Chapter 3 Weston
Weston
The ceiling tiles above me were doing a happy little dance, spinning like the wheels of a car. I didn’t know they made ceiling tiles that spun like that.
Ceiling tiles don’t spin, dumbass. You’re just stoned, I told myself. I frowned, blinking quickly. I looked at the IV in my arm and followed it to the pole next to me, and the bag that said morphine on it, even if it was a little blurry.
Okay, a lot blurry.
The door opened, and Savannah walked in. She wasn’t looking at me, but at the nurse who’d been taking care of me all night. I couldn’t tell if it was the meds and my busted head making her appear, or if it was real. I didn’t really care, honestly.
Hallucination or not, she was here. I grinned. “Sav.”
Her head whipped towards me, eyes red-rimmed and wide. “Weston,” she said, her voice soft, but far more apprehensive and guarded than the last time we spoke.
The nurse left us alone, and I was suddenly nervous. It was the first time we’d been alone in over a decade, the first time we’d even been within a hundred feet of each other in that long.
“Is this real?” I asked as she stepped closer toward my bed. But it wasn’t close enough. “Or are you in my head?” Please, please be real.
Her eyes ran over the bed before meeting mine again. “It’s real. I’m here,” she said as if she had to remind herself of it, too.
“Thank God.” I let my head fall back onto the bed and pushed back the wave of pain that came with it. “I thought that bull might’ve knocked something loose,” I said with a chuckle.
“That’s not funny, Weston,” she snapped. I looked over at her then. She had her arms crossed over her chest, her chin quivering. “You didn’t get up,” she said a few moments later, her voice brittle.
“Just needed a little nap. That’s all,” I joked, trying to lighten the mood for her sake and mine.
“I thought you were going to die,” she said, voice trembling as fresh tears rolled quietly down her cheeks. My smile faded. “I thought you were dead. You landed so hard, and then you didn’t get up. I didn’t”—she took a deep, shuddering breath—“I didn’t know what to do.”
My chest ached, not from my shoulder or head, but because of the devastated look on her face. Even after all these years apart, I had put it there. And I felt like shit for it.
“I’m sorry I scared you,” I whispered past the growing knot in my throat. “Come here, angel.” I held my hand out, hoping she’d take it and come sit with me.
“No.” She wiped her face harshly, sniffling. “You know, everyone knows about us now, right? The nurse came out there and told us you kept saying angel.”
She had always been so paranoid about everyone finding out and being upset. But not me. I couldn’t care less if I had tried, especially now that all that merger shit was behind us.
“I highly doubt that’s what gave it away,” I said, my voice slurring. Beau already knew, and if he knew, Claire did too, and God only knew who else. “It doesn’t matter anyway, the ranches are merging.”
“It does matter, Weston!”
I winced at the shrillness in her voice, my head ringing. “Please don’t yell like that right now. My head is pounding.”
She pursed her lips, looking at the ground. “Sorry.”
“I’ll forgive you if you come over here so I don’t have to work so hard to look at you.
” I didn’t care how much the lights bothered my eyes; I was going to soak up every second she stood in front of me.
But since she walked through the door, she’d been a kind of Savannah-shaped blob…
her features blurred too much for my liking.
She just stared at me for a long moment. I knew she was weighing options, wondering what would happen if she did, if she didn’t. Her mind worked twice as hard as everyone else’s just to exist, and while it made her brilliant, it also wore her out.
“It’s just me, angel,” I said softly. “Nothing to worry about.”
“Easy for you to say. You didn’t just watch you almost get trampled by a two-thousand-pound bull. And don’t call me that.”
I wasn’t going to pay attention to her little demand, not while I was the one laid up in a hospital bed. “No, I just narrowly avoided it instead,” I countered.
That brought her closer for whatever reason. She sat in the chair next to my bed, her eyes now level with mine. “There she is.” I smiled. “You’re not a blob anymore.”
At the arena, I couldn’t see her as well as I could now with her so close. She was still the most beautiful thing, just a little older. Her eyes were still that warm, chocolatey brown I was in love with. Except now they were a little bloodshot and tired. I knew that was my fault.
“I’ve missed you,” I whispered. “So much. You have no idea.”
“Weston…” She said my name like it was a warning, but to me, it sounded like salvation. Made me feel just as warm and fuzzy as the morphine did.
“I couldn’t believe it when I looked up and saw you. You said you’d never come to watch me.”
“I should’ve kept that promise,” she said. “You wouldn’t have been distracted.”
“There’s no way to know that.”
She looked down at the ground again, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I hear you have a tattoo now,” she said softly, still avoiding looking at me. “You always hated them.”
“I hated losing you more,” I said. “I wanted something to remember you by.”
She turned away, wiping her face. I wished so badly I could reach her and wipe away those tears. “You shouldn’t say things like that when you’re high off your ass.”
I think that just might’ve been the first time I’d ever heard her curse; she never had when we were together. I started to laugh at the realization, but winced at the pain. “Don’t make me laugh,” I groaned. “It hurts too much.”
She smiled this time. It was her real one, too—wide and bright and life-changing. Almost as if she was relieved to hear my laugh again.
The way she still made my heart race after all this time should’ve been studied. There was no point in hiding it either, my heart monitor was beeping like a goddamn car alarm attached to a neon sign that said: This fool is still in love with you.
And she was looking at it.
“Are you okay? Should I get your nurse?” She stood up, going to do just that. But before she could leave, I took her hand in mine.
“I’m fine, Sav.”
“But your heart—”
“Races when you smile at me. Yes, I know.”
She froze, her attention going to where our hands were joined. The room was suddenly too quiet, the air too loaded with things left unsaid. Things I’d been dying to say for a decade.
But all I could really focus on was the fact that I was touching her again. I never thought I would, honestly. I spent hours over the last eleven years remembering every moment we shared. Every kiss, every touch, every look. I remembered it all.
And maybe it was the morphine or the fact that it’d been so long, but she felt even better now. She didn’t say anything more about my heart. Just watched as my thumb ran over her knuckles. I wasn’t quite sure if she was breathing or not.
“I still love you, you know.”
She pulled her hand away at that, taking a tentative step back. “You don’t mean that,” she whispered, looking almost like she was relieved but also didn’t want to believe it. Or was afraid to. “You just think that because it’s been so long. Because of everything that happened earlier.”
“Trust me. I do.” I shifted towards her as best I could. “I never stopped loving you, Savannah. I tried. I really did. But nobody compares to you, angel. Nobody understands me the way you do.”
She shook her head quickly, refusing to hear it. “That’s ridiculous. I don’t even know you anymore.” I ignored the sting of her words and reached for her again, but she was just out of my grasp.
“But you could. We can start again. We can be together. For real this time, out in the open. We don’t have to hide anymore.”
Her expression shifted, like I had presented her with an offer she didn’t know whether to accept or not. “Weston…”
“Please.” My voice cracked. “I know I don’t have the right to ask you for anything. But…don’t go. Not yet. Not again.”
Her face went from overwhelmed to offended, with the same small crease between her brows that she’d get back then when I’d steal her last French fry. “That’s not fair, and you know it.”
I dropped my hand, my head falling back against the pillows with a sigh. “I know. I’m sorry. I’ve just missed talking to you.”
“I’m glad you’re okay. Really,” she said and took another step back from me, and my heart plummeted. I knew then I had gone too far. “But I can’t…today has been too much. Beau and Colt are waiting to see you anyway. I shouldn’t hog you anymore.”
“Savannah,” I pleaded, looking at her again. She was too far for me to see her clearly, and I wanted to jump out of the bed and bring her closer again, but I couldn’t.
“Get some rest, Weston. I’m sure I’ll see you around,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. She didn’t look back when she said it, and I told myself it had to be because if she had, maybe she wouldn’t have left at all. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking.
The door shut behind her, and it felt like she took all the oxygen with it.
I let my eyes drift shut, and despite the morphine’s best efforts, I couldn’t sleep.
Even with my spacey head, I couldn’t stop thinking of Sav.
Couldn’t stop thinking about the fall. I’d never gotten this banged up, never had this close of a call.
I’d seen guys leave the arena worse than this, but I never thought it could happen to me. And now that it had…
“Fuck,” I whispered to myself, running my free hand over my face. Tonight hadn’t gone how I planned at all. I was supposed to win a buckle and not see Savannah. Not nearly get trampled and face the past that haunted me.
A few moments later, the door opened again, but I didn’t open my eyes. Maybe if I didn’t acknowledge them, they’d just leave.
“You’ve always been terrible at pretendin’ to sleep, you know,” Beau said. “You look like dog shit.” I flipped him off with my right hand.
“You’re no beauty queen yourself,” I replied, squinting over at him in the chair Savannah was just sitting in. “And that’s with the drugs they got me on.”
“You scared the shit out of us, Weston,” Colt said at the foot of my bed, arms crossed over his chest.
Jesus, they really didn’t know how to lay off a guy when he was down. “I know.”
“Yeah, Colt nearly cried,” Beau added.
Colt shot him a glare. “I did not.”
“I don’t know, pretty sure I heard a few sniffles.”
“It was the dust from the arena. Got in my eyes.”
I started to laugh, but winced. “You gotta stop. Hurts like hell to laugh.”
“Then maybe don’t decide to see what it’d be like to fly when you’re on the back of a goddamn bull,” Beau said, the humor in his voice gone. “The hell was that? You look away for two seconds, and then you’re in the air like a rag doll?”
“What can I say? The air was calling my name,” I murmured. I knew I fucked up; I didn’t need big brother Beau to remind me again. The months I was about to go without riding were punishment enough.
“Well, next time, ignore the call,” Colt said. “Okay?”
I nodded. “Yeah. I got it.”
It was silent after that, the atmosphere in the room tense. I knew I scared them, scared everyone, for that matter. Hell, I scared myself. But there was nothing I could do about it now, so there was no point in crying about it.
“I think that’s the first time you never got up,” Beau said quietly.
“You didn’t even stay down that time you nearly got folded in half in Sugar Land. You popped up with cracked ribs and grinned like you were on the red carpet.”
“I was younger then,” I said. More like reckless. “Had something to prove.”
“What made tonight any different?” Beau asked.
“Now I know who’d wait all night to make sure I’m okay,” I replied quietly, unable to look at either of them. And I knew it wasn’t just them, but a lot of people. They were my people. My family. I wasn’t related to any of them by blood, but blood didn’t matter. It never had.
“I’m sorry I scared y’all,” I whispered.
“Just don’t do it again,” Colt said. “Beau’s getting up there, you know. He might have a heart attack next time.”
“Fuck off, you crybaby.”
“Ow,” I groaned between laughs, but didn’t tell them to stop this time. I needed the distraction, or I’d just think about Savannah more.
Beau clapped my good shoulder and stood. “We’ll get outta here so you can rest. Just wanted to make sure you were okay.” So much for the distraction.
I nodded. “Thanks. ‘Preciate it.”
Colt slapped my foot. “Brace yourself for the girls when you wake up. They’re gonna be on you like white on rice.”
“Looking forward to it.” I knew Savannah wouldn’t be one of them, but I had to hope, even if just a little.
“See ya,” they both said.
And then there was silence. Just me, the spinning ceiling tiles, and a whole lot of shit to unpack in my mind.