They waited. Kate was there for him, holding his hand. Her quiet strength kept him from falling apart.
Eventually, Konstantin got to his feet. “Does anyone want anything? I’m going to see if the cafeteria is open. I need coffee.”
“Do you want to drive Kate home? She’s probably exhausted.” Banner looked over at her, sorry she’d been dragged into something so traumatic. Her hair was mussed, and her dress was rumpled, but she was more beautiful than ever.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
He thought of insisting she go, just to be polite, but he didn’t want her to leave.
They settled in. Kate was true to her word.
***
The waxy look of Rook’s skin made Banner want to vomit. The IV in his arm and the neat way the hospital sheets were tucked around him gave the whole tableau a surreal feeling—as though he’d just walked onto the set of a bad television hospital drama.
The boy’s eyes flutter open. He looks close to death, small and pale in the bed, like a bundle of sticks. Cue emotional outburst from older brother.
“Hey.” Banner squeezed Rook’s hand.
Either Rook hadn’t heard him, or he was still as out of it as he’d been last time it was Banner’s turn to come in. The doctor had said they’d got him to the hospital before there’d been any serious damage, but the tension in Banner’s gut wouldn’t dissipate.
“I’m sorry.”
“Shh. It’s okay. Don’t worry about apologizing.”
“No, it’s not okay.” The thinness of Rook’s voice tore at Banner. Tears gathered at the corners of the boy’s eyes and gradually spilled over.
Banner wiped at them with his hand, then looked around for a box of tissues. They were the miniscule square ones made from the sandpaper reject pile, so he used the edge of the sheet to dry Rook’s face instead.
“I tried to make myself throw up right after I did it, but I didn’t know how. The finger thing didn’t work.”
For some reason, that was a partial relief. Maybe he’d never do it again. They’d have to be careful and watch him.
“If you had died, I would have strangled you.” Banner wiped his own wet face with the hem of his T-shirt.
Rook squeezed his hand. “I know. I thought of how mad you would be, but only when it was too late. At the time, I kept thinking it would make your life easier.”
All of Banner’s manly reserve gave out. He carefully crushed the boy to him, as if holding him close would erase the past few hours. “If you ever think that again, just call me instead of trying to guess. You’re my best friend, jerkface. Who would I talk to about the meaning of the universe, and art, and our crazy family, and my problems with women if you ditched me?” He bumped Rook’s forehead with his own.
Banner got onto Rook’s bed and laid beside him. They stared at the ceiling in silence. He didn’t know what to say. But more than that, he was afraid of saying the wrong things.
Rook spoke first. “Meadow said you brought a date.”
“I did.” Banner grimaced. “I probably owe her a real date after this.”
“No shit. I’m sorry if I ruined things with her.” There was an edge of despondence in his voice, but he covered it with teasing. “Is this the one you’ve been whining about for months?”
“Yeah.” He thought about Kate sitting in the other room, and anticipation spread through him. Was she actually interested in their relationship being long term?
Hopefully, this hadn’t scared her off, but Rook came first in his life, and she needed to know that.
“I’m sorry I’ve been so distracted. I should have figured out what was going on with you without having to be told.”
“You’re my brother, not a mind reader, my keeper, or my therapist.” Rook was quiet for a while, as though he’d dozed off. Banner was surprised when he spoke again. “Mom seems different today.”
“I think you woke her up.”
“Maybe. We’ll see if it sticks.” Rook stared down the bed at their legs, side by side. Banner knew it used to bother Rook that he was so small compared to himself. He hoped he wasn’t dwelling on something that silly now.
He could feel himself dozing off, the lack of sleep and the ebbing of adrenaline finally hitting him.
“Banner?”
He startled awake.
“What?”
“I know this is a weird time to mention it, but don’t wear leather pants. They make you look like a moron.”
Chapter 19
Walking into Banner’s house felt as though she were coming home after a long day of work. As Kate stepped into the foyer, it overwhelmed her with memories and comfort. It smelled like him.
The door shut behind them, and she spun to face Banner. His eyes were bloodshot, and he hadn’t said much more than a few words on the ride home. He looked exhausted.
Her nerves were fried too. So many emotions swirled in her head, making her brain hurt. No amount of professional distance could keep her safe from the onslaught of emotions that had been in that waiting room. This wasn’t a client, this was the man she loved. He was her first priority.
“Thank you,” he rasped. “For everything tonight. I know it wasn’t pleasant for you, but I’m glad you were with me.”
She hadn’t done anything, really. The whole ordeal had been a family thing, so she’d kept her head down and stayed out of the way. She’d brought coffee and food to anyone who looked as though they needed it and sat next to Banner while he waited for his next turn to see his brother. Konstantin and Ambrose had seemed better equipped to help him through this, and they at least had some relationship with his family. But he’d still held on to her as if he were drowning.
“Anyone would’ve done the same,” she mumbled.
He nodded sadly. “You should go home and get some sleep.”
“No.” On the ride back, she’d already resolved to stay over with him. He needed comfort, not alone time. She wouldn’t push him to talk, but if he wanted to, she’d be there for him. “I’m too tired to drive home. Can I stay here?”
She hoped that by appealing to his protective side, he’d let her stay, and then she’d be there for him when he was ready.
His forehead crinkled as if he were surprised. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. We’ve had a long night.” She started toward his bedroom. “Come on. I’ll tuck you in.”
He chuckled. “Are you going to read me a bedtime story too?”
So he wasn’t so distraught he’d lost his sense of humor. That was good. Rook wasn’t the only one at risk. This opened a deep wound in the whole family. They all needed to watch out for one another.
They made their way to his bedroom, and he shed his clothes once inside. Now she wasn’t sure what to do. She didn’t want to intrude if he needed space, and she hadn’t processed what had happened just before the hospital call. They’d had a night of amazing sex, and there seemed to be some understanding that they were together, but where did they stand now? She didn’t want to be presumptuous by getting into bed with him. Were they a couple? Was it just for sex?
She stood awkwardly in the middle of the room while Banner collapsed onto the bed. When he looked at her, she said, “Do you want me to stay in the guest room?”
“What?” He pulled back the covers on the other side of the bed. “Get in here.”
That order, she would obey. She took off her dress, well aware of her nakedness, except for a pair of flimsy panties. But it wasn’t the time or place for sexy time. She got in and laid there awkwardly, wanting so badly to pull him into her arms and tell him everything would be okay.
Seeing him so destroyed tonight over his brother’s pain had stirred something in her—a fierce protectiveness so strong she’d had to fight back her own tears on the drive back from the hospital. His suffering broke her heart. Right now, all she wanted to do was to fix it. To make sure Banner knew he wasn’t alone, that he’d never be alone again if she had any say in the matter, and, more than anything, that he was loved.
Love. Her eyes welled with tears. He’d fought with Ambrose—over her. He wanted her. He’d said so. She was his. He’d said that, too, from what she could remember. Or had it been a dream?
Unable to help herself, she turned and curled her body around Banner. She imagined herself as a protective barrier, shielding him from the world, at least for now. He may have thought she was his, but he was just as much hers. And if he thought he was the only one with a protective side, he was dead wrong.
He was already sound asleep, his snores filling the stillness of the room.
Poor guy.
She hadn’t known much about his family before that night. Now that she’d experienced it firsthand, it was obvious why he was such a nurturer. From what she could tell, he’d taken care of his little brother for the last few years. His mother seemed as though she’d checked out, but her tears and worry might have been a turning point. His sister was . . . awkward and didn’t seem to read people well. Rook may have fared worse if it weren’t for Banner in his life.
She’d known Banner had a big heart, but now she understood the depths of it. He’d given so much of himself for his family. How was there anything left for him? No wonder he had trouble settling down with a girl. Even knowing he had family burdens and other priorities didn’t scare her.