“No, Austin. That’s not what happened.” My senses are slowly coming back to me and I really want to know where I am. “Where am I?”
“You just asked that,” Austin says. “You’re at the hospital. It seems you might have a slight concussion.”
“No, I don’t,” I argue.
“You are feisty down to the bone, aren’t ya?”
“How did I fall, then?” He’s got to be playing games with me, but I do feel an ache in my head, and I don’t think he could be responsible for that.
“Well, um—”
“Spit it out, Austin.”
“There she is,” he says with a smirk. “You were knocked over by Betsy Blue.”
“What? Who the hell is Betsy Blue?”
I hear some giggles over in the corner, and I try to push myself up on my elbows to see who else is in this room. Austin’s friends, Clara and Daisy, that’s who I hear. Is the hospital that slow with patients that they have time to be sitting in here laughing at me for entertainment? “Daisy found you on her way home,” Austin says. “She called me.”
Dammit. I can’t be mad at her if she helped me. “Okay, well who is this Betsy Blue? I’ll go kick her ass.”
Austin’s laughing now too, but this is not funny. “Austin, what the hell?”
“You can’t kick her ass. It would be considered animal cruelty,” he says.
“I’m sorry, what?” I look at Austin, able to focus on him now. He’s not in his scrubs. He’s in jeans and a tee because I was supposed to meet him at Dickles. I was on my way to Dickles when I heard someone honking a bike at me.
“You got knocked over by a pig on the loose.”
“You’re fucking with me? This isn’t funny,” I say, squinting my left eye at him.
“Hush,” he says. “You’re being loud.”
“I’m pissed,” I tell him. “Seriously, are you kidding me? A pig? Really? Why was there a pig on the loose? A pig? Really?”
“She got out of her pen,” Austin says, simply. “She felt bad if that helps?”
“She?”
“Betsy Blue,” he says, as if I should be acquainted with her name by now.
“Oh, did she feel bad after she knocked me over, and apparently almost killed me?” I say, snidely.
“She gave you some kisses I guess.” I feel like gagging at the thought of a pig’s snout on my face. They roll in the freaking mud.
“You know what … ” I say, gritting my teeth.
“What, darlin’?”
“I’m in the mood for bacon.”
“Hey now,” Daisy says from the corner. “Don’t talk about Betsy Blue like that.”
“She tripped me!” I shout.
“Scarlett, how many women have you seen wearing stilettos around our town?” Austin asks me with a raised brow, chastising me for trying to look pretty for him. How rude can he be?
“I. Like. My. Shoes.”
