by Roni Loren
He didn’t see any obvious help before reaching her. When he got to the edge of the pond, he dropped to his knees. “Jamez, Jamez.”
She didn’t respond at first.
“Taryn.”
She looked his way, panic pinching her features.
“Tell me what’s wrong. Are you hurt?” he demanded.
She squeezed her eyes shut and clutched the neck of her T-shirt. “Chest. Hurts. Can’t breathe.”
Shit. “Okay, I’ve got you. Stay calm for me. I’m going to get you up. We’ll get you help.” His voice came out calmer than he was feeling as he took her arm and helped her to her feet, but his mind was already laying out a plan. He’d seen the ambulance parked near the start/finish line. He just needed to get her there. He tried to help her step out of the pond, but she faltered. Before he could think too hard about it, he bent and lifted her off her feet, dirty water dripping off her legs and shorts.
Her eyes went round, but she didn’t have the breath to protest.
“I’m going to get you to the medics. Just try to slow your breathing. You’re probably hyperventilating or having an asthma attack or something,” he said as he jogged toward the sideline and out of the way of the runners, carrying Taryn and trying not to jostle her more than necessary. He wanted it to just be hyperventilation. Real chest pains were far scarier to contemplate. But either way, time was of the essence.
“My friends,” Taryn gasped.
“I’ll find them for you later,” he said between breaths as he ran.
If people noticed Iceman from Top Gun carrying a woman to the finish line, no one came to help. Maybe they just thought it was part of the event. He reached the ambulance, panting and sweating.
A man and woman in EMT outfits were leaning against the ambulance, chatting, but as soon as they saw Shaw, they both hopped into action.
“What’s wrong?” the woman asked, rushing forward.
“She collapsed on the course. Chest pains. Trouble breathing,” Shaw said.
The woman nodded, no nonsense. “Let’s get her inside.”
Shaw followed her to the back of the ambulance, climbed in, and set Taryn down on the stretcher inside the vehicle. Both the EMTs went to work immediately, and Shaw stepped back, giving them space. Taryn’s eyes met his, fear there, but then they put an oxygen mask over her mouth and ordered her to lie down.
The male EMT spoke into the walkie-talkie on his shoulder and then looked at Shaw. “We’re going to take her to Austin Memorial. Follow us there.”
Shaw tensed. “But I…” Don’t know her. Need to find her friend. Have no business following. All the words were right there on his tongue, but instead, he found himself nodding. “Okay.”
He hopped out the back of the ambulance and pulled his phone from his pocket. He had three missed calls from Rivers, who answered on the second ring. “Where are you? I saw what happened but lost you in the crowd. Is she okay?”
“They’re taking her to Austin Memorial. I’m going to follow,” Shaw said. “Find her friend and send her that way. I don’t want Taryn to be by herself.”
“Yeah, absolutely. Go. I’ll find the unicorn,” Rivers said, going instantly into mission mode.
“Thanks.”
Shaw ran to his SUV and caught up to the ambulance as it was leaving the park. The red lights flashed in his vision, and sweat dripped down his back. He didn’t know this woman, but he found himself sending up pleas to the universe for her to be okay.
Forty-five minutes later, Shaw was sitting with his hands clasped between his knees in a blue-tinted waiting room with a noisy vending machine. A nurse stopped in front of him, his white shoes interrupting Shaw’s view of the gray floor. “Lucas Shaw.”
Shaw looked up.
The middle-aged man gave Shaw a kind half smile, dutifully ignoring Shaw’s ridiculous costume. “You can come in and see your friend. She’s doing okay now.”
Shaw stiffened. He’d been hoping Taryn’s friend would be here by now, but Rivers had texted that they’d gotten stuck in traffic. Shaw cleared his throat. “Um, okay.”
He followed the nurse down the hallway and into a small room near the back corner of the building. Taryn was inside, awake, her bandanna gone and her fingers clasped in her lap on top of the blue hospital blanket. When she looked up and Shaw stepped inside, surprise crossed her face.
“I brought your friend for a visit,” the nurse said cheerfully. “The doctor should be back soon to give you discharge instructions and then you can go.”
Taryn wet her lips and gave the nurse a wan smile. “Thanks.”
The nurse checked something on a monitor and then left them alone in the room, awkwardness filling the space in his absence.
Shaw folded his arms across his chest and swallowed past the dryness in his throat. “Uh, your friend…the unicorn should be here any minute. Rivers found her and let her know what was going on.”
Taryn winced. “God, poor Kincaid. She’s going to be in a panic. Does she know I’m okay?”
“Yeah, I texted Rivers. He’s riding here with her since I took the car.”
Taryn sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose beneath her glasses. “Thank you. And not just for that. Thanks for doing this, for helping. I’m so sorry.”
Shaw shrugged and stayed by the door. “Nothing to be sorry for. You needed help. The doc said everything’s all right?”
She shifted on the pillows, looking more than a little uncomfortable. “Yeah, I feel pretty stupid right now. I thought…I thought I was having a heart attack or something.” She looked down at the covers and picked at a stray thread in the blanket. “Turns out it’s just mild dehydration and exhaustion.”
“Exhaustion?”
She smoothed the blanket. “Yeah, apparently it’s a bad idea to pull an all-nighter going over research, skip breakfast because you’re running late, and then attempt to break land speed records at a race the next morning when you’re completely out of shape.”
“You’re not out of shape,” he said without thinking.
Her attention snapped to him.
“I mean…” he said, backpedaling. “Well, I saw you running before you fell. If you were completely out of shape, you never would’ve been able to do that. But yeah, that doesn’t sound like a good pre-race plan. I didn’t realize exhaustion could cause chest pains. They checked your heart?”
“Yeah, everything looks okay.” Her mouth tilted wryly. “According to the esteemed professionals of this fine establishment, the chest pains were just straight-up stress.” She made a disgusted sound in the back of her throat. “So yeah, I made a complete spectacle of myself, ruined your day, and freaked out my friends, all because I’m apparently a little stressed and didn’t sleep enough.”
Shaw relaxed his stance and stepped fully inside the room. “You didn’t ruin my day. I’m glad you’re all right.”
“You keep seeing me at my very worst,” she said, sitting up higher in the bed. “I’m usually not this much of a disaster.”
“Maybe I’m bad luck,” he said, not entirely joking.
She laughed. “Yes, this is clearly all your fault. Good thing you turned me down for coffee. Who knows what would’ve happened?”
“I didn’t turn you down,” he said before he’d thought out the implication of the words.
Her brows lifted. “No, you’re right. You just…disappeared before I got to hear the no.”
He blew out a breath and leaned against the wall. “I’m sorry. That was a crap thing to do. I guess I just didn’t know what to say.”
She smiled a warm, easy smile. “I’m a big girl, Lucas. I would’ve been able to handle a no. It’s not a big deal.”
“I didn’t want to say no,” he said almost under his breath.
Taryn was quiet for a moment. “Oh?”
Hell. How’d he get
himself in this conversation? “Yeah, I…I don’t date. Things in my life are too busy right now with the new business to fit anything else in, so I didn’t want to…give a false impression.” You know, like a fake name and a bogus life history. “But I also didn’t want to say no, so I left. I’m sorry. I know that was lame.”
Taryn leaned back against her pillow, relief crossing her features. “It’s fine. Believe me, I’m well versed in the too-busy-to-have-a-life school. I’m right there with you. When I got off the phone that night, I was turning around to tell you I needed to offer a rain check if you said yes.”
He chuckled. “The coffee that truly wasn’t meant to be.”
“Maybe we could have one in a completely non-date capacity at some point. I have a lot to thank you for, it seems. I might even get you a pastry. If gym owners actually allow themselves such decadence.”
Decadence. He could think of a lot of decadent things to do with Taryn, and none had anything to do with baked goods. But he forced himself not to remember how good she’d looked in those running shorts and that thin T-shirt earlier today, not to notice how beautiful she was, even worn out, wearing a hospital gown, and without makeup, not to picture how sexy she’d been onstage when she sang. This was not the time, the place, or the woman. Plus, what kind of guy checked a girl out while she was in the hospital?
A dickhead. That’s who.
He cleared his throat. “I am not opposed to the occasional treat.”
“Cool, maybe we—”
But before she could get the words out, the door burst open behind him, and a crowd of people tumbled in, led by the unicorn and followed by superheroes and old TV stars. Taryn’s real cavalry had arrived. Shaw stepped back, trying to melt into the wall and disappear. And after a few minutes, he did just that, slipping into the hallway and not looking back. He had no place here.
This is not for you.
She is not for you.
Chapter
Seven
Taryn sipped the large milkshake Kincaid had picked up for her on the drive home from the hospital and tried to keep her expression neutral as she and her friends made their way back to Long Acre. Kincaid was driving, and Liv and Rebecca had dispatched the guys to return Taryn’s car to her house since no one wanted her to drive yet. Her friends had then piled into the back seat, insisting on seeing her home as well.
Taryn was thankful for the support, but she was struggling to keep it all together in front of her friends. The doctor had discharged her with firm instructions to work on her stress levels. At first, she’d been outright dismissive of the doctor’s advice—Oh, stress, everyone has it, right? But the doctor was having none of it. She’d told Taryn straight up, This can kill you. Your body is giving you a warning. If you don’t take the warning, next time it will move to crisis phase to get your attention. Her friends had been in the room, and she’d seen their reactions to the doctor’s words, the deep concern.
That was when the reality of it all had settled in for Taryn. The chest pains she’d felt on that course had been real. At first, she’d thought maybe she was having some sort of panic attack because people were chasing her and maybe that had triggered something. But she’d experienced anxiety before. This had been different—a terrifying tightness in her chest, bone-deep dread. For a few terrifying seconds, she’d thought she was having a heart attack and that she was dying.
A very specific fear had overtaken her. I can’t do this to my parents. That had scared her more than anything. The idea of someone breaking the news to her mom and dad that they’d lost another child. Then a fresh panic had washed over her with a new thought. I’m not done yet. I haven’t started yet.
She didn’t know what to do with that. The sense that even though she was thirty-one, she hadn’t started. Started what, she wasn’t sure. Maybe it was because she hadn’t gotten her program in schools yet. She’d made it her life’s work, and it could’ve ended before she ever got the program off the ground. That might’ve been where the panic had come from, but the more she thought about it, the more that didn’t feel quite right. The dread had felt more all-encompassing—a desperate, smothering sense of loss of what could’ve been—and it was freaking her the hell out.
She didn’t have time for an existential crisis. She had work to do.
“You should call in and take the week off,” Liv said from the back seat, breaking Taryn from her thoughts. “The doctor wrote an excuse for you. You should jump on that. Get some rest. Binge Netflix. Go on a little getaway. Something.”
Taryn frowned and glanced at Liv in the rearview mirror, catching her dark-eyed gaze. “I can’t. The school-board presentation is Thursday night, and I have classes to teach. I’d need to give my department more notice than that. I’m okay. I just need a good night’s sleep, and I’ll be fine.”
“Fine?” Kincaid said, the word full of sharp edges. “I’m about to outlaw that word from your vocabulary.” She gripped the wheel tighter and returned her gaze to the road, the muscle in her jaw working. “You’re not fine. You heard the doctor. This could kill you.”
“Kincaid, it’s not—” Taryn started.
“No, don’t even.” Kincaid’s voice was tight, as if there was a hand around her throat pinching off the air. “Do you know how terrified I was when Rivers told me you’d collapsed?” Her long lashes blinked rapidly, her sparkly blue unicorn eyeliner smudging more. “My heart dropped right out of my chest. My mind went to…bad places.”
Taryn swallowed her protest, hating that she’d put that fear into her friend. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Well, you did,” Kincaid said, her chin jutting out like a child trying not to cry.
“You scared all of us,” Rebecca said gently from the back seat. “And believe me, I know what it’s like to have so much on your plate that taking a break can seem impossible. I’ve been there. But your body is telling you something. I don’t want to freak you out, but there was a lawyer when I first started at the firm who was really successful and seemed to be healthy and have it all together. He collapsed one night when he was working late, died of a heart attack at thirty-seven. His assistant found him the next morning.”
Taryn’s stomach flipped over. “God, how horrible.”
“It was, and it was the first time I realized youth didn’t give people a pass on those things,” she continued. “I’m not saying you’re in the same boat as him. The doc said your heart looks good, but the hours you’re pulling and the stress you’re dealing with are doing damage.”
Taryn absorbed the warning and leaned her head back against the seat. “I know working this much isn’t good for me, but I’m almost there. I don’t keep this schedule all the time. It’s just this last year that’s been hairy. If I can get through this school-board presentation and get the program piloting in a few schools, I can take a break and recuperate.”
“That’s the thing, though,” Rebecca said, leaning forward between the seats. “I’ve told myself that story, too, but there’s always another thing after whatever you’re stressing about is over. For me, there was always another difficult court case. For you, once you get past the school board, you’re going to have to roll out the program. Then you’re going to have to work out kinks in the program. Then it will need additional funding.”
“Exactly,” Liv said. “The stress doesn’t really go away. It just takes on different faces. You need to find ways to give yourself pockets of time to relax, recharge, and have fun during all that so you can manage it.”
“I know,” Taryn conceded. “You’re right.”
“Yes, we are. Which is why…” Kincaid said, giving her another pointed look. “Even if you can’t take time off, you’re at least doing this Gym Xtreme thing with me. Starting this week. No excuses. I’m pulling rank.”
Taryn lifted a brow. “Rank?”
“I’m a month o
lder than you,” Kincaid declared. “And relentless. You do not want this girl stalking you all week. Because I will.”
“Ha. She’s not kidding,” Liv said. “I’ve seen her in that mode.”
Taryn lifted her glasses to rub her eyes, weary. She didn’t have time to start a gym program. She didn’t have time for anything that wasn’t already on her schedule. “Does it have to be this week? I have—”
“This week,” Kincaid said. “I’m serious. You can find an hour here or there. Lucas has some openings on his schedule.”
Taryn adjusted her glasses and peeked over at Kincaid. “Lucas?”
Kincaid smirked and gave a knowing nod. “Yes, your Top Gun rescuer has some room this week. You’re the lucky winner of that time slot.”
Taryn opened her mouth to protest again, but then she remembered Lucas standing in her hospital room, looking tousled and worried and damn hot. He’d told her he didn’t date, which was fine, but maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to spend a little time getting sweaty with him in a different way. Maybe she could find an hour this week. Plus, based on how poorly she’d run at the race, she could probably use some kind of physical activity. The former track star inside her was embarrassed at how out of shape she’d become.
She could hit a few check boxes with one pen with this plan—help her friends stop worrying, get back in shape, and hang out with a hot guy—all without having to interfere with her work too much. “Okay,” she said finally. “I’m in. I’ll try the crazy gym.”
Kincaid’s determined expression turned bright and sunny again, her friend’s normal state returning. “Yay!”
“Awesome,” Liv said, reaching out and squeezing Taryn’s shoulder. “I’m glad. Y’all let us know how it goes because that shit looks scary. Have you looked at the website?”
“No,” Taryn said, glancing back warily.
“Don’t,” Rebecca chimed in. “Better to focus on the fact that the trainers are, like, holy-crap hot.”
Taryn laughed, some of the pressure on her chest lifting. “Y’all saw them?”
