17. Ian
17
IAN
I don't make a habit out of waking up in a bed that isn't mine. That is why confusion is the first feeling that settles in when I come to consciousness, and I realize I'm in a bed that isn't mine.
Popping my eyes open, I look around the room, and I immediately realize I'm still back in the hotel room with Sarah. I must have slept, which of course was the plan when I got in bed with her last night. I just didn't plan to fall asleep so early.
Sitting up, I notice Sarah isn't in the room. The shower is running though, which means she must be in there.
The thought of going to meet her occurs to me, but I'm not particularly interested in putting myself through another morning of no relief, and since I've decided not to have sex with her again until she doesn't feel I'm all about sex, I won't be able to touch her.
Better stay in here and wait for her.
Hopefully, the bliss from the remainder of last night will still be in the air.
I don't know what to expect from her this morning. We haven't exactly had the best of relationships, and yes, that's on me.
Am I suddenly thinking about doing something to change that?
Maybe.
I still don't know for sure.
As if summoned by my inner thoughts, the door to the bathroom opens, and out of it comes Sarah, looking like the only meal I want to eat for the rest of my life.
Damn, she's hot.
She's always been hot, but she's hotter now.
And now my dick is hard. Fuck.
Clearing my throat, I try to get her attention, but her focus is not at all on me. She closes the door and goes to open her bag.
“Good morning,” I say, startling her.
“Oh, shoot, I didn't know you were awake.”
“Well, maybe that's because you were so focused on getting dressed. Are you going somewhere?”
“Yeah, I have to be at the hospital in an hour. Some tests need to be run on me.”
“Okay.” I nod.
Glancing at the watch on my wrist, I see that it's only a few minutes to eight. That means her appointment is at nine.
“What hospital?”
“Macaulay’s”
Hmm. That's only a few minutes’ drive from here. She can get there within twenty minutes.
“Come here.” I beckon at her, wanting to have her in my arms for a few minutes before we have to part ways.
She looks at me, her lips pouting in hesitation, but she does as I ask. She walks toward me with the towel still wrapped around her body. I do my best to school my mind about what this is going to be about.
Just an intimate embrace between us, nothing sexual.
When she's in my hold, a sigh leaves me, and a murmur leaves her.
“This is nice,” she whispers.
“Yes, it is. We should do it more often.”
It's a test, something I'm putting out to see how she reacts to it. To my disappointment, there's no reaction.
Can't blame her.
Her hands roam around my back, her body warm against mine. “Okay, that's enough. I have to go.”
“Sarah. The hospital is not that far from here. We can get there in under thirty minutes.”
“And I am still not dressed. Do you know how long it takes a woman to get dressed?”
Fine.
Releasing my hold on her, I let her go, but not without expressing my disapproval in my expression.
“Oh, are you pouting right now, Ian?” she teases me.
Refusing to break, I school my expression.
“Come on, stop acting like I'm going away forever and you'll never get to see me again. You can stay here until I get back.”
Her offer sounds nice, and I allow myself to think about it.
Suddenly, a phone starts to ring, and I immediately know it's not mine. She steps away from me to pick up her call.
“Yeah?” she says into the phone. In a matter of seconds, I watch all the color drain from her face before she nods. “I'm on my way.”
She tosses the phone down on the bed, and takes some clothing out of her luggage without really looking at it.
I'm immediately on guard.
“What's going on?” I ask her.
She glances at me, her lips pulled taut and her eyes unreadable. She shakes her head. It's as if she doesn't want to tell me.
“Sarah?” I urged.
“I have to get to the hospital.”
Well, that was the plan before, wasn't it? But something has changed. Something has happened.
“Who called you?”
“It's Lauren, she's um, my…“
“Stepsister.” I finish for her “What did she say?”
She struggles to speak. I can tell she's hesitant to tell me what's going on.
“Come on, Sarah. This is me. You don't trust me or what?”
“No! It's not that,” she instantly denies.
“Then what is it?” I ask, getting off the bed and walking toward her.
“It’s my dad, okay? He passed out, and they need me to come in as soon as possible. And I don't know, I'm just worried for him, and that's strange for me, you know? I don't really know the man. He wasn't there for me when I needed him most, yet the thought of him dying bothers me. Am I that pathetic?”
Sighing, I move closer to her and pull her into my arms. She willingly lets me.
“No, Sarah. You are not pathetic. You are just a good person.”
“Well, being a good person sucks,” she says into my chest.
Patting her back, I hum in agreement. “Yeah, I know. But that's what makes people like you different from the rest of us, you know? You care, so you stand out.”
Pulling away from me so she can see my face, she pats my cheek, a sad smile pulling up her face.
“You don't give yourself enough credit,” she says, and then steps back, getting back to the business of the hour.
“How can I help?” I ask her, knowing that's the only thing I can offer her unrestrictedly right now. My help.
“I don't know, okay? I just need to get there as soon as possible without being hounded by the paparazzi.”
Got it.
Grabbing my shirt off the sofa, I put it on and opened the room’s door.
“Where are you going?” she yells after me as I step out of the room.
“Give me a minute.” I say and go to confirm if the paparazzi are still out there.
While they aren't as prevalent as they were last night, there are still a couple of them.
Sighing, I head back to her room. I'm going to have to drive her to the hospital.
“What you said last night about me being your bodyguard, is the offer still on the table?” I ask her as I come back into the room.
She glances at me, now properly dressed and trying to pull her wild curls into a bun, and nods.
“Good. I'm driving you to the hospital.”
She smiles at me gratefully. She doesn’t have to say thank you for me to know this means something to her. I'm hoping I can get to do more as time goes on.
She finishes getting dressed, snatches her bag, and puts her phone in it. With a shaky smile on her face, she turns to address me.
“I'm ready.”
“Okay.”
Giving her my hand, I wait for her to take it before I start to pull us out of the room.
I keep our steps easy and gentle while we're still in the safe haven of the hotel, but the moment we get outside and the vultures recognize us, I quicken my step, and she catches up effortlessly.
Several questions start being thrown at her. None of them are aggressive, but I can tell they all bother her. To their credit, none of them try to move closer to us, and I know that has more to do with the menacing look I have plastered on my face than the fact that they respect her privacy.
When we are in my truck, I help her get settled in and confirm she's alright before I drive us to the hospital.
Throughout the ride, she's overwhelmingly quiet, and even though it's bothering me that she's still upset over a bastard who left many years ago, I keep quiet, too, and let her have her peace.
Her siblings are waiting for her outside of the hospital when we get there, and I recognize them through the pictures from their profiles.
They don’t even spare me the courtesy of saying hi, just going straight for her, each of them flanking her on the side and thereby pushing me back.
Sarah smiles at me in apology, and I nod.
I don't give a shit about exchanging greetings with the two of them, anyway. I'm here for her.
When we're inside the hospital, she pulls her phone out of her bag and dials.
“Amanda, I'm here. Can you meet me in my father's room? I'll send you the room number when I'm inside.”
There's no hearing what the person says in response, but I'm assuming it goes well with her because she soon speaks again.
“Oh, that's good. See you soon.”
Both her siblings stare at her inquisitively, but neither of them ask the question. They are more focused on getting her to see the doctor.
We soon get to the reception section for cancer patients, and Sarah turns to look at me.
“I'll wait out here,” I speak, already knowing what she wants to say. She nods, but she still hesitates, as if she has something else to stay. “I'll be here for however long it takes,” I assure her.
That has her smiling a little before she's walking out of my sight.
I expect her to be gone for hours, two, three, four, maybe. I don't know. I've never had to be in a hospital for an emergency. But she’s back within an hour, a long frown on her face, and behind her are her siblings trying to speak, but she won't respond to them.
I immediately notice something's gone wrong, so I walk up to her and place a hand on her back, shielding her from the piercing looks and accusatory questions being thrown at her.
“Ready to leave?” I ask.
She nods.
That's all she has to do for me to take charge of the situation even though my heart is beating very loudly in my chest.
Please let it not be that there's any complication with her health, too.