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Every Kiss(90)

By:Tasha Ivey


His mindset on relationships is so freaking infuriating. “Well, then, maybe I’m not the right person for you. I think that, when the right person comes along, you’ll feel the connection between you. One that can’t be severed by anything life has to throw at you. You’ll know deep down that she’s worth the risk, and it will kill you inside until you take it. I won’t lie and tell you it won’t hurt me, but I’m your friend, and I’ll stand by your side until that person finds you. Even if it’s only as a friend, I’m going to be here for you. Always.”

“Cal, I . . .” My ringing cell phone halts his thought and he looks down at my pocket. I think we both know what this call is about.

It’s Eve.

My eyes fall to Wes’ bunched fists when I answer the phone. While I listen to Eve’s news, his whole body is frozen, every muscle is tense. I know he’s waiting to hear that she’s chickened out, that she couldn’t face him, but that’s not at all what I’m going to tell him.

“Thanks, Eve. I’ll tell him, and I’ll let you know what we’re going to do.” I shove my phone back into my pocket, and I look up at his weary eyes. I can see it. He’s preparing to build his walls a little higher, reinforcing them with the years of resentment and abandonment. But, no, I won’t let him this time. I just hope we won’t be too late.

“Tell me what?”

“Get in,” I say, jerking a thumb toward my car. “We’re going to the hospital.”





THE RIDE TO this hospital is silent for many reasons. Wes is apprehensive, he’s nervous, and obviously, he’s pissed at me for making him get into the car before I’d tell him why we’re going to the hospital. Well, that and the fact that I didn’t give him the choice to decide if he wants to go visit his mother there.

I can tell that he’s torn up inside. I know a part of him must want—need—to make this connection, to get some answers and maybe find a little peace. Forgiveness. But I’m sure there’s also still a lot of hesitation and fear of getting hurt. I can’t imagine what is going on in that head of his, and that’s one place I’m certain I don’t want to be right now.

“You okay?”

His head whips in my direction. “Shut up, Callie. Not now.”

Yep. Pissed. “Fine. Just tell me one thing.” I turn into the hospital’s parking lot and scan the rows for an empty space. “Do you want me to go in with you?”

“You can go in,” he says. “I’m sure as hell not. She’s your friend.”

I want to come back and tell him that it’s his mother, but I have a feeling that won’t work out so well for me. “Tell you what . . . I’ll go in first and find out exactly what’s going on. Then, you can decide. You owe it to yourself to see this through, Wes, and I’ll be right beside you if you want me to be.”

“Fine. I’ll let you know.”

He reluctantly follows me inside, trailing behind so slowly that I keep having to turn and make sure he’s still there. After finding a nurse and asking directions, I finally spot her room, but Wes stops me before I can make it to the door.

“I, uh, I’ll wait out here.” His demeanor has taken a sharp turn. He’s nervous. Vulnerable.

I stretch up on my tip-toes and plant a soft, lingering kiss on his stubbly cheek, catching the minty scent of the gum he’s been gnawing on feverishly since I told him we were coming here. “Don’t run, Wes. I’ll chase you.”

“I may run, just so you will.” He laughs nervously. Something in this phrase gives me a tiny shred of hope.

I pull back and grasp his chin in my fingers. “I’ve been chasing you for weeks. You just need to stop running, so I can catch you.”

He nods, suddenly serious. “I’m trying.”

“I’ll be right back.”

I nudge the wide door open just until there’s enough room for me to squeeze inside. The slow, steady beep from the monitor is only half of what my current heart rate is. I have no idea what to expect when I turn the corner into the small room.

“You came,” Eve says quietly, pushing to her feet from the recliner in the corner. She looks past me. “Wesley didn’t come with you?”

“He’s in the hallway, being his usual resistant self. Do you know anything yet?”

She crosses the room and motions for me to come closer, so I take the few steps necessary to join her at the foot of the bed. “I got here just before Hazel, her cousin, left to go get some dinner. Apparently, Chesley started feeling really disoriented last night and called an ambulance. She was unconscious when they got there, and she hasn’t woken up since then, but they’ve been giving her sedatives to let her rest.”