Page 65 of Smooth Sailing
His voice faded, and all she could make out was people talking but not what they were saying. “Max!” she called out, gripping her phone tighter. “Talk to me!”
“I . . . I think I fell asleep,” his voice returned, thick with confusion. “The car . . . I don’t remember.”
Another voice, clearer this time: “BP’s 110 over 70, heart rate elevated but stable.”
She choked, unable to breathe. The room was suddenly too warm, too small. She pressed her palm against her forehead, fingers trembling.
“Max, I . . .” Her voice cracked. She swallowed, but her heart was lodged in her throat. “You told me you were tired.”
“Still tired,” he muttered.
“Are you okay?” she asked. The question was barely audible as guilt constricted her voice.
“I’m gooood. Like really gooood,” he drawled, his words stretching and blending. There was a pause, filled with machine beeping and a background discussion. “They gave me something that makes me feel almost as goooood as when your mouth is around my cock,” he announced to the entire ward.
A startled laugh erupted nearby, followed by a muffled snort and shuffling feet. She grinned despite the worry gnawing at her. “You’re really flying high, aren’t you?”
“Definitely,” he laughed, then grunted as if in pain.
That sobered her, and she grabbed her shoes and keys. “What hospital are you at? I’m on my way.”
“No. No.” he repeated something like ten times. “Don’t worry about it. It’s late. I know you gotta go tomorrow. We don’t want you driving tired. Believe me, it fuckkkking hurts.”
“I’m fine, Max, but I need to make sure that you’re okay.”
“Aw, you do like me.”
She choked out a laugh that sounded a bit like a sob. “Of course I like you. Now, where are you?”
He told her the name of the hospital. She heard the echo of the ER’s chaos ringing in her ears even after hanging up. Grabbing her keys, she raced outside. The night air was cold against her flushed skin, but she wouldn’t waste the time returning for a jacket and jumped into her car.
Streets usually bustling were now eerily quiet, lit only by the yellow glow of streetlamps. She sped through empty intersections. The clock on her dashboard mocked her with each passing minute. Her only companions were the soft whir of her engine and the occasional flicker of a traffic light.
She arrived in record time, barreling through the hospital entrance, nearly colliding with the sliding doors. Her chest heaved as she skidded to a stop at the nurse’s station, her handbag swinging wildly at her side. Going by the grin the nurse was trying to hold in she was probably the one who’d been in Max’s room when he’d commented on Paloma’s oral skills.
After checking the woman’s name tag, she said, “Hi, Kathy, I’m here to see Max London.”
The nurse nodded, fighting a grin. “Are you—”
“Yes, I’m the one that gives the excellent blowjobs,” Paloma blurted, her fingers drumming an impatient rhythm on the counter. “Can I see him?”
A choking sound erupted to her left. It was another nurse, wide-eyed and spluttering, dabbing at the coffee stain spreading across his scrubs.
Kathy bit her lip, a chuckle escaping despite her closed mouth. “Actually,” she said, her voice thick with suppressed laughter, “I was going to say, ‘Are you Paloma Wagner?’”
A warmth infused her cheeks, but she shrugged it off. “Well, that’s me too,” she said, her gaze already shifting to the room numbers.
“He’s in room thirty-nine,” the nurse said, then added, “And you’ll be glad to know he’s been cleared to go home. However, he does have a concussion, so he’ll need some care over the next few days.”
Her stomach dropped. “A concussion? Is it serious?”
“It’s mild, but all concussions require careful monitoring. I assume you’ll be staying with him?” Kathy asked, her tone matter-of-fact.
Paloma stilled her hand that was fidgeting with the strap of her purse. Her gaze darted to the calendar hanging behind the nurse’s station. Tomorrow’s date was circled in bold red. She was supposed to be in Traverse City tomorrow. Yet, the thought of leaving Max physically hurt. She’d stay, at least through the night. “Yes, of course,” she told the nurse.
Kathy nodded. “Good. I’ll give you detailed care instructions before you leave. For now, you can see him. He’s probably eager to get out of here.”
Relief filled her, but anxiety gnawed at her edges. “Thank you,” she managed, already moving toward Max’s room.
