Chapter 10 Black Widow
CHAPTER TEN
BLACK WIDOW
TUCKER
“No, I bet it’s ok.” I say, feeling my pulse quicken. “Let’s try a bandaid. I just really wanted to go on the Ferris wheel with you.”
Taryn’s tongue comes out to lick the side of her bottom lip that’s already starting to swell up. “I don’t really think a bandaid will be enough.”
“You should listen to Taryn,” Colsen intervenes. “Did you hear that she’s a nurse? Her opinion is more educated than yours on these kinds of things.”
“You should keep your mouth shut.” I glare at my best friend. “This is all your fault. You should have told Taryn about the recoil. Look what you did to her lip.”
My words hit their intended target.
“Fuck.” Colsen hangs his head. “You’re right. I should have warned Taryn. Does it hurt, pretty girl?” He turns to look at her, brushing the pad of his thumb over her bruised bottom lip.
“Just a little. But I’ll live. Tucker, I can put a bandaid on that wound for now; it’s better than nothing until we get to the ER. But if you don’t get stitches, it’ll keep bleeding.”
“I don’t want to get stitches.” I insist. “I’ll be fine with a bandaid, maybe a sterile dressing or something.”
But if I’m stubborn, I think I might have found my match in Taryn.
“It won’t be fine. You have practice tomorrow.
You can’t be sure that you won’t be told to do something that will make that wound open again.
It’s right by your knee. If you bend it or put a strain on it, you’ll start bleeding again.
Unless you’re going to ask your coach to sit tomorrow’s practice out. ”
Fuck. I hadn’t thought about that. If I tell Coach that I got nicked in the leg by a stray BB gun bullet, my fear of needles will be the least of my problems. “Coach will kill me. Is there any way to make this better without stitches?” I ask.
Taryn’s delicate brows knit together. “Why is it so important not to get stitches?”
My best friend, the fucking traitor, snitches on me. “Tucker has a phobia of needles and blood. I’m surprised he hasn’t fainted. Anything more than a paper cut and he might lose his dinner.”
“Thanks, asshole.” I grumble. “If anyone should get stitches, it’s you.”
“Me? You’re the one who’s bleeding. Did you hit your head when you lost your balance?”
I glare at him. “No. But snitches get stitches, am I right?”
Colsen barks out a laugh. “You’re such a baby. Just stop whining and get stitched up.”
I don’t say anything as I feel cold sweat on my upper lip. I know Colsen and Taryn are right. “Ok. I guess.”
Taryn wraps her arm around my shoulders, and this time I shudder for an entirely different reason than the blood staining the gauze that she’s pressing against my wound.
Her soft, perfect tits are brushing against my arm and she smells so fucking good.
“Good boy. I’ll come with you and hold your hand while you get stitched up.”
I can’t help the smile I feel coming onto my face.
Maybe I can use this situation to my advantage, to get close to Taryn. As long as I can keep from passing out when I see the needle and the blood.
“Ok,” I agree, pulling her closer to my side.
“Colsen, did you drive here? I have no idea where the nearest emergency room is, but it would be good if Tucker didn’t put too much strain on that knee until we get it taken care of.”
Colsen’s eyes are fixed on my arm wrapped around Taryn’s waist when he answers.
“Actually, there’s an urgent care room just at the beginning of the pier.
They only take care of minor injuries, so I guess stitches qualify?
And since it isn’t far, I’m sure Tuck can walk there.
I’ve got him, you can follow us while I help him. He’s too heavy for you.”
“Thanks,” I say to my best bud through gritted teeth.
He’s trying to look innocent, but I know why he offered to help me walk to the opposite end of the pier.
Colsen is jealous that I have my arm around Taryn and he’s trying to cockblock me by inserting himself between me and my girl.
My girl.
I know I’ve just met Taryn, but the words feel right in my head. I need to make sure that I turn those words into reality. When Bex friend-zoned me last year, it hurt so much that I never want to feel like that again.
I’m about to say that I think I can walk and that Colsen can go home, but my problem is solved when a golf cart with the Star Cove lifeguard logo comes to pick me up.
“I hope you don’t mind me calling the lifeguards,” the booth attendant says. “I heard your girlfriend say that it’s better not to strain it until you get stitched up and since she’s a nurse…”
I thank the guy. He looks familiar; I think he might have gone to high school with Talia.
But the identity of the guy doesn’t really matter. He called Taryn my girlfriend, and that sounds fucking fantastic. I hope the universe is trying to tell me something, because I’m all in with the idea of making Taryn mine.
Even though there’s no need, I wrap my arm around her when she climbs next to me on the backseat of the golf cart.
“Ready?” the driver asks, and I’m about to say yes when my eyes land on Colsen.
This is my chance to cut him loose, and I should tell him to go back to camp.
“Almost,” are the words that tumble out of my mouth instead. “Can my friend come too?”
The driver shrugs. “If he doesn’t mind riding next to me, sure.”
Colsen’s gaze meets mine, and he doesn’t need to thank me. For some fucking reason, the disappointment I saw on his face reminded me of my own when I got shot down by Bex.
Besides, Taryn wanted to go home with both of us. And like I said to her before when my own wager with her ended in a tie, I want to win fair and square.
TARYN
I feel terrible.
I can’t believe I shot Tucker in the leg. It wasn’t on purpose, of course, but still. If Tucker ran the other way and never wanted to speak to me again after tonight, I wouldn’t blame him.
Just the thought of never speaking to him again makes me more sad than I could ever have imagined.
It’s a surprising feeling, since I just met the hot goalie. The physical attraction between us is something powerful; it causes my body to come alive with the smallest touch. My knees have been feeling weak all night. Every time Tucker sets those sapphire-blue eyes on me, my brain short circuits.
I also like the goofy side to his personality.
Most of the star athletes I met at my college acted like celebrities; self-centered and unreachable, they acted like they were God’s gift to women.
That included Tim. I was surprised when he showed an interest in me on my last night on campus.
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 after she’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 the woman’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?”