Page 29 of Some Kind of Forever
Is she sleeping okay?
Can you give me her number?
Wait, no, give her my number.
Is she awake yet?
What kind of flowers does she like?
“You got that boystressed,” Ashlie blurts with a giggle. “It’s pretty cute.”
Staring at the phone, I recall everything I can from the last twenty-four hours. I don’t remember the fall, but I remember Chase in the infirmary, concern etched across his face as I opened my eyes. The way he laced his fingers around mine to keep me alert during the drive here. Waiting with me until Ashlie got off work. Letting me squeeze his hand in response to the numbing needle, and staying while the doctor sewed me up. I remember him calling me sweetheart, and that thought gets my heart pounding in time to the pulsing in my head, making a nice rhythm for the gymnastics routine happening in my belly.
“Well, you should probably answer him then,” I say, nodding at the phone.
The nurse comes in with breakfast and a painkiller for my head. No sooner than I finish the limp microwaved bacon and scrambled eggs, there’s a knock at the door.
Chase stands in the doorway, carrying a bouquet of pink lilies, wearing a smile. Without the energy to find restraint, I allow myself to fully take him in for the first time since the day we met. The hair falling over his forehead, his crooked grin, the way his eyes glint when they meet mine, it’s enough to set my heart pounding.
Again.
“That was quick,” I say.
“I may or may not have been up and at 'em by six-thirty this morning…”
Ashlie shifts in the chair, grabbing her phone before standing. “And that’s my cue.” She shakes her head, laughing. “I’ll be back in a bit. You two have fun.” I watch her go, waiting for the door to click before looking back at Chase.
“How are you feeling?” His tentative steps match the nervous grin on his face. When he sits in the chair beside my bed, the thought crosses my mind that it’s not close enough.
“Like I hit my head on a log,” I tease. His smile falls, replaced with a look of concern. “Sorry. It’s probably too soon to joke about it.” The words stumble out of my mouth as I register the vulnerability flashing across his face.
Hesitating for the briefest moment, he reaches for my hand. The buzz of a billion atoms flows into our touch, and warmth spreads through my body as his thumb trails over my skin. “I was so worried about you… I’m sorry I couldn’t get to you in time.”
My breath hitches at the look in his eyes, and I’m lost to the deep blues staring back at me. “I…I’m okay. You don’t have to apologize.” I know he saw everything happen in real time, but his haunted look makes me question just how much I’ve underestimated his feelings for me. The look in his eyes shouts more than flirting and attraction. He looks at me like he cares about me, like he caresforme. And I have to admit, it’s not the worst feeling, being cared for. “So…are those for me?” I nod toward the flowers.
“Yeah. Yep…Yesss.” He nods and puts the bouquet on the desk next to me. Thumb hooking under my palm, he shifts his fingers over mine, his voice taking on a husky tone as he says, “Kayla, I?—”
The door swings open and in comes Mom, still wearing her scrubs from her travel nursing night shift. The concern in her eyes changes to surprise and then confusion as she looks between Chase and me.
“Hey, Mom,” I say, my voice increasing an octave as I move my hand from under his.
She eyes him before asking, “Who’s your friend…?”
“I’m Chase,” he answers for me, standing to shake her hand. “I’m one of the counselors at Camp Bender.”
“Yeah, he’s the one that saw what happened. He carried me back to camp and drove me here.”
“Well, I guess I owe you a thank you,” Mom says politely, taking his outstretched hand.
“Oh, no thank you needed.” Chase waves a hand in the air. “I’m just glad I was there to help.” Mom tips her head, looking at him while we all fall into an awkward silence. “Well, I should probably let you rest. I just wanted to check on you.” He smiles over at me, says another “Nice to meet you” to my mom, and walks out the door.
Mom turns around, arching her eyebrow as she comes to stand next to my bed.. “He’s cute…”
“He’s just a friend.” I shake my head, biting my cheek to keep from smiling. I don’t even believe myself when I hear the words slip out of my mouth.
“Uh-huh, and I was born last night…”
It’s Tuesday evening,and I’m already crawling out of my skin. My head hurts occasionally, usually when I try to do too much, but I’m itching to be productive. Mom is doing everything in her power to keep that from happening, including hiding my car keys and locking the vacuum in her bedroom. She wants me rotting on the couch, and I’m trying to do everything but.
