Page 131 of Bae

“I’ll meet you inside,” I called into the car at Drew and Trent, then strode through the wide double doors.

I was prepared for a fight to get a room right away. I wasn’t about to fuck around in the waiting area for hours, all the while wondering what the hell was wrong with my wife.

Maybe it was some kind of complication from the car accident. Something no one caught when she’d been in the hospital the first time.

Thankfully, I didn’t have to fight. The nurse at the station was a dude and a football fan. He recognized me even though we weren’t in my home state.

“Right this way, Mr. Anderson,” he said after I told him my wife passed out and needed looked at ASAP.

He showed us into a cubicle with curtains all around. Gently, I placed Rim on the generic bed and took up residence in front of her. “Our family will be in shortly,” I told him. “All four of them.”

B and Ivy had followed behind us in their car with the car seat.

He nodded and cleared his throat. “I need to get her vitals.”

“Right,” I said and stepped aside so he could get to her.

I didn’t go far, though, and stared him down the entire time he was taking her blood pressure and her pulse.

“I’m sorry,” Rimmel told the nurse. “It’s not you. It’s him.”

The man and my wife shared a laugh.

I didn’t think it was funny.

Once everything was recorded into his laptop, he left us to wait for a doctor.

“Stop being so mean to the staff.” She admonished me. She looked better, more alert. Though her face was still too pale for my liking, and the circles under her eyes concerned me. Still, she looked pretty damn adorable sitting there with her legs dangling over the edge of the bed/cot thing. Her feet were bare because the second she’d dropped, I’d scooped her up, and we all piled in the cars.

Unable to resist, I moved back in front of her, balanced my palms on the corners of the bed, caged her in, and leaned close. “I’m not being mean. I’m getting results.”

She kissed me.

She pulled back inches, her eyes on mine, and smiled.

“Stop that,” I demanded, but it sure as hell didn’t sound very forceful.

She kissed me again.

I let her, of course. I wasn’t about to turn down some sugar.

“You like it,” she whispered against my lips.

“That I do.” I kissed her back. “How do you feel?” I asked, shifting away, scrutinizing her face.

“Not bad enough that I need to be here. I hate hospitals.” She stuck out her tongue.

I tucked a loose stand of hair behind her ear. “What’s not bad enough?”

“I’m just tired. I don’t feel good… Threatening to have your sordid past splashed all over the internet will do that to a girl.”

“He’s not doing the story,” I told her.

“Really?” Her eyes sparked with hope.

“Really. I already put his ass on a plane.”

“How did you get him to cancel the interview? Who’s to say he won’t just agree to another one?” She worried.

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