8. West
8
WEST
T he world came back in flashes of pain and confusion. My eyelids fluttered open to darkness, dust tickling my nose. Where the hell was I? A crushing weight pinned my leg, and my head throbbed with each heartbeat.
“Hello? Is anyone there?” I called out, my voice hoarse. Panic clawed at my chest as memories trickled back—the fire, the collapsing roof. Shit.
I strained my ears, catching faint voices in the distance. Firefighters. Thank God. I just had to hang on.
“Over here!” I shouted, coughing as smoke filled my lungs.
Footsteps drew closer, flashlight beams cutting through the haze. I squinted against the sudden brightness.
“Sir, can you hear me?” A firefighter’s face swam into view. "West, is that you?"
“Yeah,” I rasped. My training kicked in as I cataloged my injuries. “Left leg’s trapped. Probable concussion. No other major trauma that I can tell.”
“Good to know. We’ll get you out of here in no time.”
As they worked to free my leg, I focused on staying calm, pushing aside the creeping fear. I’d seen plenty of rescues from the other side. Now, I just had to trust my fellow first responders to do their job.
“How’s it looking down there, Rodriguez?” I asked, gritting my teeth against a fresh wave of pain.
“Almost got it. You’re doing great, West. Just hang in there a little longer.”
I nodded, taking shallow breaths to avoid the worst of the smoke. My thoughts drifted to Drew. God, he probably thought I ditched the party. There was so much left unsaid between us…
No. I shook my head, wincing. I couldn’t go there right now. One step at a time. Get out alive first, deal with complicated feelings later.
“All right, we’re almost ready,” Johnson announced. "We’ll have to move the beam."
I braced myself, determined to help however I could. Whatever happened next, I knew one thing for certain—I wasn’t going down without a fight.
As the guys carefully maneuvered around me, I let my mind wander to Drew. His bright-blue eyes, that easy smile that could light up a room. God, what I wouldn’t give to see that smile right now.
“You still with us, West?” Johnson called out, snapping me back to reality.
“Yeah, I’m here,” I replied, my voice raspy from the smoke.
Just thinking about how I might never get the chance to tell Drew how I really feel . How his friendship had become so much more to me over the years. The way my heart raced every time he walked into a room.
“All right, we’re going to lift this beam now,” Rodriguez announced. “It might hurt, but we need you to stay as still as possible. Can you do that for us?”
I nodded, steeling myself. “I’ve got this. Let’s do it.”
“On three. One, two…”
As they began to lift, I bit back a groan. The pain was excruciating, but I forced myself to focus on helping them however I could.
“That’s it, just a little more,” I encouraged through gritted teeth. “I think I can wiggle my leg out if you can hold it there.”
Johnson looked at me skeptically. “You sure about that, buddy? We don’t want to risk further injury.”
I managed a weak chuckle. “Trust me, I know what I’m doing. Paramedic, remember?”
With their reluctant nod, I slowly began to extract my leg. Every movement sent shockwaves of pain through my body, but I pushed through. All I could think about was getting out of there, seeing Drew’s face again. Maybe this time, I’d finally have the courage to tell him how I felt.
“You’re doing great, West,” he encouraged. “Almost there.”
As I finally pulled my leg free, I let out a relieved laugh. “Well, that was fun. Let’s not do it again anytime soon, yeah?”
The guys chuckled, carefully helping me to my feet. As I tested my strength on my feet, I couldn’t shake the image of Drew from my mind. His worried face, those expressive eyes filled with concern.
I made a silent promise to myself right then and there. If I made it out of this, I wouldn’t waste another moment. Life was too short, too unpredictable. It was time to tell Drew exactly how I felt. Consequences be damned.
I gritted my teeth as I took my first step, the pain shooting through my leg like lightning. But I’d be damned if I was going to let a little discomfort stop me now.
“All right, boys,” I said, forcing a grin. “Let’s get out of here.”
"The way we came from is blocked. Do you know another way out?"
I nodded. "I know this building like the back of my hand.”
One of the firefighters, a burly guy with a bushy mustache, raised an eyebrow. “You sure you’re up for this?”
I nodded, swallowing hard. “Absolutely. Consider me your personal GPS.”
As we navigated the smoky corridors, I pushed aside thoughts of Drew, focusing instead on getting us all out safely.
“Watch out for that loose beam,” I called out, wincing as I sidestepped some debris. “There’s a back stairwell just around this corner that should still be intact.”
We made slow but steady progress, the acrid smell of smoke growing stronger with each step. My lungs burned, and I could feel my breath becoming more labored. But the thought of Drew waiting outside kept me going.
Finally, we reached the exit. As the door swung open, the rush of fresh air hit me like a punch to the gut. I stumbled forward, coughing violently, my eyes watering from the smoke and the sudden brightness of the rescue team’s lights.
“Easy there, buddy,” one of the firefighters said, supporting me as I gasped for air. He must be a new one because I didn’t recognize his face.
Through my blurred vision, I could make out the chaos of the scene outside—flashing lights, concerned faces, and a flurry of activity. But all I could focus on was trying to breathe, each inhale feeling like sandpaper in my throat.
As I sat there gulping in sweet, clean air, a familiar figure came tearing through the crowd, his face a whirlwind of emotions.
“West!” Drew’s voice cracked as he rushed toward me, his usually tousled blond hair wild with worry.
I tried to stand, ignoring the sharp pain in my leg. “Drew, I’m okay?—”
Before I could finish, Drew crashed into me, his arms wrapping around me so tightly I thought I might lose my breath all over again. But I didn’t care. I buried my face in his neck, inhaling his scent—a mix of sandalwood and something uniquely Drew—as if it could purge the smoke from my lungs.
“Jesus, West,” Drew mumbled into my hair, his voice thick with emotion. “I thought…I thought I’d lost you.”
I pulled back slightly, meeting his tear-filled eyes. “Takes more than a little roof collapse to get rid of me,” I quipped, trying to lighten the mood. But my attempt at humor fell flat as I saw the raw fear etched across Drew’s face.
“Sir, we need to check him over,” Johnny, a fellow paramedic, interrupted, gently trying to separate us.
Drew’s grip on me tightened. “I’m not leaving him,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Warmth spread through my chest at his words. “It’s okay. He can stay.”
I was so ready to go home. My leg was likely bruised but definitely not broken or sprained. I just needed a shower and my bed because I was fucking tired.
As Johnny began assessing my injuries, Drew hovered nearby, his eyes never leaving me. “You’re going to the hospital,” he stated firmly.
I started to protest, “Drew, I don’t think?—”
“No arguments, West,” Drew cut me off, his voice softening as he added, “Please. I need to know you’re okay.”
“Your friend is right, West,” the paramedic said. “I don’t think anything is broken, and I could bandage your cuts, but you inhaled a lot of smoke. You don’t need me to remind you of the drill, do you?”
Looking into Drew’s pleading eyes, I felt my resolve crumble. I just wanted to go home, but how could I say no to him? “All right,” I conceded. “But only if you promise to sneak me in some decent food. Hospital grub is the worst.”
Drew’s laugh was shaky but genuine. “Deal,” he said, squeezing my hand.
As I was loaded into the ambulance, I wondered if it was just the adrenaline or if there was something more behind Drew’s intense reaction? And more importantly, now that I had the opportunity to tell Drew about my feelings, would I?
The fluorescent lights of Cliffborough General Hospital’s emergency room buzzed overhead, their harsh glow making everything look washed out and surreal. I blinked, trying to focus on the doctor’s face as she examined my leg.
“Well, West, you’re quite lucky,” she said, her voice crisp and professional. “The injury to your leg isn’t severe. However, the smoke inhalation is our primary concern right now.”
I nodded, suppressing a cough. “Makes sense,” I rasped. “Feels like I swallowed a campfire.”
From his position beside my bed, Drew crossed and uncrossed his arms.
I turned to look at him, struck by the worry lines around his eyes. Even disheveled and exhausted, he was still unfairly handsome. “I’m okay, Drew.”
As the medical team bustled around me, hooking up IVs, adjusting my oxygen, and running tests, Drew remained a constant presence. He fielded questions I was too tired to answer, his hand never straying far from mine. It was comforting but also confusing as hell. We’d always been close, but this felt…different.
“You don’t have to stay, you know,” I said softly once we were alone again. “I’m sure you’ve got better things to do than babysit me all night.”
Drew’s blue eyes flashed with something I couldn’t quite decipher. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be,” he said firmly, his fingers intertwining with mine. “You scared the shit out of me today, West. I’m not going anywhere.”
I swallowed hard, overwhelmed by the intensity of his gaze. “Drew, I?—”
“Get some rest,” he interrupted gently, giving my hand a squeeze. “I’ll be right here when you wake up.”
I drifted off, lulled by the steady beep of monitors and the warmth of Drew’s hand in mine. It felt unreal, so I held on to it as darkness took me.
The first thing I noticed as I blinked awake was the soft, golden light of dawn filtering through the hospital blinds. The second was the warm weight of Drew’s hand still firmly clasped in mine. I turned my head, wincing slightly at the stiffness in my neck, my breath catching in my throat.
Drew was slumped in the chair beside my bed, his usually perfectly styled hair a mess and his clothes rumpled. But it was the peaceful expression on his face that made my heart do a weird flip-flop in my chest. I’d never seen him look so…vulnerable.
“You’re staring,” Drew mumbled, his eyes still closed.
I let out a startled laugh. “I thought you were asleep.”
“I was,” he said, cracking one eye open and flashing a sleepy grin. “But I have a sixth sense for when people are checking me out.”
“I wasn’t—” I started to protest, but the words died in my throat as Drew’s thumb began tracing gentle circles on the back of my hand. The simple touch sent shivers down my spine, and I found myself wondering when exactly my best friend’s casual affection had started to feel so…electric.
“How are you feeling?” Drew asked, his voice still husky with sleep.
I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could, the door swung open and a tall, dark-haired man in a white coat strode in. It took me a moment to recognize him, but Drew stood up straight away.
“Patrick!” he said, going around the bed and hugging Patrick. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m doing my residency here. Started this week.” He looked at the chart in his hand and turned to me. “Nice to finally meet you, West. How are you feeling this morning?”
“Fine,” I said automatically, though my eyes were locked on Drew, who was smiling warmly at Patrick. I purposefully hadn’t asked about the cocktail class, but I didn’t need to ask now to know it had gone well.
“Glad to hear it,” Patrick said, moving to check my vitals.
“Have you made any cocktails since our class?” Drew asked.
“Just for my parents. I haven’t had the guts to?—”
“So, Doc,” I cut in, perhaps a bit more sharply than intended, “what’s the verdict? When can I get out of here?”
Patrick turned his attention back to me, his expression shifting to professional focus. “Let’s take a look, shall we?” He gently prodded my leg, watching my face for any signs of discomfort. “Any pain here?”
I winced slightly. “A bit, but nothing I can’t handle.”
“Tough guy, huh?” He chuckled, making a note on his clipboard. Then, he helped me into a sitting position so he could listen to my lungs. “Well, West, I’m pleased to say you’re in remarkably good shape, considering what you’ve been through. The leg injury is mostly superficial, and your lungs are clearing up nicely from the smoke inhalation.”
I felt a wave of relief wash over me. “So I can go home?”
“I don’t see why not.” He nodded. “Provided you take it easy for the next few days. No heroics, no heavy lifting, and definitely no running into burning buildings.” He winked at me, then turned to Drew. “Think you can keep an eye on him?”
Drew’s hand found mine again, squeezing gently. “Don’t worry, Patrick. I won’t let him out of my sight.”
Something in Drew’s tone made my heart skip a beat. I glanced at him, trying to read his expression, but he was looking at the doctor.
“Excellent,” Patrick said, scribbling on a prescription pad. “I’m writing you a script for some mild painkillers, just in case. But mostly, what you need is rest and TLC.” He handed the prescription to Drew with a smile. “I have a feeling you’re in good hands, West.”
As Patrick left the room, I turned to Drew, suddenly feeling vulnerable. “You don’t have to babysit me, you know. I can take care of myself.”
Drew’s eyes met mine, and the intensity I saw there took my breath away. “I know you can,” he said softly. “But I want to. Let me take care of you, West. Please?”
I swallowed hard, overwhelmed by the emotions swirling inside me. “Okay,” I whispered.
As Drew helped me out of bed, his arm around my waist for support, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted between us. The air felt charged with possibility, and for the first time, I allowed myself to hope that maybe, just maybe, Drew felt it too.