Page 14 of Dr. Brandt

As I turned and hopped up the steps, I heard a thud followed by grunting noises coming from Jackson’s room.

“Warren!” I shouted, leaping up the steps.

Warren flew up the stairs as I threw open Jackson’s door to find him in a seizure. He was on the ground and kicking against his gaming chair.

Shit! Why was he playing a game with a seizure warning on the box?

Warren and I got him on his side and made sure he did nothing to harm himself while the seizure ran its course. This was what I was dreading, and now I knew I wasn’t losing my mind. I’d demanded further tests, but everyone was confident Jacks would be fine after his concussion. I guess I was the only one who saw that differently, so what was I thinking by not running with my instincts?

Nothing would stop me from getting a second opinion and having more scans to see why Jackson’s seizures were back. Then, I would get him the help he needed. Medical science had advanced tremendously, and I knew there had to be a better neurologist out there who would be willing to help Jacks get past this.

Fuck me. Cameron! The memory of Cam telling me this was his area of expertise made me nearly shout out his name. All I needed to do now was figure out how to get us referred to my ex—who happened to be a pediatric neurosurgeon.

Suddenly, I hated myself for deleting the phone number he gave me. There was nothing I wouldn’t do to be able to call him right now and get his help.

Chapter Seven

Cameron

I pulled up to Collin’s place close to an hour after finishing my shift at the hospital. You’d think I wasn’t born and raised in Southern California because I was dumb enough to leave during commuting hours, knowing damn well I would end up stuck in traffic for an hour just to go ten miles across town. There was no way around this bullshit, though. Taking side streets wasn’t an option because they were under construction, and the only other route would’ve sent my ass into the desert.

“Hey, girlfriend,” Collin smarted off, as he always did when he saw my Porsche. “Glad you finally fucking made it. I pushed out the dinner reservations, knowing your ass would be late since you insist on driving this Barbie car.”

“This little Barbie car can take that fucken Bugatti you drive any day of the week,” I said as I approached him in his driveway, nodding toward the closed garage where he kept his boy toy. “You know that,” I rose my eyebrows to meet his usual bright grin, “I know that, and even the cop who pulled both our asses over on PCH knows that.” I chuckled at the memory of the police unexpectedly showing up to a spontaneous drag race. Luckily, Collin’s smooth-talking narrowly got us out of costly tickets.

Collin rolled his eyes and sighed. “Well, that race was cut short, or else I would have easily smoked this car—”

“Good God,” I heard Elena call from behind us, a laugh in her voice. “I swear, if Collin isn’t trying to taunt you into illegally racing, he’s giving you hell for sleeping in or something.”

I turned and grinned at Collin’s lovely and full-of-life wife. She tucked herself into Collin’s side after he welcomed her with an open arm. These two were the perfect match. Both had gone through hell and back—amnesia and everything—but fate pulled through. They persevered through obstacles that most people can’t fathom, reinforcing that nothing can keep you apart when you’ve met your soulmate.

I’d like to think that could be true for Jessa and me. I really would. I had hoped for that night after night since seeing her again. I knew it was fate that’d brought Jessa back to me, and now fate needed to do some dirty work to get that fiancé of hers to move on and find his soulmate.

Jesus, Cam, I thought to myself. Give this bullshit a rest.

Since I’d seen Jessa again, my mind drifted to her constantly, no matter how I tried not to think about her. I couldn’t get through an entire conversation lately without daydreaming.

Collin snapped his fingers at me, his eyes glistening in humor as he stared at me with a curious expression. “Toss me the keys to this 911, my man,” he said, holding out his hand for the keys to my Porsche.

“I didn’t realize you wanted to win a street race that bad,” I chuckled.

“Yeah, in that case, forget it. Get your ass in your car, and I’ll follow you to your place,” he said, turning toward his garage.

Elena stood there and watched me carefully.

Shit, she must’ve caught my ass too. This wasn’t good. Giving Elena reason to wonder why I was so distracted was one thing, but giving Collin a reason was entirely another. I knew he would make this the number one topic of discussion when we met up with the guys tonight.

“Whoever she is,” Elena started with a smile, “she’s one lucky girl, Cam. Now, go have fun with the guys.”

My mouth dropped open. Yep, I was fucked. “It’s not what you think,” I stammered, trying to muster up some excuse. “Just going over a surgery in my head.”

She nodded. “Ah, sort of like Collin does?”

“You’re good,” I chuckled.

“I’m Cuban, and I’d like to think we Latin people know a thing or two about passion. Also, I’m married to a neurosurgeon, and you are practically his twin,” she said with a grin. “You’re both easily readable, especially when you lie.”

“Got it,” I sighed. “Well, wish me luck with her, then, will you?” Yes, I was desperate. I was this close to heading down to the closest church and asking the congregation to pray for me.

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