She never said it—hell, I never said it before today either—but she must’ve cared about me to still be so upset that I left. Maybe she even loved me—a little, anyway. I just have to get her to remember what that felt like.
How do I get her back to that place?
A cold draft washes over the top of the shower curtain. “Pops? I’ll be out in a minute.”
The curtain swishes back, the rings screeching along the ancient rod. I blink the water from my eyes as I turn.
Though she’s fuzzy for a moment, it doesn’t take seeing clearly to know that blonde hair.
“Hey, Buck. Miss me?”
“What the fuck, Arianne? How’d you get in, and where are the Thugs? What do you think you’re doing? ”
“Getting in the shower, hoping to get a little clean while we get a little dirty.”
I shake my head. “Oh, hell no! Out. Get the fuck out.”
Her hands slide over my pecs. “Buck, don’t be that way. Just make love to me. I’ve missed you.”
I push the curtain aside, stepping onto the tile floor, missing the rug. My foot slides out from under me. My arms wave. I almost catch myself on the counter, but I lose my bid for balance. A sharp pain explodes at the back of my head, sending a white flash before my eyes.
* * *
My heart has moved to my brain. It beats inside my skull.
How does that happen?
I reach for the sore spot where the throb seems to originate.
Cool hands pull at my arm. “No. No. Don’t touch it. That’ll just make it hurt worse.”
Nan comes into focus.
“He waking up?” Pops leans around her, his forehead wrinkled.
“I think so, call a nurse.”
My eyes are sticky and my lids heavy, or maybe it’s the over bright lights that make me want to keep them closed.
I force them open anyway. “What happened?”
Nan looks to Pops.
He takes her place, patting my hand. “You took a fall in the bathroom. Good thing Arianne was there.”
Nan lets out a loud huff.
I grip the bed’s side rail. “Arianne?”
“Yes. She said you two were…” He leans down, stage-whispering as though he thinks he’s quiet enough that Nan won’t hear. “…showering together.”
“Aw, hell. That’s right.” What the fuck is wrong with that woman?
A growl sounds from behind Pops. He turns as Lou yanks aside the curtain that surrounds the treatment space.
“Christ! Does she know what happened?” I ask.
Pops turns back to me. “Now she does.”
“Shit. Damn. Fucking hell.”
Voices rise and monitors scream somewhere close by as I sit up, yanking the little monitor off the end of my finger. I rattle the side rail, but it won’t budge.
Nan smacks Pops’ arm. “You moron, now look what you’ve done. You never could whisper worth a damn.”
“Calm down, Son. You took quite a bash to the head.” He puts a hand on my chest, trying to push me back.
“Thanks, but I’m fine.” I pull myself to the end of the bed and stand, untangling my legs from the sheet as I go.
The room sways a bit, but I wait it out. When it steadies, I go after Lou.
I stride past the abandoned nurses’ station. Everyone seems to be attending someone in distress on the other side of the emergency room. I leave them to their business and continue into the waiting area.
Three people in the emergency room, all of them armed with cameras. Fuck. They’ve found me. Paparazzi waste no time snapping pictures for whatever magazine they’ll sell them to.
Fuck them. I have more important things to take care of.
I scan the room for Lou. Maybe she’s sitting behind a ficus tree.
The sliding doors swish open to my left. The cold air from the vent just over the door kicks on to combat the heat from outside. It rushes over me—not just my arms.
Ah, hell’s bells.
This fucking day just keeps getting better.
I prop my hands on my hips. Naked hips. Naked hips that live just above my bared cock and ass.
I smile for the cameras. At this point, that’s about all I can do.
I yank open the door leading into triage. Nan and Pops stand by the counter. Nan, looking a bit frazzled, holds out a pair of my shorts.
I jerk my shoulders back just a notch as I take them from her. “Might’ve been good to put these on first, huh?”
Pops lets out a guffaw, slapping his thigh.
I pull the shorts on and take off again in search of Lou.
Where the hell did she go?
* * *
Lou is nowhere to be found. She’s not answering her fucking phone and she won’t return my texts. I swear, I could throttle Arianne.
Fucking stalker. Sneaking into people’s houses. Showing up in their showers.
And my god damned head is pounding like a mother fucker. This is almost as bad as some of the concussions I got back in my stuntman days.