Everything I Dreamed (Everhope Road #2)

1. Hailey

1

HAILEY

B lood.

There’s blood.

The room is spinning, and I’m praying for a hot doctor.

A doctor does stitches, right? Or is it the nurse?

Staring down at my thumb, the nausea returns.

Why in the world did I have to have a ditsy moment today? I should be out enjoying the June sun. Instead, I’m here. In an emergency room. Because of my stupidity.

My cell phone lying next to me vibrates on the exam table’s paper sheet, and the name on the phone catches my eye. It’s my brother, Liam. With one hand, I jab the green button on the screen and put him on speaker.

“Hailey, what the hell? What’s going on? Your voicemail has me freaking out. You sounded like you were about to throw up.”

Taking a deep breath, I try to steady myself, my stomach swirling as my feet dangle from the table in a cubicle with a curtain drawn. “That’s probably because I’m stuck in the emergency room in a tiny hospital in the middle of nowhere Illinois,” I bite out.

“Whoa there, Everhope isn’t the middle of nowhere. It has a great riverboat restaurant on the river. Lake Spark isn’t far, and Chicago is a solid hour and a half away, which is why I am here to pick up the re-sized rings before I fly out to Colorado for my wedding. I mean, I know I’m your emergency contact when you’re teaching, but the school didn’t call, and I’m nowhere near you to come running. So, what’s going on?”

I sigh while my eyes drop down to my finger where the cotton gauze is soaking through. “That’s because my little mishap didn’t happen at summer school. I’m waiting for someone to stitch my thumb. But you know how I am with blood.”

He hums a sound. “Still doesn’t explain what the hell happened.”

“I was cutting a bagel.” I leave it at that.

“Why? We have Foxy Rox in town, and they have great bagels. Rookie move to try store-bought bagels.”

The heat stinging my face returns, and my head is a little light. “Well, desperate times. What can I say? Anyhow, the bread knife went quickly through and cut my thumb. My kitchen looks like a murder scene.”

“Aren’t bagels a little tough to cut, why so fast?” he wonders. He must be outside, as I hear a crosswalk signal.

Grumbling to myself, my lips quirk out, and I debate how honest to be. “That’s because… I didn’t realize… it was…” The words trail from my mouth. I’m preparing myself for the next thirty seconds. “A pre-sliced bagel,” I squeak out.

The burst of laughter fills my ears, and I curse to myself for my stupidity.

I wait a solid thirty seconds as predicted for his chuckle to fade. “Okay, I’m never letting this go,” he promises, as I suspected.

My jaw tightens. “Stop it. I’m not so happy that you are amused by my suffering. Right now, I need someone to pick me up. Kelly across the street was able to drop me off on her way to Lake Spark because I couldn’t drive.”

“Well, I won’t be able to get back for two hours. Rush hour is about to hit and won’t ease until I get on I-88. What about Esme?”

“My stellar best friend is absent in my time of need. She went down to Bluetop to the Blisswood winery with Keats. Some romantic getaway or some misery like that.” I’m sarcastic but I’m happy for her, really I am.

“Okay, let me?—”

The swoosh of the curtain being pulled back breaks our conversation, and I’m greeted by a doctor who causes my jaw to go slightly slack.

“Have to go, the doctor is here. I’ll call you back or text me,” I quickly string a sentence together to inform my brother what’s going on, then hang up while I smile nervously at the man before me. He has a friendly facial expression and height that towers over me, and his eyes are sky blue too. Also , there is a silver ring around his finger. Married.

Maybe I’ll be that one day.

A wife to a husband who I’ll make laugh. And he’ll treat me like a queen. He’ll be so damn sexy that I’ll want to pounce on him whenever I can. Kind of like…

Nope. No, Hailey.

I will not think of the man I’ve known for years right now. The man who causes my heart to constrict when it shouldn’t or who smiles at me as though it’s only for me.

Stop this. It will never happen.

“Hey there. I’m Doctor Watson.” The doctor brings me out of my daze.

“Like from Sherlock Holmes?” My face squinches.

He swings a stool closer to the exam table. “Is he a doctor?”

I shrug.

“I recognize you from Lake Spark Academy. You teach there, right? I think you might actually teach my daughter Sammy next year. She’s going to be in seventh grade.”

“Oh, fun,” I breathe out a reply as I try to tamp down my pain.

Lake Spark Academy is a private school. It’s half an hour from here, but I enjoy the fact that it means I’m less likely to run into my kids on the weekend. I take that back—not kids, teenagers. I need a break from teenagers. Teen students take a little more patience. Sometimes, I regret that I didn’t choose to teach preschool, but there are not many private preschools in the county.

The other week, I went to a real estate open house for a building with a great garden on Main Street. I’m not sure why I went, but when I walked through the rooms, it became obvious that I was entertaining the idea of starting my own private preschool. Pure dreams. We all have one or two.

The doctor gestures to my thumb. “Well, maybe I should be worried that her new social studies teacher has had a few questionable accidents.” My face falls from his sentence. “Relax, it’s a joke. I heard what happened from the nurse.” His professionalism hides the slightest of humorous smiles wanting to escape. He unwraps the white bandage I’ve been pressing against my thumb to stop the bleeding. I refuse to glance down. “For sure, we’re going to have to stitch you up.”

“Figured. But these days they have those clear roll-on stitches, right?” I’m hopeful.

“No can do. Your cut is too deep.” He examines my thumb. “Maybe even cut a nerve”

I gasp, and new warmth flushes through my body. “A nerve! Is that why I’m really struggling right now to feel my thumb or is it just pure pain from my stupidity?” My voice cracks as I whimper.

“All of the above. I would say four stitches and a brace on your thumb, and then in about ten days you’ll have to return to have the nurse remove them.”

“Fuck,” I mutter to myself, and I attempt a few yoga breaths, but it fails to calm me down. “Okay.”

“So let me grab some supplies, then I will stitch you up.” I chuff a laugh. “Must be your excitement for the day, I guess.”

He grins. “I would assume that you’re implying that this emergency room doesn’t see much action. Believe it or not, we’ve had a busy day. Tetanus shot due to a wild animal bite, someone had a burn from coffee. All the end-of-the-world things, you know.”

“We’re a quaint town,” I quip.

“That we are. Let’s do this. We’ll stitch you up and get you on your merry way.”

He quickly grabs a few things from the side cabinet before returning to his stool where he places his supplies on the tray next to him, and I notice the needle with liquid nearby.

“What is that?” Panic sets in.

He doesn’t spare me a glance and gets to work on his tools. “Lidocaine to numb the area before I stitch.” My eyes follow his movements down and then my entire body spins.

Blood. Needle. My thumb.

Then the world goes black.

“Hailey.”

The feeling of a cool cloth against my forehead helps my body begin to stir. I blink repeatedly as I wake groggily and try to grasp my bearings.

“There you are.” A smiling older nurse greets me. She slowly helps me to lie on my side while a warm rush flows down my body. “You fainted.”

Oh yeah, because I hate everything that involves sharp objects and blood. Apparently, just not bread knives.

“I think I’m beginning to feel better,” I mumble.

“Here.” She hands me a small cookie, those dry ones with vanilla in the middle. Disgusting. A crime to the cookie community, to be honest. “The sugar will help,” she says, trying to convince me.

Reluctantly, I take one bite, and it’s as revolting as I remember.

The doctor stares at me with a warm smile. “Welcome back to earth. We’re going to have to stitch you up now. I can’t leave it any longer, it’s not good for your thumb.”

I suck in some air through my nostrils.

The nurse rubs my arms to comfort me, while I internally wish my brother would get here, but he said he is too far. Another problem for my day.

The sound of a man’s voice in the hall causes my head to tilt to the side as I try to figure out who is approaching the other side of the curtain. Familiar. Definitely familiar.

I wince from the doctor poking my thumb just as he opens the curtain.

Oh no.

No. Why?

In my weakest moment, too.

“Liam sent me to get you home,” he explains with that subtle sly smirk that melts me every single time. Sometimes he laughs and a dimple appears. His brown hair complements his matching eyes. He shaved today, I can tell.

I’m totally screwed, and unfortunately, not by him. I may be in my late twenties but around this guy I’m as hopeless as the teens in my class. I stop just short of writing his name in the margins of my notes, drawing hearts around it.

Of all the people Liam could call to help me out, it’s the one guy I shouldn’t think about.

The man I most definitely do not want to see me in this frazzled state.

But my brother chose who to rescue me, and it’s Oliver.

My older brother’s best friend.