Chapter Twenty-Five
O nce in the med-surg inpatient room, Cal wrapped up the questions with Lieutenant Kate and let his body relax into the bed, trying his best to appreciate the one-size-fit-nobody hospital gown with complimentary air conditioning in the back. Before doing the first of the evening’s many neuro checks, the nurse had turned on the air cushion feature. Good news was he wouldn’t get a pressure ulcer. Bad news? It felt like he was sleeping on a shifting marshmallow.
Things could be worse.
He squinted in the low light and spied Deirdre, who half sat, half reclined on the vinyl loveseat, her head drooping. Her chin-length brown hair, normally styled, was a tangled mess, like she’d run her hands through it more than once. Despite the low light in the patient room, that silky maroon shirt of hers made her skin glow.
She was beautiful.
She was here. With him.
Calvin’s chest squeezed.
It took a brain injury, a brief coma, and getting admitted to his own hospital to wake Calvin up to a few key truths.
One, the comfort and rightness that Deirdre’s presence brought him was more than friendship. More than fake dating. Their connection was real. His desire to have her in his life was real.
Two, they were not the same people as when they were eighteen years old. Different priorities. Different history.
Three, he realized that he wasn’t second best to his best friend. It wasn’t a competition. He was the right guy at this time. If that meant the possibility of a future with Deirdre, he could accept that reality.
He turned his head, gritting his teeth against the head-spinning nausea and the ever-present headache.
She sighed, then lifted her head. “How are you doing?” Her tired smile triggered a deep-seated need to wrap her in his arms so that she could rest.
“You can go home if you need to,” he said.
She scrubbed her eyes. “No, I can stay. If you’re okay with that.”
“Very okay. There’s no one I’d rather have here.”
Hard to tell if she blushed in the dim light.
She shoved hair behind her ear. “Um, I’ll text your mom with another update.”
“Hopefully, that keeps them from worrying.”
She typed and nodded. “All done.”
“Deirdre.”
She froze, phone in hand, eyes wide. “Are you okay?”
“Stop worrying. I’m stable.” He studied her. “Who worries about you, Deirdre?”
“Sorry, what?”
“My parents fret about me.”
“Their job is to worry. They’re your parents.”
“True. I’m sure Mav checks in with you.”
“Of course. When he’s not living his own life.” She frowned and he wanted to smooth those lines with a fingertip. “Where are you going with this?”
“You’re so busy looking after everyone else.” He locked her gaze with his. “Who cares for you when you need it? When you’re hurt.”
The catch in her breath and stricken expression came and went in a split second. “I don’t have a head injury or living parents, so I’m fine.” Her voice cracked. “Thanks for asking.”
She huffed and rearranged the water container and the TV remote on the bedside stand. The busyness didn’t mask the shimmer in her eyes.
Fine, she could avoid the subject for now. But not forever.
Her prickly response to his probing questions actually made him feel more normal. It made the relationship seem real.
It was real. He hadn’t fully realized it until right now.
“So sorry we missed dinner tonight,” he said.
“You had a good excuse.” She pulled a chair up next to the bed, so they were at eye level. “It’s okay, Calvin. We don’t have to pretend to date.”
“No more pretending.”
A flicker of pain creased her forehead. “We shouldn’t be having this conversation here. You are concussed. You need to rest.”
Something shifted inside of him. “My skull might be cracked, but I know what I want.” He reached for her hand. “I’m tired of wasting time and avoiding the truth.”
He deserved happiness, and this was his chance.
Damn. Hitting his head had apparently knocked some sense loose. Or activated the part of his brain that forced him to get in touch with his feelings and face his fears. He swallowed.
Deirdre’s gaze slid to their joined hands. “Well, let’s start by talking about our game plan for the Breakup Festival.”
After a few seconds, he squeezed her hand as his eyelids dropped. “Okay. We’ll begin there,” he mumbled. “Eventually, we still need to discuss us .”
“Deal.”