Page 53 of Dead Serious with Benefits
“I’m okay,” I said with a groan, rolling over to peer up at him. “Might have twisted my ankle and banged my shoulder, but everything seems alright.”
“Good God, you’re an…” he growled, cutting himself off and straightening. “Will?”
“Motherfucker,” Will groaned. “Why the hell do these damn things have to hurt so bad?”
“Will?” Ward repeated, his worry getting stronger.
“Probably the air bag,” I told him as I sat up. “Those things are hard as a rock when you hit them, and as smooth as sandpaper.”
“Fuck,” Will grumbled. “Are you two okay back there?”
“Fine,” I said, and sat up until a hand pushed against my chest.
Peering up, I saw Ward hovering above me, a frown etched into the stoniness of his face. “Stay down. We don’t know what state you’re in.”
“I’m quite aware of what state I’m in,” I protested, but I didn’t move, slumping back against the front seat and huffing. “I’m in full possession of my?—”
“Just stay the fuck put,” he said firmly, and I sighed. “Thank you. Will?”
“I’m still breathing, Jesus Christ, say my name one more time and I’m going to figure out if this fucking limo can still drive and find the nearest cliff!”
Ward rolled his eyes. “You stay put. Hold on a second.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” I told him, resisting the urge to roll my eyes when he stared at me meaningfully.
“Good,” Ward said as he reached the door and got out. I watched as he approached the limo’s front, opening the door.
“Damn it, quit!” Will protested as I heard a couple of thumps and a sliding sound. Apparently, Will’s good-natured personality went right out of the building when he was hurt or there was a problem. Not uncommon, but from the almost disinterested way Ward was telling him to calm down and hold still, he obviously wasn’t bothered by Will’s bad attitude. “Ow!”
“Well, if you stopped wriggling, it wouldn’t hurt as much,” Ward told him calmly.
“No, the friction burns on my face and arms will still be there, and they’ll still hurt when you touch them!”
“It’s nice to see you’re not in the least dramatic or sensitive in a moment of need.”
“Eat me, Ward.”
“I hardly think this is an appropriate time when my date is in the back seat and we’re dealing with a car crash.”
“It was a tactical car crash.”
“True. Thank you for ensuring we just got bumped around rather than risking a head-on collision with another vehicle. I’ll be sure to get you a raise.”
“Yeah, well, make sure your mom doesn’t fire my ass for this. I might beyourdriver, but my pay comes from her bank account.”
“My mother doesn’t pay your salary; I do. She just owns this car.”
“Great.”
“We’ll get you a new one. She can’t fire you, calm down.”
Sighing at their bickering, I slid into the seat rather than sitting on the floor, listening to them. They sounded like brothers. At some point, I heard Ward, and assumed he was talking to emergency services. Which meant my night just got a whole lot longer because I doubted I could just go home.
After a few minutes, Ward appeared, frowning. “I thought I said not to move.”
“The only reason not to move is not to exacerbate a dangerous injury. I have a sprain and a bruise. If I have a concussion, moving isn’t going to bother it much, and if I had broken my neck, I would have been dead before you came back to scold me for moving,” I told him calmly. “Sitting on this seat while I wait for the EMTs to check me over unnecessarily is far more comfortable than the floor.”
“You are absolutely terrible at making someone feel better,” Ward grumbled as he sat down. “Will is okay. Some scrapes and bruising, but he didn’t hit much.”
