Page 6 of Love JD

I gave her a tentative smile, and she returned it as the doctor pulled her to his side. She wore a loose, flowy black dress that made her green eyes stand out sharply. It gave her a very down-to-earth, artist-type vibe that I was sure would make her the “fun mom” if she wasn’t one already. Then she glared at the doctor. “Let them figure it out. Stop being nosy.”

He leaned down so their eyes were almost level. “Make me, bossy.”

I rolled my lips inward, fighting a smile. I didn’t know who these people were, but they struck me as entertaining to be around.

“Amos is my brother,” Azura explained, helping me to sit up. She’d been around me when I’d fainted once before, and I was grateful for her and Tristan, at least. Azura was practical. I liked practical. “And so is Zev,” she added with a look over her shoulder at the yeti.

Ah, so that was Zev. Wait, that was Zev? I looked him up and down with new eyes. Azura had talked about him before. They were both partners in the same law firm, and from the way she had described him, I had expected him to look like an unapologetic fuck boy. But he didn’t look like that at all. Or act like it. He’d been grouchy with me, not flirty. Somehow, I’d imagined him more suave and irritating. Although, he was attractive—really attractive—but it wasn’t in the sickly-sweet way I’d imagined. He looked kind of rough and stern. That was way hotter.

“Azura?” another voice asked from the doorway.

I resisted the urge to groan. How many of them were there? But then I realized it was the bride, and I felt guilty for even thinking ill of her because I’d clearly wrecked her wedding with my inane choices. I should have stayed home. I’d wanted to, but Tristan had insisted I go with him, and it was hard to say “no” to the brother who regularly saved my ass.

Laurel swooped into the room, fully decked out in her off-shoulder, lace wedding gown and lace-trimmed veil. Her caramel blond-highlighted hair had been curled softly over her shoulders, but in contrast to her devastating beauty, she carried granola bars and a red sports drink across the posh bridal suite and straight to me. “Isla! Are you alright? I am so sorry this happened.”

Like it was her fault. I wanted to tell her she was beautiful and perfect and that I felt horrible for doing this, but as per usual, I was me. I clammed up. And then I realized I hadn’t said a word since mentioning the sports drink, and that made my nerves crank up to an eleven.

Zev looked at me like I was crazy. “What did you say she has? Is it muteness or something?”

“Zev,” several voices scolded at the same time.

“What?” he asked incredulously. “She never answers questions.”

I answered them, you Neanderthal, I thought with a glower. And I am now changing my initial opinion about you and have decided your body hides a pimple-dotted ass for a soul, and your manners smell like it, too. I turned to Laurel and took the sports drink gratefully. “Thanks,” I mumbled. I unscrewed the lid, and taking a bracing breath, I started to down the whole thing.

While I chugged, Dr. Brady said, “Well, if you’re not calling an ambulance, then we need to get her to a clinic somewhere.”

“I’ll arrange for transport,” Tristan responded automatically. “I’ll go with her and make a few calls. I’d ask the two doctors I know, but…”

They’re in the wedding, I thought with an internal groan. They can’t just leave. I paused, intending to add my thoughts, but none of them were looking at me anyway. I stared down at the drink and my lip curled. I hated these drinks. Hated them with a fiery passion. But it was the quickest, non-medical way to get my blood pressure and blood sugar back up after my autonomous nervous system had malfunctioned. As it did. Frequently.

“I can go with her,” Amos offered.

“Amos, you can’t,” Azura disagreed. “Cade would be so sad if you weren’t up at the altar with him.”

“I think he should go,” the redhead offered. “Then I can be alone for five seconds.”

“June, will you shut up?” Dr. Brady growled.

“Make me, bossy,” she countered, mocking his earlier assertion. I got the feeling these two needed a room, some alone time, and a certified, NFL-sanctioned referee to work through whatever issues clearly plagued them. I tipped my head back and resumed chugging while I waited for them all to come to the inevitable conclusion that I was better off taking a taxi to the hospital like I’d originally suggested.

“Azura is right,” Tristan said wearily. “We can find another way.”

They were all silent, with only the sound of my gulping filling the room. Then, suddenly, Zev said, “I’ll take her.”

I choked on the drink, spitting some of it onto Azura’s pretty blue dress and dribbling it all down the front of the yeti’s dress coat. I coughed and gasped at the same time, putting my hand to my mouth and staring at the red stains on Azura’s dress, and then the red all over the fancy gray jacket. I slowly raised my gaze to meet Zev’s.

He gave me a look like a peevish feline. Azura chuckled, standing away from me. “I’ll find some paper towels.”

“Are you okay?” Tristan asked me, but his tone told me that he was trying not to laugh.

Spontaneous combustion would be welcome, I thought, offering up a prayer to whoever was in charge of that. Hades? A volcano god? “Sorry,” I choked out.

Zev rolled his eyes, his arms still folded. “Anyway. I’m friends with a concierge PCP. I can call in a favor.”

“In Salt Lake?” Dr. Brady asked suspiciously, his arm still around the girl who I assumed was June. She was trying to push him away, and he was stoically ignoring her attempts.

His brother gave him a lazy eyebrow raise. “Is that a problem?”

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