CHAPTER ONE
Blair
I’m lost in thought when my phone rings, snapping me out of my stupor. Four more days and I’m leaving the only home I’ve ever known. Ninety-six hours until I’m following my man halfway across the country. Just over five thousand minutes until I’m alone.
I’m kind of freaking out.
Even my usual pros and cons lists haven’t eased my mind.
Taking a deep breath, I put on a smile and answer my phone with as much warmth as I can muster. “Hello.”
“Hey Babe,” my boyfriend, Nathan, answers, his voice light. “How are you feeling? Two shifts to go.”
“I’m feeling good,” I lie. “Excited even. How’s the new apartment?”
“Lonely without you in it.” He laughs to himself while I frown. “How long until you’re here?”
“Four days.”
“Four days? Nooo. I miss you, baby.” Baby?
“Are you out with the boys?” I ask, confusion set in my features. It’s midafternoon and he’s usually incredibly strict with his schedule.
“I am.” He laughs again and the sound of it makes my chest tight. “They’re all being quiet for me. How did you know?”
“Lucky guess.” That and the fact that he usually only says “baby” when he’s out drinking with friends.
“We’re looking after him for you,” one of the guys calls out and I genuinely smile. I’m happy for Nathan. I am. I’m just having trouble being happy for myself. It’s the nerves. I’ve finally found a job that I love, and now I’m moving. It’s terrifying to think about starting over again.
“Please tell your teammates that I’m grateful, and that I’m looking forward to meeting them soon.” Nathan’s been in California since preseason training began months ago, and I’ve been hearing all about the guys on his new team.
After a phenomenal college football career, Nathan signed with Florida to stay close to home, but when his mom got sick, his game suffered, and last season, they traded him to Los Angeles. A move he only agreed to because his mom lost her battle with breast cancer last fall.
His new teammates have been incredibly supportive and I’m thankful for that. He needs them. And I don’t think he realizes how much.
“I’ll tell them,” Nathan interrupts my thoughts. “But first, I can’t wait to see you. I’m counting down the days.”
“Me too.” I force a smile and hope that he hears it in my voice. “I better go. My shift’s about to start.”
“Okay, baby. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
He hangs up and I sink back into my seat, my eyes flashing to the clock on my dashboard. I’ve got fifteen minutes to get my shit together. It’s time for a pep talk.
I’m doing the right thing. Nathan loves me. I love him. I’m going to find work so fast that I’ll regret it, wishing I’d given myself more time off. They say change is as good as a holiday, right? And in California, it’ll feel like a vacation twenty-four seven. I’m ready. I’m ready. Let’s go.
I bounce my shoulders and jump out of my car, giving her a pat before I walk away, glancing back at the hunk of junk longingly.
Cars are surprisingly sentimental to me, particularly this one, and that little Honda has been with me through good times and bad.
I hate the fact that I’m leaving her behind.
But I’ll say it over and over if I have to…change is as good as a holiday.
Taking a deep breath, I turn back toward the hospital I currently work in and release it slowly, willing the tension to leave me along with the carbon dioxide.
Four days.
Less than a week and I’m jobless. Yay for me.
“You’re here.” My friend Kayla greets me with an overexaggerated sigh the second I push through the doors to my ward. “It’s been a rough shift. I need to go home. But at the same time, I want to stay because I’m going to miss you.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yes. No. I’ll fill you in soon, but first… I’m desperate for some chocolate. Are you ready to begin or do you need a minute?” I glance down at my bag, then my watch and laugh.
I technically have ten minutes left before I’m due to start, but since I’m religiously early for every shift, they’re accustomed to my presence ahead of time. “You go. I’ll dump this quickly and see Billy at the desk.”
“Thank you.” She squeezes my arm, rushing off while I smile after her, only snapping into action when she disappears out of sight. I’m going to miss her too.
My boss, Billy, rubs his hands down his face as I approach before his weary eyes meet mine. With a wince, I rest my elbows on the high counter and flash him a tight-lipped grin. “I heard it’s been a rough twelve hours?” What am I walking in to?
“It has. But you’re here now. Are you starting or…”
“I’m starting.”
“Great, can you check on bed ten? I trust you not to get awestruck.”
“Awestruck?”
“You’ll see.” He bites back a soft smile while mine slips away. Okay then.
“Bed ten. I’m on it.” I’ve just made it to the end of the service desk when he calls out, beckoning me back over.
“As a heads-up, he’s under police guard.”
“He’s what?” My eyes widen as I panic. “Is he dangerous?”
“No, I assume it’s just protocol after what happened.”
“What happened?”
Billy schools his features before his eyes flash down the hall. “I’ll fill you in when you get back.”
God, what’s with the delayed gratification today? Everyone’s a tease.
Forcing a grin, I nod, walking away, and after rounding the corner, I find the door to bed ten and halt. They’re messing with me. There are no officers here. It must be a prank for my last week of work. Well, guys…you got me.
With a laugh, I knock on the door and open it an inch, calling out hello before listening for a response.
“Hello?” I call again. But nothing.
Grabbing the chart as I enter, I flick through the pages and frown at the notes. Knife wound. In and out of consciousness on arrival but stable since. And, sure enough, in bright red letters stamped across the page…Police custody. Meaning, no one comes in or out unless they have clearance.
And I just waltzed through the door without question.
I’m confused as I glance up at my dangerous patient, and freeze at the sight of him.
My heart jolts before picking up speed, racing as I take in his light brown hair, styled in a now messy mohawk, my eyes drifting to the intricate tattoos peeking out from beneath the sterile hospital gown.
A panic takes over me when I see the gold ring on his pinky, knowing that if I were to move it an inch, I’d find a tiny burn scar hiding underneath. As though no time has passed.
Zane Fitzpatrick.
The one that got away.
Oh, God.
Red and blue lights flash in the distance, and a gut-wrenching pain rips through my middle, feeling like I’ve had the breath knocked out of me. I double over, my hands clenched at my stomach, but it doesn’t help.
I couldn’t stop the sting if I tried.
I knew.
Call it intuition, call it a sign from some divine order…but I knew. And I’m devastated to be right.
With a wheezing breath, I take off running again, reaching the crash site just as the jaws of life cut through the windshield.
An EMT climbs onto the hood, stomping over a truck I hold dear to my heart, and I choke back the tears.
“Noo.” I sob uncontrollably as my legs give out, a pain shooting through me when my knees hit the dirt.
“Save him. Please. You have to save him.”
The crash of a metal supply cart, somewhere in the hallway, drags me back to the present and a shiver runs down my spine. Shaking off my thoughts, my eyes dart to Zane’s chart and I run through the checklist.
My heart lodged in my throat, I switch over to clinical mode and get on with my job, the job I’ve been doing for over a year now. A job that I love.
He’s just like any other patient. He’s just like any other patient.
In fact, staring at him now, while he’s sleeping peacefully, it’s easy to pretend he’s a different guy. That I’m not standing beside the hospital bed of the boy I once knew.
A vivid image of Zane brushing hair away from my face seeps into my mind, and I fight not to let it break me. Not to let my cheeks heat, because I can still feel the welcoming burn of his touch, all these years later.
God, I’ve spent countless hours thinking about him. Wondering if he’s okay.
On the inside anyway.
On the surface, he’s fine. He’s the NFL’s bad boy. He’s on TV. In magazines. The news.
I want to know about the feelings he keeps hidden, the secrets he holds deep within his soul.
Has he moved on? Or is he still a little bit broken like I am?
I’m desperate to find out, but at the same time, I shouldn’t be here. I’m not ready to face him.
I can’t face him.
Not now.
Maybe not ever.