I’m halfway through my morning when I arrive at Lena’s room. Just as I’m making my way in, Maribel is taking her leave.
“Hey, sweetie—sorry I won’t get to stay for your hour today. George and I are juggling a lot this weekend. It’s like a zoo at home. It’s Josie’s birthday tomorrow, and Noelle has a cold, which makes it hard to include Lena, so we’re trying to figure it out.”
“Wow. Yeah. I mean, get out of here,” I say with an encouraging smile, pushing her out of the room. “Lena and I will be fine. Right, Lena?” I look over my shoulder just in time to see her nod in agreement, and then I grin at Maribel. “Go be supermom.”
She laughs, shaking her head at me. “I should be here next weekend. You can give me an update on Coder. He’s still update worthy, right?”
“Yeah. Totally.”
“Just what I want to hear,” she declares with a nod and a wink. Looking around me, she calls to Lena, “I love you, baby. Mommy will be back in just a few hours, okay?” She nods again. Maribel sighs before she whispers, “She’s been pretty quiet all morning. If you’ve got any new tricks in that bag, I’d give them a shot.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
We say our goodbyes, and then I take my seat at Lena’s bedside. “Hey, pretty girl! I went to the library yesterday, brought some new books. Do you want to see?”
She offers me another nod, and I pick out the books I think she might like. She points out the one that she’d like me to read first, and we dive right in. We read the first one twice, upon her insistence, and then move on to book two. When we get to book three, I hear it when her breathing starts to change.
“Lena? Lena, are you okay?” I ask, pressing the back of my hand against her cheek.
Her skin is clammy, and when she shakes her head in response to my question, I try and think of what Maribel would do if she were here. Before I’m even close to forming an idea, Lena starts coughing. I suck in a startled breath when I see blood at her lips, and then shoot to my feet when she starts vomiting blood.
“Oh, my god, Lena!” I’m quick to grab the bedpan, holding it to catch the vomit as I scream, “Nurse! We need a doctor! Help—somebody, please!” Feeling frantic, I look for Lena’s call button, and I press it over and over with my shaky fingers. My heart races and my whole body trembles in fear when I realize that Lena hasn’t stopped. Blood is pouring from her mouth, and I don’t know what to do.
“Somebody, help us!” I shriek.
“Kenzie, dear—we’ve got her.” I recognize that voice, but I can’t identify it, my attention glued to Lena.
Hands grab hold of my arms, giving me a gentle squeeze before I’m moved out of the way, a swarm of doctors and nurses crowding around the bed. In a matter of seconds, the lead doctor comes in, she does a quick exam, and then they’re wheeling Lena out of the room. Everything happens so fast, it’s like a blur. There’s a bunch of shouting, but I don’t understand any of it. I can barely hear anything other than the sound of my pounding pulse.
“Wait—where is she going? What’s happening?”
“She’s being rushed into surgery, Kenzie. Where’s Maribel? Or George?”
“They aren’t here! Shit—they’re not here!” I’m shaking so hard I can’t even think straight. What I just witnessed was terrifying. There was so much blood. She’s so little, and there was so much blood. “Is she going to be okay?”
“Kenzie. Kenzie, listen to me!” Pamela—that’s her name. She’s the head nurse on the floor. Pamela snaps her fingers in front of my face, finally earning my full attention. “I think it’s best if you take a seat in the waiting room.” I start to shake my head no, but she fixes me with a look—the look (the kind only a mother can master)—and I think better of it. “You’re a quivering mess, dear. You’re in no state to be a calming voice to the other children, and you certainly do not belong behind the wheel of a car right now. So you’ll sit until you feel calm.”
Not bothering to acknowledge her instruction, I repeat, “Is she going to be okay?”
With a sigh she admits, “I don’t know, dear. I do not know.”
I don’t sit in the waiting room. I can’t sit at all. I pace. I walk up and down the room, wringing my fingers, waiting anxiously for Lena’s parents to show up. I told Maribel that we would be fine. I didn’t know—I didn’t mean for this to happen.
It takes them an hour to show up. As soon as I see Maribel, I burst into tears. She rushes toward me, pulling me into her arms, and I blubber my apologies into her shoulder. I don’t even know if she can understand what I’m saying. I’m not even sure I can understand what I’m saying, but I keep apologizing anyway.
“It’s okay. Shhh, sweetie—it’s going to be okay. She’s going to be okay. She has to be. She has to be.”
I cry until I have no tears left, and then we sit together and wait—Maribel, George, Josie, and Noelle. Lena is in surgery for hours. The doctors come out and update Maribel and George, who try and explain to me what’s going on, but I’m too freaked out to comprehend any of it. All the words go into one ear and immediately fall out the other. It isn’t until I get a call from work that I realize I’m supposed to be there. I tell them that I can’t come in—that I’ve had an emergency, and they’ll need to find someone else to cover my shift. My boss isn’t happy, but I can’t find it in me to care.
It’s after five by the time Lena is back in her room. I should feel relieved, but I don’t. I’m grateful that she’s still alive, that she’s still here to keep on fighting, but she was already weak to begin with. Whatever happened, this surgery did her no favors. It may have saved her life, but I’ve never seen her look as fragile as she did when they wheeled her into her room.
Deciding to stick around until she’s had a chance to shake off the anesthesia and wake up, I hang out in the waiting room with Noelle. I listen to her read to me until she falls asleep in my lap. Brooke starts blowing my phone up at a quarter to nine. Remembering tonight’s party, I sigh in defeat. The last thing I want to do tonight is go to a party. I send a text, telling her that I’m stuck at the hospital and that she should go without me. When she asks if I’m sure, I insist upon it, and then I tuck my phone into my purse and ignore it for a while.
Forty-five minutes later, Lena wakes up.
My apartment is dark and empty when I walk inside. I’m not surprised. It’s almost eleven, and Brooke must have left over an hour ago. Heading back to my room, I dig my phone out of my purse and find that I’ve got three missed calls, all from Coder. My chest aches, my longing for him hitting me harder than it ever has before. It’s been a really crappy day, and all I want is to curl up in his arms and stay there for a while.
I try calling him back, but he doesn’t answer. I imagine, with the party in full swing, his phone is nearly impossible to hear. I come to the conclusion that if I want to see him, I’m going to have to go to that party, no matter how much I don’t want to. Deciding that enduring the party is worth seeing Coder, I gather my hair up and hop in the shower.
I stand under the water for ten minutes before I wash, reliving this morning’s nightmare. When my eyes start to fill with tears, I shake my head clear, scrub my body, rinse, and then shut off the water. Wrapped in a towel, I make quick work of my face, applying just enough make-up to look human, and then I hurry to my closet. Not particularly concerned with what I look like, I wiggle into a pair of olive green, skinny jeans, I throw on a plain white, oversized t-shirt, and shove my arms into my denim jacket. I leave my hair up in a knotted bun on top of my head, slip on my black, high top Converse sneakers, grab my leather jacket, and head for the door.
Twenty minutes later, as I’m walking up the driveway to the guys’ house, I’m greeted by Rigs.
“Mackenzie!” he calls out teasingly, his cigarette dangling from his lips. He’s sitting on one of the upside-down milk crates, along with a couple of other people I don’t know—also smokers—and Piper. She barely acknowledges my presence, let alone offers me a greeting.
“Hey, Rigs,” I manage, forcing the best smile I can scrounge up. “Welcome back.”
“Good to be home.” Nodding toward the door, he tells me, “Your boy’s in the kitchen, last I saw. Grab yourself a beer while you’re in there.”
“Thanks, Rigs.”
Not in the mood to figure out Piper’s deal, I don’t say a word to her before I make my way inside. The music is loud, and the front room is crowded. It looks more packed then the last party I attended, most of the faces I see not familiar to me at all. Not paying attention, I walk right into a cloud of marijuana smoke. I stifle a groan as I try blowing out the smell from my nose, waving my hand in front of my face. Continuing my journey to the kitchen, I ignore the laughter I’m sure comes at my expense, too focused on my hunt for Coder.
I hear Brooke before I see her. Then, when I reach the mouth of the kitchen, I find her laughing hysterically, her body curled up against Coder’s chest, as if he’s keeping her upright. He’s laughing too, and it’s like watching my fears come to life. Except, it doesn’t hurt like I thought it would. It’s worse. I feel my insides freezing over, going numb, as if my body just can’t take anymore emotional assault today.
I take one step back, and then another, and then Coder sees me. His gorgeous smile disappears immediately, and he shakes his head at me, as if he’s trying to tell me something, but it’s too late. I was too late. Brooke was here—and, as always, she got what she wanted.
Spinning on my heel, I waste no time getting out of there. I run to my car, regretting ever having stepped foot into that house.
As if all my body needed to thaw was a twenty-minute car ride with the heat blasting through the vents, I’m sobbing by the time I get home. My vision is so impaired, I can barely see the keyhole to unlock my door. Once inside, I drop my purse next to the coat closet, the bag still heavy and filled with children’s books. Knowing the reason behind the thud, and remembering little Lena and how completely and utterly useless I felt with her today, I cry harder.
Once in my room, I shed both of my jackets, letting them fall to the floor, too busy worrying about other things to care. When I’ve reached my bed, I sit on the edge, burying my face in my hands as I let the tears come in wave after wave of hurt feelings, frustration, fear, and sadness. I cry out every emotion I’ve felt all day, like I’m living each one all over again. I’m so distraught that I don’t hear the front door open and close. I don’t hear his boots as he stomps down the hall. I don’t even feel his presence as he fills my doorway. It isn’t until he flips on the light switch and speaks that I’m startled out of my thoughts.
“Babe…”
My head jerks up, my hands falling into my lap as I look at him. My heart pounds loud and fast inside of my chest. I’m so surprised to see him, it takes all of my concentration to ask, “What are you doing here?”
“Chasing after you. What does it look like? By the way, don’t leave that fuckin’ door unlocked, got me?”
All the air rushes from my lungs as I huff out a sigh of irritation, annoyed that he has the nerve to walk into my room and tell me what to do. “Just—go back to your party. Leave me alone.”
“Not going anywhere, babe.”
My eyes well up with fresh tears at the sound of his endearment. I really do love it when he calls me that.
“Are you going to tell me why you ran out of my house or what?”
“Explain?” I gasp, standing to my feet. “You need me to explain?”
“Uh, yeah,” he mutters, folding his arms across his chest. “I’d like to know why my girl showed up to my party two hours late only to leave after two seconds. I’d like to know why my girl left me to deal with that fuckin’ mess you call a best friend only to bolt before you tell her I’m your man.”
My whole body jolts as my spine goes rigid, completely caught off guard by everything he just said. “What?” I squeak.
“Babe,” he grunts impatiently.
I ignore his tone, shaking my head in an attempt to clear it as I ask, “You’re—you’re—did you just say, you’re—my man?”
“Good god,” he groans, reaching up to run his fingers through his hair.
“What?” I cry defensively. “We never—I mean, we never—”
“We never what? Babe, I call you more than I call my mother. You’ve left study guides and shit on my desk at the shop. I know your favorite order at Lazy Suzie’s. I’m not fucking anyone else. Hell, I’m not even fucking you—and for reasons I don’t feel like getting into right now, I’m okay with keeping my dick in my pants for a while if it means one day I get to sink it inside of you.
“And while we’re on the subject, you should know one thing for damn sure, babe—no man who’s not your man would let you come by his hand more than a few times without the promise of the same in return. But I’m here, and I’m in this, and I’m yours, and you sure as hell are mine—have been mine since the first time you walked into the shop, Mack. Now—are you going to tell me why you ran out of my house or what?”
My jaw falls open as I gape at him, completely and utterly speechless.
“Babe—if you don’t start spewin’ words, I’m going to come over there and fill that mouth with my tongue.”
I suck in a breath, pulling my bottom lip between my teeth as my legs instinctively press together. Then, shoving aside his speech for a topic to be discussed later, I remember what sent me running. “Brooke—”
He doesn’t let me finish before he starts closing the distance between us as he explains, “She was showing off. She’d just chugged sixteen ounces from a beer bong while doing a hand stand. She stood up, lost her balance, and I caught her. That’s it.”
I seal my lips closed, dipping my chin as I look down at his approaching boots. I have nothing to say in response to that. It’s clear to me now that it was stupid of me to run without allowing him the chance to explain. He’s right. For the last month, he’s been giving me reason after reason to trust him. And according to all that he said a minute ago, he’s in this just as much as I am.
When he’s reached me, he slides a finger along my jaw and then underneath my chin, lifting my head until our gaze’s lock. He studies me in silence for a minute before reaching up with his other hand and wiping away the tear tracks that I’m sure make me look a fright.
“Why were you late, Mack?”
His brow furrows as my lip begins to quiver. Just as I start to cry, he pulls me into his arms, cradling my head against his shoulder. I wrap my arms around him, holding on tight as I whimper, “It was Lena. God—I was so scared. I was reading to her and then—the next thing I knew—she was in emergency surgery. I couldn’t leave. I couldn’t leave her until I knew she was okay.”
“Fuck, babe. Is she? Is she okay?”
I nod, squeezing him tighter. “She’s stable, but she’s weak. Coder—it was so awful,” I sob.
“Why didn’t you call me?”
“I don’t know. I wasn’t really thinking.”
Pulling away from me, he shrugs out of his motorcycle jacket, tossing it onto the foot of my bed. As he bends down to unlace his boots, he grunts, “When I say I’ve got your back, babe, I mean it. I’m a firm believer in being there when the going gets tough.” He sighs, righting himself before kicking his boots off. Then he puts his hands on my hips, pushing me back until my legs hit the bed. I sit, and he proceeds to unlace my sneakers.
“Know what it’s like to think maybe you’ve got someone in your corner when life is shit, but then turns out you don’t. I’ve got my family, sure, and the Ink crew—but after my accident, I learned real fast that I wanted someone at my back the way Willow has Pete’s; or Grace has Harvey’s; or Daphne has Trevor’s.”
He pauses, ridding my feet of my shoes before crawling onto my bed. He props himself up against the headboard, opening his arm for me. I follow his lead, curling up against his side as he tucks me against him.
“I want that. But I want to give it, too. Seeing as I’m your man, you call me when this sort of shit goes down, yeah?”
I snuggle against him tighter, well aware that my heart has taken a dive in the last ten minutes, and I’ve never been closer to being in love in all my life.
“Okay,” I whisper.
We sit in silence for a while, and it’s perfect. This is why I went to the party, to see Coder, and to have everything he’s giving me right now. When my eyes start to grow heavy, the excitement from the day catching up to me, I tilt my head back and tell him, “I think I need to go to bed.”
“You cool if I stay?” he asks, his eyes meeting mine.
I don’t answer right away, not entirely sure of my answer. I’ve never spent the night with my boyfriend before. Obviously, my high school boyfriends weren’t allowed to sleep over, and I haven’t had one since I’ve been on my own. Even still, I was always taught that it wasn’t allowed. Beckham and Addie were together for years, and their boundaries were always so nonnegotiable.
But I’m not Addie, and Coder isn’t Beckham; and as my man once told me, rules were meant to be broken. So, thinking only of how nice it would feel to fall asleep in his arms after the day I’ve had, I offer him a nod in reply.
“Good,” he says before leaning down to kiss my lips.
He doesn’t linger long, and when he pulls away, I get up to grab my night clothes from my dresser. I tell him I’ll be back, and then I head for the bathroom to complete my nighttime ritual. I wash my face, then brush my teeth before changing. I usually sleep in just a big, old, comfy t-shirt and cotton shorts, and tonight is no different. I don’t even think twice about dropping my bra in the pile of clothes I wore for only a few hours, too tired to overthink whether or not I should keep it on with Coder in the bed with me. After I let my hair down, I gather my things and head back to my room.
I shut the door behind me, then drop all of my clothes on the floor next to my closet. Then I notice Coder. He’s already underneath the covers, laying back with an arm curled underneath his head, his chest bare, and his magnificent tattoo completely exposed. I look to see his shirt discarded on the floor. I also spot his jeans and socks along with it. My belly clenches, and I suddenly feel nervous about climbing under those sheets with him.
Looking over at me, a small smile curls one side of his mouth as he asks, “You good, babe?”
“Mmmhmm,” I murmur, my voice higher in pitch than I anticipated.
“Hit the lights, Mack. Get your ass over here.”
“’Kay,” I whisper, doing exactly as he’s commanded.
The light that peeks through the blinds of my bedside window is so dim, it’s barely even worth mentioning, making Coder appear as little more than a big, dark figure taking up a huge portion of my bed. As soon as I’m underneath the covers, he rolls toward me, resting on his side before pulling me close against his chest. I suck in a breath, surprised when my bare legs rub against his. I close my eyes, incredibly relieved that I shaved yesterday morning.
“Mack?” he mutters, earning my attention.
I open my eyes, even though I can hardly see him as I reply, “Yeah?”
“Mack?” he repeats, his voice sounding closer now.
“Yeah?”
“Babe?”
“What, honey?”
I feel his breath against my lips before he mumbles, “Found it.”
I don’t have to ask what he means, because his mouth is pressed against mine before my next inhale. He starts off slow and gentle before his tongue seeks entrance into my mouth. I open up for him, allowing him to kiss me long and sweet. His hands don’t wander, and he doesn’t let either of us get carried away before he stops. He offers me one more soft peck, and then returns to his back. He lifts his arm, and I immediately wrap myself around his side, resting my cheek against his warm, smooth chest.
As I start to drift off, I realize, “You’re missing your party.”
His lips grazing my forehead, he tells me, “I’m exactly where I want to be, babe.”
I sigh, surrendering to the pull of sleep as I whisper, “Me, too.”