Page 66 of Blue Moon Love

In the hospital, all I wanted to do was talk to her, see her, and hold her. It was the reason I checked myself out. I needed her, and since my phone was a casualty of the hit-and-run, I couldn’t call her. Also, there was a serious multi-car accident, and the hospital needed the bed I was occupying. But my main motivation for discharging myself against doctor’s orders was Kenna.

I had gotten the all-clear that I didn’t have a concussion, but maybe I must have knocked things around in my head because, at the hospital, my plan had seemed strong. Rock solid. I had one goal. I needed to see Kenna, so I sprung myself from the emergency room, bummed a ride back to the station from Brady Calhoun, who was there taking witness statements regarding the multi-car pile-up, threw on a change of clothes in the locker room at the station, and came straight here. There was just one problem with my brilliant plan: Kenna wasn’t home. I’d arrived over an hour ago, and there was no sign of her.

The wedding was tomorrow; maybe she’d decided to stay with Taylor tonight. I scrubbed my hands over my face in frustration as headlights appeared around the corner. My breath caught in my throat as I waited to see what vehicle they were attached to. When I recognized her car, I exhaled and stood up.

My palms were sweaty as I waited on the top step of her porch. I was nervous. Really nervous. Not counting when I was in the military and she was in college, this was the longest we’d ever gone without talking and seeing each other.

When she pulled up in the driveway, my heart was beating like Thumper’s foot in Bambi. She got out of the driver’s seat and walked straight toward me. She didn’t say a word as she marched up the steps and threw her arms around my neck. I could feel her body shaking as I wrapped my arms around her and held her tightly. She was crying. Sobbing silently.

“Hey.” I rubbed my hands up and down her back. “What’s wrong?”

“You!” She leaned back and slapped me on the chest. “You are what’s wrong! First, you got shot, and now you fly through a window!”

She swatted at me again, but I caught her wrist, gripping it tightly. Touching her felt so right, even if it was to stop her from hitting me.

“I didn’t get shot,” I reminded her.

“Yeah, but I didn’t know that. I couldn’t get a hold of you, just like tonight. I called you and called you and called you and called you, but it kept going to voicemail.”

“My phone got crushed in the accident. I have to get a new one. That’s why I waited for you on the porch.” That wasn’t totally true. I’d waited for her because I’d needed to see her, but if I’d been able to call her, I would have just gone to wherever she was so I wouldn’t have had to wait, which made it mostly true. “And I didn’t fly through the window. I just hit my head on the windshield.”

“They said you checked yourself out against medical advice. They said they wanted to keep you for observation.”

“They were just being cautious. I was cleared from having a concussion. I’m fine.” I figured I wouldn’t tell her about the dislocated shoulder or the cracked ribs just yet.

Her bloodshot, puffy eyes searched mine to see if she could trust what I was saying. She’d clearly been crying. She was crying because she thought something bad had happened to me. My first instinct was to lean down and press my lips to hers, to show her just how alive I was, just how alive we both were. But she’d made it clear that wasn’t allowed.

I lifted my hands and cupped her face. “I’m okay. I promise, my pretty girl.”

More tears began to fall down her face as her lip trembled. She sniffed and nodded as she threw her arms around my neck again and hugged me tightly.

This girl was breaking my fucking heart. Even though I knew it might make me a little bit of a dick, and I would never want to intentionally upset her, it did feel nice to see that she still clearly cared about me. Also, I was thoroughly enjoying holding her in my arms again. I’d missed her so much. I never wanted to let her go.

“Can I come inside?” I asked.

Without saying a word, she took a step back, wiped the tears from her face, walked around me, and opened the door. I went in behind her, and when I shut and locked it, an ease set over me. A sense of rightness. I was back in Kenna’s home, where I belonged. It was a baby step, but I’d take it. I hadn’t been here since the morning she’d given me the it’s-not-you-it’s-me talk. I’d been trying to respect her boundaries, to give her space, and to let her live her life.

We both said hi to Winnie, and then she walked into the kitchen, flipped the light on, and let her outside to do her business. When she turned around, she gasped, and her hand flew to her mouth. “Is that blood?”

On the porch, I’d been standing with my back to her flood lights, so I was in a shadow, and she must not have been able to see me clearly. I’m guessing what she saw wasn’t good.

After getting a ride back to the station from the hospital, I changed into workout sweats I’d had in my locker and left. I hadn’t even glanced at what I looked like in a mirror. But from the horror on her face, I had a feeling it was pretty bad.

I lifted my hand to my head. I had eight stitches on my head from where it hit the glass, and head wounds tended to bleed. A lot.

She rushed over to me. Her hand touched my neck and my arm. “It’s everywhere.”

I glanced down and saw that she wasn’t exaggerating. There was blood on my forearms and hands. I looked like Carrie at her prom.

“I need a shower,” I said, almost to myself.

“Okay.” Kenna nodded as she continued visually examining me, looking for more injuries.

“Will you help me?”

Without hesitation, she nodded eagerly. “Yes. Of course.”

Could I have taken a shower without her help? Probably. But I was in a lot of pain, and getting undressed and dressed was difficult. Also, the chance to get naked with Kenna again was not one I would pass up, even if it was out of pity. I’d take anything I could get at this point.

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