Page 88 of Teasing

Her throat is swollen shut.

They can’t get the breathing tube in because there’s no room.

“Bash,” Lenny screams and grabs my hand, and we cling to each other for more heartbeats than I can count.

“It’s in,” Bash breathes out, tears now streaming down his face.“It’s in.”

The medic buckles her poor little body to the stretcher, and they push her out of the room.

“Who’s the next of kin? We can take two with us,” they announce.

Bash grabs Lenny’s hand, and I refuse to let go of the other.

She’s not going anywhere without me.

“Only two will—” the medic begins to argue, and Lenny shoves me forward.

“Go with them. I’ll stay here for Maverick.” She kisses Bash and pushes us both through the door.

“What happened?” Bash asks as we jog behind the medics and into the ambulance.

“She ate a cookie,” I whisper, wondering if this is my fault.

“Scarlet and the waiter both confirmed they were safe. No nuts.” I manage to tell him through my tears as we take off for the hospital.

“She’s allergic to nuts? I need specifics,” the medic tells us as he works on keeping Rosie alive.

“Peanuts are the worst,” I tell him as Bash fills him in on everything else.

The medic takes a note. “Cross contamination is unfortunately more common than most people realize. They could have been peanut free, but if her allergy is bad enough, itonly would have taken someone touching peanuts and then the food if her allergy is severe enough.”

Bash’s eyes never leave Rosie’s face. “It is.”

I watch her chest move with each breath being pumped into her by a tube and want to scream. Her hand is cold in mine, and I refuse to let go. “I’m here,” I whisper and bring her it to my lips. “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere, Rosie.”

MAVERICK

With ten minutes left in the game, we’re up 24–0, and I stand next to Coach Ryan on the sidelines, watching as Camden gets us another first down.

Fucking beautiful.

“Mav.” One of the assistants grabs me.

I barely turn to look at him as I watch the offensive line get into position. “Yeah, man. What’s up?”

“I need you to come with me.”

I turn to the guy, who’s maybe only a year or two older than me. “There’s ten minutes left.”

“Mav—”

Brady Ryan turns away from the sidelines and looks at me.

Our QB coach isn’t looking at the field where our QB is, he’s looking at me, and dread washes over me. “Go with him into the locker room, Maverick.”

“Coach?” I ask as my heart slams against my ribs.

“You two,” he points at Ryker and Jamie. “Asses on the bench. Mav, in the locker room now. That’s an order. Go.”

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