Tucker isn’t like that. The cocky frat boy exterior is just a front. A very thin layer that comes off quickly when you speak to him for more than a couple of minutes
“Are you ok?” I check on him.
His head is on my shoulder and I’m encased in his strong arms on the backseat of the golf cart.
Tucker’s eyes are closed and he looks paler than a few minutes ago.
I can’t see the dressing I applied to his wound, but it was already starting to get soaked in blood when the golf cart arrived. He definitely needs stitches.
“Hmm,” he murmurs, nuzzling my neck.
Maybe it’s the shock that’s making him cling to me. I bet that once they take care of him at the ER, he’s gonna find an excuse to cut me loose. Or he might just ghost me, which is what people tend to do these days rather than facing hard conversations. If he did, I wouldn’t even blame him. Maybe he should run after the way my last hookup ended.
Shit. Do I bring bad luck to the men I’m interested in? Like some kind of black widow who kills her sexual partners aftershe’s done with them? Or even before she’s even started in this case, since Tucker and I haven’t even kissed.
I know this is the guilt talking. I had no intention of hurting Tucker, the same way I had no intention of causing any harm to Tim.
“We’re here.” The golf cart has come to a stop right outside the beginning of the pier.
We’re in front of a one story building that houses the lifeboat depot and the urgent care center.
“Do you guys need any help to get Tucker in?” The lifeguard who drove us here asks.
“Thanks, dude. We’ve got it.” Colsen comes to help a sleepy Tucker out of his seat.
The lifeguard climbs back into the vehicle. “No worries. Call me if you need anything.”
“He’s very kind.” I comment, following Colsen and Tucker to the entrance of the urgent care room.
Colsen nods. “We know him. He used to be on the hockey team. He was a senior my freshman year. That’s what you get in a small town with the locals. Everyone knows everyone.”
The urgent care waiting room is pretty crowded. I guess it comes with the territory on a Saturday night in the middle of the summer.
As Colsen helps Tucker onto one of the few free chairs, I go to the reception desk to sign us in.
“Name of the patient?” The nurse asks.
“Tucker…” I hesitate. “I’m not sure if he told me his last name. Let me ask him.”
I turn to look at them in the hope of waving Colsen over.
“Oh.” Recognition flickers in the nurse’s eyes when she spots the guys. “It’s Prescott. Is Tucker ok?”
Great. I mean, it’s great that she knows him so I didn’t have to ask any of the information. But the horrified expression on thewoman’s face when I explain the nature of Tucker’s injury and how it occurred says more than a thousand words.
Let’s just say that I’m glad I don’t need any medical attention right now, because the older woman looks less than impressed with me.
She passes a clipboard through the hole in her security screen. “It would be great if you started filling in these forms. A doctor or a nurse will call you when it’s your turn.”
I accept the clipboard with a sigh. This is going to be a long night. There are a lot of people waiting, and while Tucker is bleeding, the bullet didn’t hit an artery, so he’s hardly in a life-threatening condition.
“Ok.” I force a smile on my face as I notice how tired Tucker looks. “The nurse gave me some forms to fill out. What’s your date of birth?”
He smiles. “February twenty-eight two thousand and three.”
“Address and phone number?”
We fill in all his personal information and I’m about to turn to the next form when we get called.
