Page 46 of Bleeding Hearts

“Sorry it took us so long. It’s been one of those shifts.”

“Tell me about it.” My discomfort prompts me to reposition myself. “So, what’s the diagnosis?”

“Bruised not busted. I’m putting you on restricted duty for the next couple of weeks. Your regular physician needs to reevaluate you in a few days. If he or she decides you can return to full duty, that’s their call. Personally, I think you should takethe full two weeks. I’ve seen the video, and it wouldn’t surprise me if you suffer psychological aftereffects.”

“You mean PTSD,” I snarl, the word tasting like bitter ash in my mouth. “Not gonna happen.”

Bethany’s face hardens, her expression turning serious. “He’s right. It’s common for first responders to?—”

“I’m fine. This isn’t my first rodeo. I don’t need someone psychoanalyzing me. Especially my girlfr… you. Especially you.” With a groan, I throw my legs over the side of the bed and push myself to a standing position. “Can I go now? I could really use a shower and a nap.”

Bethany’s serious gaze holds mine, her lips pressed together, though she remains silent. I can tell she wants to say more, but for whatever reason, keeps her thoughts to herself.

“You’ll be discharged soon. I’ve already spoken to the nurse. As soon as you sign the paper, you’re free to go.” He hands me a folder and gestures his head at it. “Just in case you change your mind about speaking with someone.”

I’m about to tell him I won’t, but the nurse bounces in with my papers and I’m more than ready to get out of here. After signing them, I quickly put my copy in the folder and then offer a hand to help Bethany up.

She ignores it and uses her cane. I’ll admit it hurt, but right now I don’t have the energy to fight about this. Whatever this is we’re clearly fighting about.

Walking beside her, I gallantly hurry ahead to open the door. Outside, I follow her to her SUV. Reaching it, I extend my hand, palm up, to politely request the keys.

“Fat chance.” With a decisive click, she unlocks the doors, her grip on the keys tightening. “I’m driving. Live with it.”

I nod and let her pass before opening her door. She places her cane in first before reaching for the handle above the door topull herself up and in. To ensure she doesn’t fall, I stay close, but avoid helping, since she clearly doesn’t need or want it.

However, once she’s inside, I stand next to her and place one hand on the steering wheel and the other on the back of her seat. “Look at me.”

Her head turns, a practiced, brittle smile briefly illuminating her face before fading. “What?”

“Just say it.”

“No.” She shakes her head, a frustrated sigh escaping her lips. “You wanna be a big, tough man? I’ll let you. For now.”

“For now?” I grunt. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“I thought you needed a shower and a nap. Do you really want to stand out here and have this conversation?” She leans back and her face softens. “Just get in.”

Leaning in, I give her a quick kiss on the lips, then step back and shut the door. Circling the car, I enter the passenger seat and buckle up. “You can take me to the firehouse. I need to grab my truck.”

“Sure.” Before reversing, she glances over her shoulder.

The drive to the station is done in an uncomfortable silence. I hate it, but I’m also not ready to have whatever conversation she thinks we need to have. I suspect the issue revolves around my failure to follow the doctor’s guidance on PTSD, but it might also be because I nearly referred to her as my girlfriend.

“Thanks for the ride,” I tell her as soon as she parks in front of the station. “And about what I said back there, when I almost called you my girlfriend, that was just a slip up. It won’t happen again.”

“Is that what you think I’m upset about?”A perplexed expression washes over her face as her brow furrows in confusion. “Because I’m not. Surprisingly, that didn’t bother me at all. In fact, I kind of wish you would’ve finished saying it,but whatever. We can talk about that later, too. You should go before I forget I’m trying not to lose my shit on you.”

“Okay.” I open the door and climb out. “But Bethany, can I make sure I heard you right? Let me get this straight; are you implying that you are now my girlfriend, and that we are officially dating? That I’m allowed to actually call you that?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. I need to think about it.” Her fingers lightly drum against the steering wheel. “Bring the girls over later. We can eat, then talk. Might be time to see what the kids think about us.”

“Sure. I’ll see you tonight.”

I close the door, and fucking hell if I don’t get a woody right there in front of the firehouse. That’s not what I expected her to say. Now I’m tempted to skip the shower and follow her home and have that talk after I fuck her brains out.

As I laugh, a surge of pain in my ribs reminds me of what happened earlier, prompting me to go inside so I can speak with the captain before I go.

Chapter 23

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