to tell Tim he has a less than zero chance with April.”
Elias just growled. “Love makes you stupid.”
They rode in silence to Riversong, which was the last place Elias wanted to be right now. Bad enough he’d spent the rest ofSunday and all of Monday mentally watching Wren drive away, her last words ringing in his ears with such finality in her voice.
It was a great weekend, Elias.Thanks. For everything.
Was.
Which meant done.
Not even a last kiss.
Now, they were returning to the scene of the crime, the place where he stupidly let her go without an explanation.
The ambulance parked at the back of the lot. Waylon opened the door. Elias grabbed a tablet before he climbed out. Tim was already halfway across the parking lot, followed by Andy. As Waylon started to follow the other two men, Elias stayed put and scanned the parking lot instead, looking for Wren’s car, hating the way his heart sped up, hoping he’d see her leaning against the driver’s side, his jeans and shirt folded in her hands.
Nothing.
“You coming, Hunt?” Andy called when he looked back and noticed Elias still standing at the ambo.
Elias held up the tablet. “Gonna finish this. Just grab my usual, thanks.”
“Same,” Waylon said. He stopped walking, turned, and headed back toward Elias.
“Don’t need a babysitter,” Elias bit out, avoiding eye contact as he stared at the tablet, attempting to complete the last run report.
Waylon leaned against the side of the ambo and casually crossed his arms. “Okay, that’s enough, brother,” he finally said. His voice was low, calm, the same tone he used to talk down anxious patients on their way to the ER.
“I’m fine.” The words on the screen swam in front of him, refusing to settle into any coherent order. He ran his hand through his hair.
“You aren’t acting fine, and you sure as hell don’t look fine.”
Elias clenched his jaw, his finger hovering over the tablet. The concern he heard in Waylon’s voice—a far cry from the teasing banter they usually exchanged, especially on the job—grated on him.
“Just drop it, man,” Elias muttered. He forced himself to focus on the tablet. He was being unprofessional, and that was unacceptable. He’d been thinking non-stop about Wren from the moment he watched her pull out of Riversong’s parking lot without so much as a glance backward. He’d asked himself a thousand times what he’d done wrong. She’d seemed so happy joking with everyone inside, and then it was like someone in her head had turned on the air conditioner and she froze up. But he couldn’t afford to think about Wren now. Not at work.
Maybe not ever.
