Chapter 12
TWELVE
Elias tossed the empty stretcher into the ambulance with a force that made it rattle against the metal floor, his frustration boiling over. He yanked off his gloves, tossing them into the biohazard bin with a snap, the motion more aggressive than necessary. He could feel Waylon’s eyes on him, assessing, waiting. The man knew him well enough to keep his mouth shut at least.
Tim came around the side of the ambo. “What the hell? Everything okay back here?”
Waylon stretched his arms and spoke before Elias could. “Yeah, the Lion’s just cranky.”
Cranky doesn’t touch it .
Tim knocked twice on the side of the ambo. “Well, next stop’s Riversong. My turn to pay. That should cheer you up.” Tim smiled. “Always cheers me up.” He turned and jogged back around the driver’s side.
Waylon climbed into the back of the rig ahead of Elias. “Someone really needs to tell Tim he has a less than zero chance with April.”
Elias just growled. “Love makes you stupid.”
They rode in silence to Riversong, which was the last place Elias wanted to be right now. Bad enough he’d spent the rest of Sunday and all of Monday mentally watching Wren drive away, her last words ringing in his ears with such finality in her voice.
It was a great weekend, Elias . Thanks. For everything .
Was.
Which meant done.
Not even a last kiss.
Now, they were returning to the scene of the crime, the place where he stupidly let her go without an explanation.
The ambulance parked at the back of the lot. Waylon opened the door. Elias grabbed a tablet before he climbed out. Tim was already halfway across the parking lot, followed by Andy. As Waylon started to follow the other two men, Elias stayed put and scanned the parking lot instead, looking for Wren’s car, hating the way his heart sped up, hoping he’d see her leaning against the driver’s side, his jeans and shirt folded in her hands.
Nothing.
“You coming, Hunt?” Andy called when he looked back and noticed Elias still standing at the ambo.
Elias held up the tablet. “Gonna finish this. Just grab my usual, thanks.”
“Same,” Waylon said. He stopped walking, turned, and headed back toward Elias.
“Don’t need a babysitter,” Elias bit out, avoiding eye contact as he stared at the tablet, attempting to complete the last run report.
Waylon leaned against the side of the ambo and casually crossed his arms. “Okay, that’s enough, brother,” he finally said. His voice was low, calm, the same tone he used to talk down anxious patients on their way to the ER.
“I’m fine.” The words on the screen swam in front of him, refusing to settle into any coherent order. He ran his hand through his hair.
“You aren’t acting fine, and you sure as hell don’t look fine.”
Elias clenched his jaw, his finger hovering over the tablet. The concern he heard in Waylon’s voice—a far cry from the teasing banter they usually exchanged, especially on the job—grated on him.
“Just drop it, man,” Elias muttered. He forced himself to focus on the tablet. He was being unprofessional, and that was unacceptable. He’d been thinking non-stop about Wren from the moment he watched her pull out of Riversong’s parking lot without so much as a glance backward. He’d asked himself a thousand times what he’d done wrong. She’d seemed so happy joking with everyone inside, and then it was like someone in her head had turned on the air conditioner and she froze up. But he couldn’t afford to think about Wren now. Not at work.
Maybe not ever .
“This wouldn’t have anything to do with Wren, would it?”
“I said drop it, Ram.”
“It has everything to do with Wren. You’re not going inside because you don’t want to face April,” Waylon pressed, straightening from his lean and stepping closer. “Brother, what happened? You don’t want to take one look at April and see…what? That Wren told her you guys had a fight or something?”
Elias froze, his hand squeezing the tablet until his knuckles turned white. He didn’t answer right away, not trusting himself to speak. The silence stretched between them, thick with tension.
“No fight. Haven’t even talked to her since Sunday.”
Waylon’s brows furrowed. “Dude, it’s Tuesday. The way you were wrapped around her at the rec center, I figured you’d be calling in today with a—” he made a fist and pretended to cough, “—horrible cold, hack-hack, wheeze-wheeze.”
Elias shook his head and let out a bitter laugh.
“So let me ask you again—what happened?”
There was no deterring Ram. He’d keep pushing until Elias gave in.
Best to shut it down now .
“I don’t know. One minute, everything was fine, like you said. We were all laughing and joking with Stephanie. The next, I’m getting a weird vibe like she wants to leave immediately and not because she wants me to jump her bones. So, we’re in the truck and before I can ask what’s going on, she’s telling me to take her straight to her car. When we got here where she left it, I told her we needed to talk and that’s when she said goodbye like it was no big deal. Like this weekend meant nothing.”
He set the tablet aside before he crushed it, then pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Maybe it did mean nothing,” Elias continued, the words spilling out in a rush. “Maybe you were right, Ram. Maybe I’m just a good time for a weekend and nothing more. A professional wingman.”
“Hold up,” Waylon interrupted, his tone firm. “That’s not what I said, and you know it.”
Elias stared at him, his frustration giving way to confusion. “Then what the hell did you mean?”
Waylon sighed. “Look, Elias, I was giving you shit before because that’s what we do. But I never meant to make you doubt what you’ve obviously got with Wren. From what I’ve seen, she’s not just some weekend fling. You know that, too, or else you would have shrugged her off and wouldn’t be acting all bitchy today.”
Elias opened his mouth to argue, but Waylon cut him off.
“Listen to me, Lion. You’re a damn good man. A far cry from when we were teenagers.”
Elias almost winced.
“And you’ve found something special with Wren,” Waylon continued. “I know she feels the same way. I could see it, the way she looked at you when we came out of Gabe’s office. I might have had my doubts before, but that cinched it.”
“Yeah? What did you see? How did she look at me?”
“Dude, like you hang the fucking moon in the sky. So I don’t get why you just let her drive away like that. And now you’re telling me you haven’t called her? I told you—take her out, get to know her, didn’t I?”
“But she left. She didn’t even want to talk.”
“If you didn’t stop her right then and there, sounds to me like you’re the one who didn’t want to talk. Why?”
Elias felt the words hit him, sinking in deep. Good question . He wanted Wren, and for more than just fun. But Waylon was right—he let her go without a fight.
“I guess she figured out she’s above my paygrade.”
Waylon punched the side of the ambulance. “Are you fucking kidding me right now? This is not you.” He studied Elias. “So which is it?”
“Which is what?”
“Which is it that’s keeping you from chasing her? Is it your pride that won’t let you call and find out what’s wrong?” Waylon narrowed his eyes. “Or are you scared?”
Elias reared back. “Scared? Why the hell would I be scared?”
“You’ve never been in love. And the thought of even coming close to it scares you.”
Fuck . “It was only a weekend.”
“A weekend unlike any you’ve ever had with a woman before, am I right?”
“Damn straight.”
Waylon’s jaw visibly tightened. “I’ve been there. When it hits,” he grinned ruefully and shook his head slowly, “nothing else like it. You know it’s right, even if it’s irrational. Even if it’s…” He looked away, but not before Elias caught the bitter look in his eyes. Waylon didn’t have to finish his sentence for his brother to know.
Even if it’s doomed to end .
Waylon shook it off and snapped right back to his carefree self. “I don’t think it’s your pride for once, is it?”
Elias shook his head. But he still had too much pride to admit out loud Waylon was right—he was scared. Scared of fucking up. Scared of not being enough and hurting Wren, who in his eyes, was the perfect woman.
“Maybe she’s scared, too,” Waylon suggested, his voice softening. “Hell, maybe she’s got her own shit to work through. But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t care about you. Man, I could see it. We all could.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck .
Waylon was right. He’d let his fears color his perceptions, filter them through a lens of self-doubt. What if Wren was feeling the same way? What if she was just as scared as he was? Maybe when she left early the first night, it was out of her own insecurity, not to tease him. But what would someone as perfect as her have to be insecure about?
Waylon clapped a hand on his shoulder, breaking Elias out of his thoughts. “So stop acting like the damned Cowardly Lion, brother. You’ve never backed down from a challenge before, so don’t start now. Go after her. Hang onto her with both hands, and don’t let go until you’ve got the answers you need.”
A surge of determination flooded through Elias, washing away the uncertainty and doubt. Waylon was right. He needed to see Wren again, to talk to her, to figure out what the hell had gone wrong.
“As much as it pains me to ever admit this, you’re right. Abso-fucking-lutely right. Thanks, Ram,” Elias said, his voice steadier now, conviction replacing the earlier doubts.
“Anytime, brother.” Waylon gave him a knowing grin. “Besides, those were your jeans she had on, weren’t they?”
Elias chuckled. “Yeah, they were.”
“So you gotta get ’em back, right? Though, gotta say, her ass was way better-looking in them than yours.”
“Stop looking at my woman’s ass.”
“ There he is.” Waylon punched Elias’ arm.
Elias laughed and shoved Ram like they were kids again. Brothers who always had each other’s backs, and always would.
“So call her, man. Right now before April shuts Tim down for the billionth time and sends him out the door with our coffees.”
Elias took out his phone, called her, and put the phone to his ear, while plugging the opposite one. He turned away from Waylon for privacy, but his brother was already getting into the back of the ambo.
The phone rang. And rang. And rang. Then of course it went to voicemail.
“Hello! Thanks for calling Wren Stapleton Photography. I’m busy on a shoot right now but if you’ll leave your name and number I’ll get right back to you. Have a picture-perfect day!”
Elias grinned at her corny pun.
“Hey, it’s Elias.” He turned and glanced up at the entrance to Riversong. “I just want to say, I really love…”
Our weekend together. The way your eyes light up when I make you come. How you put up with my dogs. Your goofy sense of humor. How you look at me like I mean something. You .
“…that pair of jeans you swiped from me.”
The part of him that knew he was no better than a wingman prompted him: But what I love more is the way your ass looked in them. See you at Cocks and Strippers sometime maybe.
“But what I love more is…”
Tim and Andy stepped outside, coffees and a bag of breakfast burritos in hand.
“…the way your…”
Elias had about fifteen seconds before they rolled out.
“…the way your smile lit up the entire rec center. And how good it felt to hold you while you laughed. Pure joy, baby. Not sure what happened after that, if it was something I said or did wrong, but I want to fix it, Wren. I want to see you again. I want to talk. Like, really talk. Get to know you.” He chuckled. “Beyond your fondness for stealing my clothes. Call me.”
He disconnected and took his coffee from the cardboard holder Tim held out. “Thanks, man. Any luck with April?”
“Naw, didn’t even try.” But to Elias’ surprise, Tim actually looked cheerful. “I’m letting it go. I met someone else last weekend. Might be some potential there.”
“Dude, that’s great news.”
Tim looked fondly at the coffee shop. “Yeah. I hope someone brings April some joy someday. She’s a sweet gal under the snark.”
As they climbed into the ambulance, Elias felt a sense of calm settle over him. His heart told him he’d see Wren again, no matter what. He’d talk to her, find out what was going on in that beautiful mind of hers.
And this time, he wouldn’t let her go without a fight.