“Does she know?”
“Know what?”
“That you love her, you idiot.” He rolls his eyes. “Have you told her?”
“Not explicitly, but I’ve put it out there that I want more.”
“No, man. You gotta tell her. Just straight-up say it. That’s what I did with Wren.”
My twin nods. “It’s true. He just came right out and told me what he wanted from the beginning. It was weird, being faced with something so forward, but it was easier. I knew what I was working with from the beginning.”
“But we’re not at the beginning. We’ve been doing…well, this for a while now.”
“It.”
“What?” I question Wren.
“You know…doing it.” She humps the air again, bouncing her brows up and down. When I shake my head at her, she throws her hands up in the air. “What? It’s true. It’s not my fault my brother and my best friend are horndogs and can’t keep their hands off each other.”
Foster laughs at his fiancée, and I question why I keep these two around.
“Anyway, I digress,” Wren says. “Just because you’re not at the beginning doesn’t mean you have to pussyfoot around what you want. Just tell her. I know Drew—she’ll listen.”
“Then you know she’ll probably argue with me for about twenty minutes beforehand.”
“But she will listen,” she insists. “And she’s worth the fight.”
“She is,” I agree, smiling at the thought of Drew standing before me, arms crossed over her chest. The angry version of her probably shouldn’t turn me on so much, but it does. “Anyway, thanks for the pep talk, but I should probably be heading out. I have a short shift at Slice this afternoon.”
“You do? Why?”
“Remember that bigshot football guy Dad hired?”
“Jonas Schwartz?”
I nod. “Yeah, him. Well, he was called away to the NFL or some crap like that, so Dad’s short-staffed. I’ll just be there covering a few gap hours.”
“That’s so…responsible of you.” Wren smiles. “God, I love what being with Drew is doing to you.”
I groan. “I make my own decisions, you know.”
“Sure, but you also crave her approval, which is why you’re being a good little worker bee like the rest of us. You want her to see you’re responsible and reliable.” Wren gasps, snapping her fingers. “Is that why you’re starting your own photography business? To provide for her and Riker because you’re gonna propose to Drew or something?”
My heart jumps into my throat.
“Slow your roll, turbo. We aren’t even officially dating yet. Marriage isn’t on the table.”
“Not everyone is as insane as we are and gets engaged after less than a year of dating,” Foster tells her.
“Yeah, but you’ve always had a pizza my heart. That’s different.”
“Did you really just say pizza?” I curl my lip, leaning away from her insanity. “That’s it. I’m really leaving now.” I hop off the bed of the truck and head toward my car. “See you guys later.”
“Win, wait!”
I turn and Wren jogs toward me.
“Look, I know I’ve been razzing you about Drew, but I’m happy for you. I really am. I think you two work together. You push each other in the best kind of way. But, please, get your shoulder looked at. If not for yourself, for Drew.” She gives me that same look Foster did—pity. “Please. I think something is seriously wrong.”
“You think I don’t know that? You think I haven’t known that for the past few years? Why else do you think I’ve been smoking myself silly?”
She tilts her head, pursing her lips.
“To mask the pain, Wren.”
“Oh. Huh. I just thought you were a super stoner or something.”
I chuckle. “Nah. Well, I mean, yes, but also no. It was the only thing that helped me get through.”
“Helped?”
“Yeah. I, uh, quit.”
I don’t know why I whisper it, like I’m ashamed or something.
There’s nothing wrong with weed, nothing wrong with letting that buzz wash over you, but Drew was right when she called me on my shit.
I wasn’t smoking because it’s fun or because it was my only choice. I was doing it to take the easy way out, because I didn’t want to work for my recovery, which is really unfair to myself and the people who have to use it to get by. I was making a mockery out of all of us.
Weed is a drug that is to be respected, and I was abusing the hell out of it.
“For Drew?” Wren asks.
I nod. “And me. I didn’t like who it was making me.”
Wren’s eyes soften. “I’m sorry. I feel like I failed as your twin. I didn’t realize you were hurting so bad, Win.”
I shrug. “I didn’t let anyone know. I shut down, shut everyone out.”
“That part I did notice. You’ve been so…mean.”
I wince. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t me. It was the pot. I love you. You know that, right?”
She cringes at the mushy moment but says, “I love you too. But if you really loved me, you’d get your shoulder looked at.”
“You and Drew really are best friends. She’s been riding my ass about it too.”
“See? That’s two people who give a shit.”
“Three!” Foster yells. “That’s three!”
“Oh my god, quit eavesdropping before I come over there and beat your cheeks!”
“Did you just threaten to fuck him in front of me?”
“No. But also kind of yes.” She rolls her eyes. “Anyway, please, Win, just do it. If Mom were here, she’d slap you right upside the head for being so stubborn and not taking care of yourself.”
I grin, because she’s right. My mom would totally beat my ass if she knew I wasn’t doing what I need to do to be healthy.
“I’m starting to think this stubborn thing runs in the family, because you’re stubborn too.”
“I am not.”
“You are too. You wouldn’t even let me help you with your salon when I had the spare cash.”
“Well, aren’t you glad you didn’t help me? Now you have more money for your shoulder.” She winks. “Just do it.”
“I’ll look into it, okay?”
“You promise?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“That’s not a real promise, but it’s probably the best I’ll get out of you today, and I know better than to push my luck when it comes to you.” She wraps her arms around me and squeezes me quickly. “Later, penis wrinkle.”
“Later, twerp.”
* * *
I could hardly contain myself all through my shift.
Drew was there for part of it, and every time she threw a glance my way, all I wanted to do was march over to her and tell her how I feel about her.
Lay it all on the line just like Foster said to do.
But since nobody is supposed to be privy to the details of us, I know she’d have my balls if I even tried to talk to her for more than a minute with everyone around.
So, I kept my distance, watched her from afar like a complete creeper.
I know she could tell something was up, because she kept sending me sharp glances, like she knew she was my prey and I was just waiting to strike.
I raced home as soon as I got off, not just so I could spend time with Riker, but so I could get everything in place, so when Drew comes home, I can say screw her stupid forty-eight-hour rule and tell her exactly how I feel about her.
But now that I’m in the thick of the nightly routine with Riker, all I want to do when she gets home is lay her down on our bed and show her how much I appreciate her because, fuck, all this baby crap is exhausting.
Feed. Bathe. Change.
Change again because he shit.
Put down for bed.
Feed again.
Change again.
I’m in awe of her.
“How do you expect me to get these penguin jammies on you when
you won’t stop wiggling?” I say to a freshly bathed Riker.
You can tell we’ve bonded because he didn’t pee on me once during bath time or afterward when I was trying to get his diaper on.
We’re making a lot of progress together.
He giggles at me, like he’s taunting me or some shit, not helping one bit as I try to get his clothes over his constantly moving feet.
I frown at him, and he mimics me. “You’re a little stinker. Anyone ever tell you that?”
He blows spit bubbles, laughing and tossing his legs about as I try to force the suit onto him. His legs might be little, but damn are they strong.
I hear my shoulder do that disgusting clicking thing it does and try not to wince at the pinch of pain.
I don’t have time to focus on the hurt and feel sorry for myself.
Riker is my main priority right now.
It takes me another few minutes, but I finally manage to get his sleep jumper on and zipped. I’m nearly sweating by the time I’m done.
I stand him up on the end of the bed, his little hands wrapped around my fingers. He’s smiling at me, looking pleased with himself for causing me to sweat.
“Damn, kid. Just got my workout in for the day with all that.” He wiggles around, his little hands gripping my fingers tighter as he tries to hold himself steady. “Dang, Riker. Look at you go, standin’ up. So strong, buddy.”
More laughter and grins.
“Okay, you ready for some SpongeBob and bum time on the couch? Yeah? Come on, let’s go be bums.”
He wobbles forward, and I tighten my hold, only nothing happens in my shoulder.
It completely gives out.
And Riker goes tumbling headfirst off the bed.
Slice Nineteen
Drew
“Listen, Drew, don’t freak out, okay? You have to promise not to freak out.”
My heart plummets to the floor then flies back into my throat all within the same moment.
I try to take a deep breath, try to just breathe and keep calm.
“W-What’s wrong?” I hear myself ask.
Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe it has nothing to do with Riker.
I pace back and forth down the hall of Slice, worrying my lip between my teeth.
We’re not technically allowed to have our phones on the floor, but Simon knows we all keep them on us anyway, and when mine started buzzing incessantly in my apron, I knew I had to answer.
“We’re at the hospital.”
We’re at the hospital.
If I thought my heart sank before, I was wrong.
“Winston…what happened?”
“He’s okay. He…he fell.”
“How?”
“My shoulder.”
My blood feels like it’s on fire. His shoulder. His fucking shoulder. The same one he refused to get looked at. My son fell because of his stupidity.
“He’s okay, though. We’re just here as a precautionary measure. Sully brought us in. He—”
“I’m on my way.”
Not able to stand another word from Winston, I end the call and shove my cell into my back pocket as I race down the hall toward the exit.
“Drew? Where are you—”
“Hospital!” I call to Simon over my shoulder as I charge out the front door of Slice.
“Hospital? What?” He tries to race after me, but I’m pulling open my car door and throwing it into reverse before he can even get outside.
I peel out of the lot, hook a right, and floor it to the hospital.
I don’t bother to stop at the stop signs, blasting through them all.
Reckless, yes.
Necessary? Also yes.
I pull up to the hospital less than five minutes later, and it’s one of the few times I’m so glad this town is as small as it is.
I don’t even remember pulling into a parking spot, just sprinting through the emergency room doors, haggardly breathing as I approach the check-in station.
“Woods. Riker Woods.”
“Relation?” asks the nurse manning the station.
“Do I look like a concerned neighbor? I’m his mother.”
She nods, mouth pinched tightly. “Right this way, ma’am.”
The woman leads me back into a cold, sterile hallway.
Behind a curtain, I can see Winston’s feet as he paces back and forth.
I realize then I have to face him.
I don’t want to face him.
The nurse pulls the curtain back. “I’ll get your doctor for you.”
I don’t even bother looking at Winston, who knows better than to try to get in my way as I barge past him to my son.
Riker’s lying in a crib, his eyes seeking me out. He grins the moment he recognizes me, and I choke back a sob at the sight of him, relief washing over me.
Minus the bruise forming on his head, he looks okay.
I reach into the crib, running my thumb over his chubby cheeks.
“Hey, angel. How you doing? You okay?” He coos, and I want to pick him up so badly. “I’m sorry, buddy. I am so, so sorry.”
Winston comes to stand behind me, so close I can feel the heat radiating off him.
Glancing back at him, I let my eyes travel up his body.
He’s wearing those boots I love and the jeans that hug his ass just right. There’s a flannel shirt tied around his waist. If it wasn’t for the sling around his arm, he’d look just like he did the night he told me I was going home with him, the night this all began.
Funny, because I’m certain this is the night it will all end.
“I—” he starts.
“No.”
“Drew—”
“I said no, Winston.”
I ignore his sorrowful stare and turn back to my son, giving him all my attention.
“Ah, Mrs. Woods. So sorry we have to meet in circumstances such as this, but I’m Doctor Farewell.”
“That’s a bit macabre,” I murmur.
The doctor cracks a smile. “Your husband said the same thing.”
My eyes fly to Winston, who’s standing there looking guilty for lying to the doctor.
I had to, he mouths.
“I’m sure he’s filled you in,” the doctor says, “but Riker is doing just fine. Luckily the drop wasn’t far, and he landed on carpet, or else we’d be looking at a completely different situation here. Mr. Woods was smart to bring him in as a precaution, but the bump is minor and he’s responding well to all tests, so there’s no need to be worried. I’d say you guys are good to go as soon as we get his exit paperwork filled out. Probably another thirty minutes and you’re free.”
I give him a small smile. “Thank you, Doctor. May I pick him up?”
“Oh, yes, of course. I’m sure he’d love some mommy snuggles right about now.”
I lean into the crib, slowly easing Riker into my arms.
“Hey, angel.” I kiss his little red cheeks, trying not to look at the bump on his forehead because I’m afraid if I stare too long, I’ll break. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”
I squeeze him close to me, and he coos, snuggling into my chest.
A sob breaks from my chest, because I know how lucky I am to be holding him right now.
The doctor clears his throat and steps toward Winston, nodding to his injured shoulder. “Please, Mr. Woods, I implore you, get that thing looked at as soon as possible for not only your sake, but your son’s. This could have ended a lot worse, and I’m sure you’d rather not risk it happening again.”
Winston dips his head. “I will. Thank you, sir.”
Dr. Farewell bids us good night and disappears as quickly as he came in, pulling the curtain closed behind him.
As soon as he’s out of earshot, I turn to Winston.
“What in the fuck happened?” I seethe. “Where did he fall from? Did you drop him, Winston?”
“No!” His face crumples. “Well, kind of, but not on purpose. I was getting him into his jammies, and he was holding on to my
fingers, showing off how well he could stand. He bobbed forward and my shoulder just gave out under his weight. He rolled off the bed before I could catch him.”
I can just picture it, Riker rolling off, smacking into the floor.
My heart lurches at the scene in my mind, and I want to cry.
I want to cry for my child.
I want to cry because I wasn’t there.
I want to cry because I am so incredibly angry at Winston for being so irresponsible and allowing something like this to happen.
“Drew, I am so, so s—”
“Don’t,” I warn, holding Riker tighter. “Don’t you dare. You did this, Winston. You did this with your stupid pride, with your impatience, with your inability to grow the fuck up and just take responsibility. Because you were too goddamn childish to push through physical therapy after you were literally handed a second chance at life, now my son’s lying in a hospital bed with a bump the size of Texas on his head. We wouldn’t be here right now if you’d just done what you were supposed to do. This is your fault.”
“You think I don’t know that, Drew? I’m fucking sick over this.”
“Good! You should be! I trusted you with him.”
“It wasn’t me. My body gave out.”
“Because of you. Why couldn’t you just listen to me? Why couldn’t you just get yourself checked out? Why didn’t you tell me your shoulder was that bad? I wouldn’t have left you with Riker if I’d known.”
“That! That right there is why—because then you wouldn’t have trusted me to watch him. You’d have been freaking out the entire time, worried something would happen.”
I dart my eyes toward Riker’s bruised head cradled against my chest. “Clearly that would have been a valid concern.”
“Drew, I know my body. If I’d have thought I couldn’t handle him, I would have told you. I would have never put him in harm’s way.”
“Then what happened, Winston? How did your arm give out and you have no warning?”
“I don’t know, okay? It just happened. It popped really bad earlier today with Foster, but it was doing fine until I was getting him dressed. It clicked again, but it wasn’t anything major. I was fine, and then I wasn’t. It happened in a split second. It’s not like I planned to hurt him.”
I Knead You Tonight Page 19
