Page 17
With a quiet sigh, she shook her head. “I guess not. But I have work. And baking orders. And…”
“And Thanksgiving,” Ellis said with a smirk.
“Oh, fuck. Thanksgiving.”
“It’s your driving foot,” he pointed out. “You’re not going anywhere anytime soon, especially not if it’s broken.”
“Fine. Let’s get the X-ray.” Before we did anything else, she gestured to the hallway. “Kieran, can you get my ballet flats? They’re in my closet. It’ll be easier than trying to hobble around with these cute shoes on.” Her voice was miserable.
“It’ll be okay,” I assured her. I made my way to her bedroom and opened her closet to find the aforementioned flats. In her closet were at least a dozen pairs of shoes, but none of them looked like ballet flats. Also, didn’t exactly know what ballet flats looked like.
I stood there, studying a dozen pairs of shoes for what was probably too long, until Ellis came in the room.
“Everything okay?”
“I don’t know what ballet flats look like,” I murmured.
He laughed and shook his head. “I wouldn’t either, but she’s talked about them every time she’s worn them for weeks. Here.” He scooped up a pair of black pleather shoes that looked soft and flexible.
“Thanks.”
“Do you want to go with us to the urgent care or are you staying here?”
“Oh, I’m coming,” I said, probably a little too forcefully.
His cheeks flushed a little and he nodded. “Got it. Then let’s hit the road.”
Ellis drove us to urgent care, Lena in the back seat complaining that every bump and pothole jostled her ankle. Eventually, Ellis shot her a glare. “I’m doing the best I can. It’s not my fault this car has shitty suspension.”
“It’s your fault you drive a beater,” she shot back. “Get a better car.”
He shook his head a little but didn’t speak again.
After what felt like an eternity, we made it to the urgent care center, which was realistically only a few miles away from her house. I jumped out of the car as soon as he’d put it in park. “I’ll go get a wheelchair.”
“I don’t need—”
Another glare from Ellis. “Quit arguing. Yes, you do.”
She sighed and I dashed inside for the chair. When I returned, we helped her get settled and Ellis pushed her inside. I couldn’t help but stare at his strong, tattooed arms as he maneuvered the wheelchair, my stomach doing something weird and somersault-y.
Ellis dug through her purse and pulled out her wallet, flipping through things until he found her insurance card and driver’s license. “Go check her in.”
I nodded and took the insurance card to the receptionist. “Hi,” I said quietly.
“What are you here for?” Her tone was supremely bored.
“My friend turned her ankle. She probably needs an X-ray.”
She blinked at me before taking the insurance card. “We’ll call you back when there’s a room ready.”
It didn’t take long—maybe a half hour—before they called Lena’s name and Ellis and I went back into a curtained room with her. The nurse, a tall, strong guy with a shaved head, gave us a bright smile.
“I’m just going to take her for the X-ray. Might as well get it before the doctor gets back here, right? If we wait, you’ll be here longer than you need to be.”
“This is silly,” Lena protested. “I’m fine.”
“Then it’s a good exercise in patience, isn’t it?” the nurse said with a friendly laugh. I suspected he dealt with this kind of patient a lot.
