The Trauma Response (Give a Bookish Girl a Biker #2)

4. Chapter Four

Chapter four

Present Day…

“ W ait, wait, wait, are you trying to tell me she ghosted you? You? Mr. Flirtatious himself got ghosted by a woman?” Christian almost falls out of his chair laughing at Thor, whose eyes sparkle. There’s a lot more to his story, for sure, but I keep my mouth shut because every time I open it, the guys’ teasing shifts to me.

Brokedown Tavern is slow tonight, but that’s probably because hockey season hasn’t started. It’s still a few months off, but the tavern is popular with the Denver Dragons players even in the off season. For now, we have it mostly to ourselves.

Holt shakes his head and grabs another piece of bread from the basket at the center of the table.

“Maybe I was just too much for her to handle?” Thor teases. “I’m a lot of awesome to manage all at once.” He runs his hand over his red beard and chuckles while the whole table, even reserved Desmond, bursts out in laughter.

I’m probably the only one who knows Thor is messing with them because…dating? Not really his scene. He’s more of a wait for the right woman kind of guy, but his flirtatious ways tend to interest the wrong ladies. And by wrong, I mean women who don’t appreciate what a faithful, loyal guy he is.

The guys, also known as my riding buddies, are the closest friends I have. Thor’s flirty ways always give us a good laugh, but Christian can’t get enough of digging into his personal life tonight. Holt and Des exchange a glance, then both look at me. This will go on all night if one of us doesn’t intervene and change the subject. I nod slightly, accepting the challenge even though I’d rather keep quiet and let my mind wander to a set of gorgeous blue eyes I can’t stop thinking about.

“Hey, Chris, did you ever go test ride that bike you were talking about the other day?” I ask, shifting the topic to something we all love. Not that we don’t love women. We do, but so far Christian is the only one to have found a happily ever after.

“Yeah, it wasn’t really my style, but I’m looking at some others soon,” he says, waving off the question. He’s too interested in discovering how Thor crashed and burned to change the subject, probably because Thor eggs him along with winks and sly grins, but since Des’ repeated glances my way mean he wants to change the subject, I dig deeper into a different one and hope for the best.

“You’re filthy rich, my friend. Why not grab it and give it a chance?”

He shrugs. “Yeah, well, I have a family to think about, and setting an example of fiscal responsibility is part of that.” He’s just about to rag on Thor again when a light brightens in his eyes. “Hey, what ever happened to your friend? The one you rescued from the accident a few months ago?”

Drat. Now the conversation is centered around me. I lean back in the booth and take a bite of bread if only to give myself a second to come up with a line that will shut down further discussion. “She and her brother came by the station about a month ago, we had lunch, said we’d keep in touch, but I guess we’ve just been too busy. Haven’t heard from either of them.” I swallow and take another bite.

Thor grunts and points at me. “See, that right there is why you never get any dates. You don’t know how to flirt, and you talk with food in your mouth.” I throw my bread at him. “And you’re childish, too.” Thor eats the rest of my bread.

“I know how to flirt, thank you.”

“Cracking jokes all the time is not the same as flirting.” Thor raises an eyebrow and taunts me.

Holt ignores it all and says, “Tell us about her. All you said was that she was a childhood friend, you turned bright red, then changed the subject. Did you two date?”

“No, we did not. It wasn’t like that. Her brother and I were best friends through middle and high school, and she was kind of always there. We all drifted apart during college. It happens.”

“Didn’t you tell me she saved your life once?” Des asks so quietly, I’m not sure how the other guys hear him. I give him a sideways glance. He’ll speak up when he has something to say that will ensure the attention stays focused on someone else. Unfortunately, it almost always lands on me, the jokester who likes to make everyone laugh and turn everyone’s bad days upside right.

“She saved your life?” Holt asks, his eyebrows high with anticipation.

“She probably has a name,” Thor says, poking at me. “Want to share it?”

“Yes, she has a name. Tallulah Whitmore, but she goes by Tulip. I mean, she used to. It’s what most people called her, but I usually called her Whits or just beautiful.” The moment I admit I used to call my secret crush beautiful, my whole body breaks into a sweat. I’ve gone and done it now. The guys will never let me live it down.

Fortunately, Chantelle and her figure skater boyfriend, Jude, enter and distract them.

“Hey, what are you two doing here?” Christian asks. They had declined the dinner invitation due to a prior engagement, and since Chantelle wasn’t coming, Christian’s wife decided to stay far away from her husband’s slightly rowdy and annoying friends.

“Got done early and thought we’d join you,” Jude says, then leans in to kiss his fiancée’s cheek.

“You’re just in time to hear how Cai’s childhood friend, who may or may not be an old flame, saved his life,” Thor says. Of course, the two pull up a chair and offer their attention. I hate being the center of it, but at least it’s a quick story.

Once again, I’m blessed with a moment to think before weaving my way out of this mess. Our usual waitress stops by the table to refill drinks, and as usual, Des is completely oblivious to her staring at him. She’s tried to get his attention for months, but the guy doesn’t even notice. She clears her throat and reaches over him to get his glass, but his eyes are fixed, staring out the window.

Chantelle nudges me. I sigh and resign to the fact that I am the official topic of conversation now. “There’s not much to tell about it. Her brother dared me to do a double backflip off the high dive platform at a crummy community pool. I slipped and cracked my noggin on the board, fell into the pool and tried to drown. My idiot best friend forgot how to perform even the most basic of lifesaving functions. Whits saw it all happen from the clubhouse window, ran out, saved my life, and that’s it.”

Chantelle blinks a few times and looks around at the guys before her gaze settles on Jude’s. He snickers. “Seems like you left some parts out,” he says.

“Nope, now can we change the subject?” These guys can make a mountain out of a molehill when they team up, and I’m not going to give them any more fuel for the fire.

“Oh, come on,” Chantelle prods.

“Look, just because you write romance novels does not mean I have to give you a storyline.” I can’t stop my cheeks from flaming but try to distract them by reaching for another piece of garlic bread.

She narrows her eyes, but lets it drop. She’s going to ask me for details later, and one day, I’m going to read about my life in a book.

The waitress brings our food and, mercifully, the conversation naturally shifts toward other things, like work and plans for next week, working out when we can ride again, and talks about Chantelle’s next big book signing.

By the time we leave Brokedown and head out to our bikes, we’re the last ones in the tavern. It’s not uncommon for us to shut the place down, but tonight I’m not close to tired. I know I should head home to rest while I can—being on call means I might have to go back to work if they get busy—but my mind is running a hundred miles an hour. I’m reminded that’s a bad idea while manning a mini rocket when Thor’s deep voice booms through our comms.

“Uh, Cai, check your mirrors, buddy,” he says.

Rather than check my mirrors, I glance at my speed. Oh, that’s a nope speed. I ease back off the throttle and slow down, waiting for the guys to catch up. Our synced mics are nice, case in point, Thor reminding me I’m not made of steel and speeding down the interstate is a big no, but other times I need to be in my own head. Probably not while on the bike though.

“You good?” Christian asks. “It’s not like you to be a speed demon.”

“I’m good.” My curt reply probably doesn’t convince anyone, but they remain silent. I have no doubt they don’t believe me, but I’m honestly not sure what’s going on either. I can’t stop thinking about Whits, which isn’t a surprise. She’s as beautiful as she’s always been, but my dormant feelings about her surging back to life? Yeah, didn’t see that coming. I don’t know her anymore, and it would be foolish to let that old crush flame back to life…no puns intended.

We pull off on the next exit that leads to Thor’s place. He’s got to take his brother, Gunner, to an early appointment, not to mention all the other guys have to work tomorrow. I’m the only one with a consistently weird schedule that keeps me awake at odd hours. With that in mind, I decide I’ll make a loop around the city, try to settle my mind before I head home to an empty, boring house.

“I’m gonna split,” I say and turn left when the others turn right.

“Cai, are you sure you’re good?” Thor asks.

“Promise. Just gotta do something before I head home. Bring Gunner by the station sometime this week.” Thor’s brother, who has Down syndrome, always likes visiting me at work. The guys at the station love him, so much in fact, they let him drive the truck fifty feet across the parking lot a few weeks ago. They’re trying to convince Captain Swanson to let him man a hose next visit.

“Will do, Hotshot. You know how to get me if you need to,” Thor adds, reminding me he’s no fool. He knows something is up, but he’s not gonna push.

“Of course.” I cut the comms and let the silence take over. It’s just me and the roar of the engine, taking in the Denver city lights.

To think that Tulip and Jackson have been back in Denver for years is crazy. It’s a big city, so it makes sense we wouldn’t bump into each other, but I’ve been to the hospital a few times a year and never saw her. Then again, she was probably always in surgery. I never tread past the ER and into the depths of the hospital where she probably spends her time.

Bright lights and highways lead to quiet, winding roads, which eventually lead me to familiar neighborhoods. Ones I used to pass all the time when heading to hang out with my two childhood friends. When I approach their old street I hesitate. It’s late. Too late to drop in on Mr. and Mrs. Whitmore without them expecting me first. Even if I did stop by, there’s no guarantee Tulip is still staying with them while she recovers, and I have no idea where she lives now. I could always check the run reports and get her address, but if she wanted to see me, wouldn’t she have come by the station again? Called me there? Reached out in some way?

“What am I doing?” I ask myself and turn down a side street headed back home. If anything, she’s happy I was a familiar face after her accident and she’s ready to move on with her life. Things change. Time changes people, and just because Jackson said he wanted to reconnect doesn’t mean things will be like they used to be. Wanting something and following through are two different things. I should know. I wanted Tallulah Whitmore to be my girlfriend for years, but following through with asking her out went nowhere.

Those baby blue eyes are destined to gaze upon someone else with love and adoration, no doubt, and I’m not so sure my heart should get tangled up in the competition. With that in mind, I pull the throttle and pretend, just this once, that I’m as happy as the guys think I am.

But even the group funny guy has down days, and I have a feeling I’m in for a few of them while my heart gets over Whits all over again.