Page 6 of Indiscretion

“Would you like me to call social services for you?” The nurse smiled warmly. “Or the police, perhaps?”

“The police? Why would I want to talk to the police?”

She pointed her eyes to my now-casted hand. “There’s nothing to be ashamed about. My sister was in an abusive relationship for years and hid it from us. It happens to strong people. It’s not a reflection of who you are.”

I held up my arm. “You think I broke my hand fighting my abuser?”

“I saw your boyfriend in the waiting room. He was pacing and looked uncomfortable being here.”

“Well, I’m sure he is since we just met a few hours ago, and it turns out we’re destined to be enemies. But Dawson isn’t my boyfriend, and he definitely didn’t assault me. Actually, it was me who assaulted him. That’s how I broke my knuckles.”

The nurse pursed her lips. Didn’t look like she believed me.

“No, really,” I said. “There was some kind of a mix-up with our Airbnb reservation, and we rented the same cabin. I woke up in the middle of the night to find a half-naked man in my bed, and my first reaction was to throw a punch.”

“Oh my.”

I nodded. “Tell me about it. And it turns out we’re both in town for the same wedding, so I can’t even apologize and pretend it never happened.”

The nurse smiled. “Well, he’s got a pretty good shiner, so you must pack a mean punch.”

It dawned on me that we were going to ruin Lily and Ben’s wedding photos—me with this stupid cast, and Dawson with a black eye. I shook my head. “My friend is going to kill me. She planned this magical fairytale wedding in the middle of the forest, and Dawson and I are going to make it look like the Grimm version instead of the Disney one.”

She laughed. “Well, it could be worse.”

“How?”

“You could’ve punched an ugly man. I’m really glad that guy is not who I suspected he could be, because he’s something else, a real looker.”

She wasn’t wrong. Dawson was ridiculously handsome. I’d been thrown for a loop when I turned the light on. Who the hell notices that their intruder ishotin the middle of an altercation? I really needed to get laid. It had beenwaayytoo long. But damn…I was glad I hadn’t hit him in that chiseled jaw, and at least he had one baby blue left for me to gaze into.

I nibbled on my bottom lip. “I sawallof him, too. He was wearing a towel when I woke up, and my dog ripped it off. I’ll have to remember to give Leonardo an extra treat later.”

The nurse’s eyes sparkled. “And…?”

“He’s thefullpackage.”

The two of us cackled like old friends. It wasn’t very nice of me, considering the man had driven a stranger who punched him forty minutes to an emergency room in the middle of the night, but I needed the laugh.

The nurse handed me a packet of papers stapled at the corner, still smiling. “These are your cast instructions. The most important thing is to wrap it in a plastic bag and keep it dry while showering. Sealing it with a rubber band is the easiest. And don’t stick anything inside the cast, even if you’re itchy, because you can injure yourself. But you’re going to do that anyway, especially since you’ll be wearing this thing during the hottest months of the year, and you’re bound to get sweaty. So try to use a nail file or something without a point, at least.”

“Okay, thank you.”

“Follow up with your doctor when you get back to New York. But you’ll likely have the cast on for four to six weeks.”

I frowned. “Great. I’m in the process of looking for a new job. And of course, I’m a righty.”

She nodded. “People tend to punch with their dominant hand. I broke my wrist once, in a car accident. The worst part was trying to hook my bra. You don’t realize how much your hand bends and flexes to get those little hooks linked.” She moved the treatment tray from the bedside and took a step back. “But you’re all done.”

I hopped down. “Thank you for everything. Is there a ladies’ room I can use before I leave? It’s a long drive back to the cabin.”IfI was even staying there. I still had no idea what the heck Dawson and I were going to do.

Inside the bathroom, I was horrified when I looked in the mirror. I’d had false eyelashes put on for the first time before I flew out yesterday, thinking they’d look nice for the wedding. But apparently the glue hadn’t worked so well, at least on the right eye. My left, though? That one hadn’t lost a single lash. So it looked as if one eye was twice the size of the other. Not only that, I’d done a face mask before going to bed. The mud had been yellow when I applied it, but it had dried to a greenish-gray color, and apparently, I hadn’t removed it all like I thought I had. My face had two distinct patches of gray, one of which was on my nose and made my left nostril appear lumpy. And then there werethe blotches. I had fair skin that told no lies, so whenever I was nervous or upset, I broke out in patches of red.

“Jesus.” I turned on the water and started rubbing the leftover mud mask from my face. “I didn’t have to punch the man. I could’ve scared him off just turning on the light.”

A few minutes later, I walked out to the lobby of the emergency room with the remaining eyelashes removed and the clumpy patches of gray gone. There was nothing I could do about my blotchy skin. Dawson stood when he saw me.

“Damn.” He looked at my arm. “They out of white casts?”

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