NINE
RIFT
The look on her face was almost comical, but what I said was the truth. She blushed every time she looked at me. It was what women did. It was the reason my job was so easy.
A deafening silence filled my SUV as I drove across town toward the hospital. Getting her in my SUV had been much easier than I had anticipated. If she hadn’t told me she thought I was an Uber driver, I might have thought she was a total idiot for getting into a stranger’s car so easily.
I breathed deep, her spicy scent filling my lungs.
Gwyneth smelled like sweet cinnamon. It wasn’t her perfume. I was positive she didn’t wear perfume, but something about her smelled like candy and sweetness and spice.
My entire car smelled of it, and it made me curious if she had cinnamon candies in her purse. Instead of asking, I quickly thought of something more appropriate to discuss.
“Are you visiting a friend or family?” I asked, breaking the silence.
I knew the answer to my question, but she didn’t know I knew.
She nodded, careful not to look in my direction. “Something like that.”
“Something like that,” I repeated her words.
“Yep,” she said, making the P pop.
“Hopefully, it’s nothing serious.”
Again, I knew exactly who she was going to visit, and it wasn’t just someone. It was the entire pediatric wing. I also knew that while some of the kids didn’t have a serious prognosis, most of them did. So it was indeed serious. Anytime a baby or a kid was at risk of dying, it was really fucking serious.
Again, she nodded. “Thank you,” she muttered, not technically giving anything away.
Savannah Hope Hospital was beautiful in a strange way. The architect had put in the time to make sure every square inch of the building was standing art.
“I’ve always thought this place was beautiful,” I said, trying to pull her into the conversation.
A tiny smile tugged at the side of her mouth. Pride filled her expression, and I knew I’d said the correct thing.
“It really is. The design is perfect.”
“Definitely. And the pediatric wing is the most magnificent place I’ve ever seen.”
Her attention swung my way, and her eyes trekked across my face as if she were seeing me for the first time. I’d done it. I’d swooped in and said the thing that would snag her.
I knew the children at the hospital were the hot button for her, but the thing was, I meant what I said. The pediatric wing was amazing.
“I agree. It’s the most magical place on Earth. And the kids ...” She stopped, pressing her hands to her chest with a dreamy sigh. “They’re so smart and kind. Even though they’re sick and hurt, they still bring so much joy and happiness to everyone around them.”
The expression on her face was gorgeous, illuminated with joy and love. Looking her in the face made my stomach feel weak. Pain shot across my chest like a burning lance, and I gasped and looked away quickly.
What the fuck was wrong with me?
I was a businessman, and fucking women over was my business. It didn’t matter to me what kind of person she was, though typically they were terrible human beings.
Why did I suddenly care about the kind of person I was dealing with?
Sure, she was saintly from what I had learned so far. Sure, she worked hard for the hospital and spent any time she had off with the children or her father. She was everything a woman should be.
Kind.
Thoughtful.
Caring.
And so beautiful it hurt to look at her sometimes.
Why was Mitchell doing this to himself?
Why couldn’t he just suck it up and be what she needed?
She obviously deserved everything he could give her and more.
Again, I was struck by how much of an idiot he was.
Pulling up to the front of the hospital, I unlocked the doors for her.
“Here we are,” I said, trying to keep myself from looking her way.
“Thank you so much … what did you say your name was again?”
I grinned. “I didn’t tell you my name. Rift. You can call me Rift.”
She smiled at me, her eyes dancing with humor. “That’s different.”
They always said that.
Sure, it wasn’t my real name, but I wasn’t about to give them my information. The last thing I needed was a clingy broad looking me up.
I turned my attention her way, my eyes moving over her blushing cheeks, and gave her my most devastating smile. “Well, I’m different, so I guess it works.”
She stiffened, her cheeks blazing. “Thanks again, Rift. I really appreciate the ride.”
I chuckled. “I’ll give you a ride anytime you want one.”
The sexual innuendo in my sentence was more than obvious. I made sure of that.
She looked away, reaching for the door handle, and I could see her sweet blush beginning to crawl down her neck. Closing my eyes, I envisioned her entire body hot and covered in goosebumps for me. Her tanned skin pinked with the blush of lust.
My cock grew, and I shifted in my seat.
“See you around, Gwyn,” I said before she shut the door behind her.
She turned and looked at me through the window, and when her plump lips lifted into a grateful smile, I couldn’t help but feel like I was the one being played in this situation.
After leaving her at the entrance, I parked in the parking garage and made my way to pediatrics. It was a dangerous game to play since we had already had two official meetings, but I was drawn to her.
I wanted to know more.
Watch her more.
Learn more about her.
I crept down the hallway, careful not to run into her, and as I passed the rooms, I looked in at the kids and felt my heart hurt for them.
What she was doing was beautiful, and I didn’t know that I would be able to do the same. Seeing anyone physically suffer was hard for me, but when it was kids, it was ten times worse. I didn’t have a reason—a bad memory of hurt children or anything—but deep down inside me, a decent human being squatted, and anyone decent would hate to see an innocent child suffer.
Quickly, the thought of Gwyneth being innocent ran through my mind. I would make her suffer. What did that say about me?
Finally, I passed a room and saw Gwyneth inside. She was smiling at a young girl twirling in a blue dress. I stopped by the door, careful not to be seen, and listened to their conversation.
“I’m so nervous,” the young girl said.
Gwyneth’s deep chuckle filled the room, escaping into the hallway to wrap around me.
“It’s your first date, honey. You’re supposed to be nervous. It’s completely normal, trust me.”
“What was your first date like?” the young girl asked.
Again, Gwyneth chuckled. “It was awful. First of all, after dinner, he let me pay. Secondly, when it was over, he tried to kiss me, and it was terrible. He was the worst kisser ever.”
They laughed, then the room went silent again.
“What if Derrick tries to kiss me? I’ve never kissed anyone before.”
“Just breathe. I promise it’s going to be okay. Don’t do anything you’re not comfortable doing. If you’re not ready for your first kiss, then say so. Honesty is the most important thing in all situations. Just be honest with him. If he doesn’t understand, then he’s not worth it. But if you are ready, then just breathe, close your eyes, and let it happen. Either it will be great, or it will be terrible. Prepare yourself for both scenarios, just in case.”
They laughed.
Honesty.
She had said honesty was the most important thing. I had once believed that same thing. I believed it with all that I was until the person I loved and trusted the most in the entire world had screwed me over.
I couldn’t listen to any more of her wide-eyed notions. Honesty was a myth. No one was completely honest in their lives. It wasn’t real. Like unicorns and the perfect relationship. Honesty was a story that people told themselves … a fairy tale.
Starting toward the elevators, I suddenly felt like I was having a problem breathing.
Her words.
The sick children.
Everything around me was settling onto my chest like a one-hundred-pound weight.
Just before I made it to the elevator door, a young boy stepped out of his room, and I tripped over him, knocking his small frame to the cold black and white floor.
Quickly, I helped him up from the floor and dusted him off.
“Sorry, little man. I didn’t mean to knock you over.”
He smiled up at me. “It’s okay. I can handle it. I played football for two years.”
I chuckled. “Is that so? Were you any good?”
He was so small. I could see him getting seriously hurt playing football.
“I was the best.” He smiled so large, his crooked teeth showed.
“Uh-huh. How old are you, kid?”
“I’ll be fourteen next week.”
I whistled. “Fourteen? Dang, you’re getting old, buddy. Soon you’ll be graduating and getting married.”
I was joking, but he nodded and grinned. “Yep. I’m going to marry the sexiest woman on the planet.”
At that, I laughed. “You’re funny. Anyway, sorry about knocking you over. I was in a rush to get out of here.”
“What’s the rush?” he asked.
“Just have some things to do.”
“Do you think you could help me out before you leave? I could ask the nurses, but it’s kind of embarrassing.”
I stiffened.
I wasn’t the greatest with kids, and I was sure my bedside manner was shit, but I nodded. “Sure, man. What’s up?”
I followed him into his room. It was then I realized he had an IV and was dragging around the little rolling cart that held the medicine bag and the tubes.
He shuffled slowly into his room, holding the back of his hospital gown to keep it closed.
I looked around, taking in the bouquets of blue flowers and floating football balloons.
“What happened? Did you get injured playing football or something?” I asked.
He looked up, sadness creeping into his eyes before he grinned a little. “Or something.”
I moved into the room, and the closer he got to the bed, the more he struggled.
“Okay, so it’s behind the couch there,” he said, pointing at the couch across from his hospital bed.
“What is?” I asked.
“Something I dropped back there. Think you could get it for me? I would, but bending over that low is hell. I dropped it back there a few days ago, and I haven’t had the balls to ask for help getting it.”
I was nervous. There was no telling what he had stashed behind the couch of his hospital room.
I stepped around him and moved across the room to the blue fold-out couch pressed against the wall. Pulling it from the wall, I peeked behind it to see a magazine of some sort crumpled against the leg of the couch.
Reaching down, I snatched the magazine and pushed the couch back against the wall. My eyes moved over the cover, and I couldn’t help myself; I laughed.
“Playboy? Really, dude?”
He turned red and chuckled. “Hey, I’m almost fourteen. What did you expect?”
I flipped through the pages, shaking my head at the comedy of this young boy looking at naked women while trapped in the hospital. I hadn’t seen a Playboy magazine in years. Not since my freshman year when a friend of mine had snagged one of his dad’s and brought it to gym class.
It was an older one, and the women dressed as if they’d stepped straight out of the eighties, but I supposed that didn’t matter when all you wanted to look at were their overflowing tits.
I tossed it onto the bed. “Keep that hidden. I’m pretty sure the nurses would hate to find that in your room.”
He chuckled, shoving it under his pillow. “Yeah. Thanks, man.”
“No problem,” I said, starting toward the door, but before I could leave, he stopped me once again.
“Hey, Mister.”
“Yeah?” I asked, facing him once more.
It was then I noticed the shadows beneath his eyes and the tiny sprouts of freshly grown hair on top of his bald head. I had just assumed he had shaved it like a lot of kids his age did, but upon closer inspection, I could see that he had lost his hair and was just now growing it back.
My eyes moved over his small frame, taking in his frail arms and bony legs.
He wasn’t in the hospital for a football accident. He was sick.
“Do you think you could help me with one more thing?”
I moved into his room and took a seat in the chair by his bed. “Sure. What’s up?”
His face turned pink, and he scratched the back of his neck. The hospital band around his wrist said Christopher.
“There’s this girl. I really like her, but I don’t know what to say to her. Do you have any ideas on that?”
Leaning back in the chair, I found myself scratching the back of my neck nervously, as well.
“Wouldn’t you rather ask your dad questions like this?”
His face paled. “Um … my dad died three years ago.”
Fuck.
Poor kid.
First, his father dies, and then, he gets sick and ends up in the hospital talking to a woman hater like me about women.
“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.”
He shrugged and climbed onto his bad, careful to keep the back of his hospital gown closed.
“Tell me about the girl.”
I could help the kid. I was confident of that. As long as he gave me honest details about her, I could walk him through the exact steps he’d need to get her attention.
“Well,” he started. “She kind of already has a boyfriend.”
I chuckled and shook my head. “Don’t they all?”