“Yes, Richie Rich, I was. You’ve got private insurance, and I’m going to return this form to the Grinch at the front desk now.” I rise, and Linden does the same. I swallow my surprise at his clinginess. “You can stay put; I’ll be back in ten seconds.”
His turquoise eyes—for yes, they really have that aquatic color—study me cautiously. “I’d like to come along.”
“Right. It’s your hand, after all, and the faster it’s your turn, the sooner I can go to bed.”
We walk back to the admittance desk. I hand the woman the clipboard, and she looks at it. “The allergies are missing.”
I roll my eyes. “Yeah, a man with amnesia might have a bit of a hard time remembering his allergies, you know?” It’s hard to stay calm. “Listen, lady, I’m dog-tired and would rather be in bed right now. But I can’t be, because I have to take care of Mr. Priest here. So would you please get a doctor, and I will gladly figure it out with them?”
“I’m sorry I’m keeping you from going to bed, Miss Leroux,” Linden murmurs sheepishly.
“It’s okay,” I whisper back.
I have a feeling the woman just checked the insurance line, because suddenly there’s a smile on her face. “Please come right along here, Mr. Priest.”
When he looks at me with an uncertain expression, I nod. “Go.”
“Would you maybe … come with me?” he asks hesitantly.
Sweet Jesus, are you kidding me? I think. All right, so I asked for a miracle when I left that craptastic party, but, God, was it really necessary to send me a helpless man whose hand I seem to be destined to hold? Recently, God seems to have been enjoying making a fool out of me. I sigh. “Okay, I’ll stay with you.”
Linden’s face lights up. “Thank you, Miss Leroux.”
“But please call me Thalia. I don’t like being called Miss Leroux.”
“Okay. Thank you, Thalia,” he repeats.
“You’re welcome, Mr. Priest.”
We follow the woman into one of the examination rooms, and only a few minutes later, a doctor shows up. “Good morning, Mr. Priest,” he says. “You’ve injured your right hand, I hear?”
Linden holds up his bloodied hand, and now I can see the large cut across his palm, dirty and rather deep.
I feel queasy. I turn away so I don’t have to look too closely.
“What happened?” the doctor asks.
“I don’t remember.”
“What is the last thing you remember, Mr. Priest?”
“A phone number, which Miss Leroux has called already,” he answers.
“What is your name?”
“Linden Julian Priest,” Linden says.
“When and where were you born?” the doctor continues, cleaning Linden’s hand at the same time, which I verify with a hesitant glance over my shoulder.
“On March eighteenth, but I have no idea where,” he says.
“We need to run a few tests,” the doctor decides. He’s bandaging Linden’s hand, after cleaning it and putting some garishly colored ointment on the cut. Probably iodine.
“What kind of test?” I ask. I’m not a pre-med student or anything, but I am curious.
“We need to look at his brainwaves, do an EEG and a CT, maybe even an MRI,” the doctor explains.
I give a curt nod. “How long is that going to take?”
“Mr. Priest would have to be admitted as an inpatient.”
“Yeah, you should do that,” I say. “I think it would be best if he stayed here for now.” Why is the doctor speaking to me anyway? I’m just the girl that picked up a stranger on the curb.
“You have to sign for the hospitalization. With amnesia, he isn’t considered compos mentis—of sound mind.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “I’m not a relative. I’m sure I can’t sign for him,” I stall. I hope they’re not going to make me.
The doctor takes a deep breath.
“Please, would you just sign it, Thalia?” Linden asks.
I have no idea what to do. Maybe this is Candid Camera, and my friends have staged an elaborate stunt for my birthday because I told them to skip the jokes for an entire year. Or maybe this is real, and I’m somehow responsible for this guy. My shoulders droop. “Okay. I’ll sign it.”
“Please wait here, Mr. Priest. I’ll be back in a minute.” The doctor starts to leave the room and motions for me to follow.
“Okay, Linden,” I say once we’re alone. “I’ll go home after signing this thing. If I find the time, I’ll come back tomorrow.”
“Will you promise me that?”
What a big baby! But I try to smile. “Sure. And if I really can’t manage it, your friend has my number.”
“Okay. Thanks a lot for driving me here and everything.”
“Don’t mention it. Get well soon, Linden.” I leave the examination room and follow the doctor into his office. I’m still surprised I have to sign this form for his admittance. Linden doesn’t exactly look like a man who needs a legal guardian. But I put down my signature, write my full name, address, and phone number, and then finally leave the hospital.
***
When I get home, the apartment is quiet as the grave. Draven and Nathaniel must either be in bed or still out partying. Yes, I share a place with two men now. I still live in the same apartment, but with two new roommates ever since Camille moved in to Delsin’s beach house with him, and Hailey and Logan moved to Delsin’s old place. But both Draven and Nathaniel are really nice, and they’re much less messy than either Cami or Hailey. I switch my phone back to normal mode, and one glance at its clock tells me sunrise isn’t far off. I’m tired and irritated. All I want to do is go to sleep, but then I notice the many texts and WhatsApp messages I’ve received.
“My goodness, don’t they have lives of their own?” I mutter.
With a sigh, I open the first chat window. Camille.
Where are you? I hope you didn’t fall victim to some rapist! Let me know when you’re home, doesn’t matter what time it is. I’m worried!
Next up is Delsin.
Caramel is worried. Please let her know you’re ok, so I can go to sleep. She’s keeping me up! Have a heart, Thally, call her. And a crying emoticon.
I open Avery’s window. More of the same.
Where are you??? Sweets is driving us all crazy and is keeping us up in their living room! Dale fell asleep on the couch. Please, Thally. Call her before she calls the brute squad!
I giggle in spite of myself.
And finally, Hailey.
Use your damn phone and call one of us. All we know is that you picked up a hitchhiker, and now none of us can reach you! Thally, I swear, if you got yourself into trouble, I’ll give you extra trouble!
I roll my eyes. Great. Everyone is upset when I drive someone to the hospital, but they can’t care enough to throw me an awesome party, I think, somewhat unfairly. I decide to call Avery’s number, because he’s probably the least emotional of the bunch. He’ll understand. He’s sort of the guardian angel of our circle, after all. He can be a jerk at times, too, but the angel part is stronger.
“Finally,” he says when he picks up.
“Hi, Ave. How are you? I’m fine, too, thanks for asking.”
“Sorry, Thally, but I only just managed to get Dale to bed, and Sweets is still running around like a chicken with its head cut off. Have you made it home yet?”
“Yes, I have, and I’m okay.”
“Is that her?” I hear Cami’s voice in the background.
“Yes,” Ave replies.
I can hear static, and then a loud rustling sound, and finally: “Have you lost your mind? That hitchhiker could have strangled you and buried you in a ditch!”
“Cami, relax! He was injured, and he convinced me his hobbies are not murder and mayhem, okay? I took Linden to the hospital and then came home. Can I go to sleep now, please?”
She snorts, not completely mollified yet. “Yeah, yeah, good night. But call me again when you wake up, okay?”
<
br /> “Will do.”
“I love you,” she adds, more placated now.
“Love you, too. Let me talk to Avery again, please.”
“Yeah. One moment.”
More rustling and static. “Yes? Thally?”
“I’m sorry she kept you all awake,” I say. “I’ll forgive you for that craptastic party if you forgive me now, too. Okay?”
“Sure. And, by the way … ” he added in a whisper. “That was only a pre-party, one might say. We’ve planned something bigger, but you didn’t hear it from me. Are we clear?”
“Oh. Okay, yeah. Good night, and tell Delsin, Dale, and Hailey that I’m sorry.”
“Sleep tight, Thally,” he says, and I can hear his smile.
I press the end call button and drag my ass into my bedroom. Utterly exhausted, I undress, slip my sleep shirt over my head and lie down. I can brush my teeth tomorrow. Ugh. As soon as my tongue moves over my teeth, I force myself to get back up and run into the bathroom. No matter how sleepy I am, I have to brush them.
I also quickly wash my face to get rid of the makeup, then I shuffle back to bed. About time. I fall asleep immediately.
Chapter 2
“I don’t give a fuck,” I rant at my phone, which wakes me with music far too loud, mere minutes after I’ve fallen asleep. At least that’s what it feels like. Note to self: Linkin Park is a dumb idea for a ringtone. Second note to self: Switch off the damn thing altogether if you want to catch some sleep! I ignore Chester Bennington’s screaming voice.
But as soon as the song fades, it starts all over again. “I’ve become so numb! I can’t feel you there! I’ve become so tired! So much more aware!”
I blink and search for the phone, finally picking it up from the floor to answer the call. “I swear, if this is meant to be a joke, you’re on my enemy list forever!”
“Hello, Miss Leroux. This is Alexis Kingston, and I guess we got off on the wrong foot, though I’m not sure why.” He sounds overwhelmed by my sleepy intensity.
I sigh. “Mr. Kingston, I have no idea what time it is, but you just woke me up.”
“It is four p.m. in Miami, and my plane has just landed. You told me to call you when I got here.”
“Where are you now?” I ask, sitting up.
“I’m still at the airport, but I can take a taxi to the hospital. It would be nice if you could send me the address.”
Oops. I completely forgot. I meant to send it to him when I got home last night. “Mr. Kingston, if it isn’t too much of a drag for you to wait, I could pick you up in about an hour.”
“I still need to get my luggage, so I don’t think I’ll be ready much earlier than that anyway,” he replies.
“Great. Then go to the passenger drop-off area. I have a black Mercedes with a license plate that says ‘Fabulous.’ How can I recognize you?” While I speak, I get up and pull a dress from my closet.
“I’ll send you a photo in WhatsApp.”
“Okay. See you soon.”
“Bye.”
We hang up, and I run into the bathroom, taking a record-time shower and trying to get my hair to look half decent. I won’t bother blow-drying it, because it’s always hot outside this time of year, so it’ll be dry within minutes anyway. Besides, once I have it all up in a ponytail, it doesn’t matter whether it’s wet or dry. I slip into the dress, and of course I need to put on a little bit of makeup, but I tone it down so I won’t look like a clown or a harlot.
Even though I’m still exhausted from going to bed at six a.m., I want to help Mr. Kingston. I also want to know if Linden is all right. He’s kind of cute, but also a little absent-minded, which of course might be due to the little problem of the amnesia.
I leave the bathroom and run smack into Draven. “Whoa, sorry,” I say.
“Fuck,” he mutters. “Are you in a hurry again? Where are you going?” Draven is cute, too. He reminds me of Delsin, not because of his personality, but because of how he dresses. He usually wears tight pants and big shirts, but his hair is far too long for a young man. It’s longer than mine, for Christ’s sake!
“Yeah, in a hurry. I need to pick someone up from the airport and drive him to meet his lost friend. I’ll be back later—and by the way, hands off my hair spray. I don’t want to buying a new bottle all the time, just because you’re too stingy to buy your own.” I say all this in one long, breathless sentence.
“Wasn’t me. I think Nathaniel used it.”
“Uh, Nathaniel’s hair is maybe three millimeters long. So don’t give me that.” I smile. His attempt at an excuse was really poor.
“Okay,” he says guiltily. “I’ll buy you a new one if you want me to.”
“Why don’t you buy a bottle for yourself?” I suggest with a wink. “I’ll see you later tonight, or maybe tomorrow.”
“See you, Thally.”
“Bye.” I grab my handbag and my phone, and then I walk out to where my car is parked. First I let down the folding top, and then I start the engine.
When I turn on the radio, Chester Bennington’s voice comes at me again at full blast, alternating with Mike Shinoda’s. They put me in a good mood. Linkin Park is the perfect band to distract me from being tired.
***
I turn into the passenger drop-off lane, looking for the man in the photo I received. Alexis Kingston’s hair is caramel-colored, and he must be about six-foot-three. When I see him, I hit the horn and wave.
Alexis comes over to my car. “Are you Thalia Leroux?”
“Yep, that’s me. Mr. Kingston?” He nods. “Get in,” I urge him with a smile. “Quick, so I don’t get a ticket.” I look in the rearview mirror at the meter maid, who is sneaking up on my car like a lioness ready to pounce.
Alexis throws his bag into my backseat before slipping into the passenger seat. Off we go. “You’re looking really good for having been up only an hour,” he says.
“Thanks,” I say, feeling the blood rush to my cheeks.
“I mean it.”
I can see his smile from the corner of my eye. “I’ll let you out at the hospital, and then I’ll head somewhere else.”
“I thought you’d want to see Linden, too?”
“Yeah, but now you’re here. Too many visitors probably aren’t good for him, and you’re going to have to try to refresh his memory.”
“I’m still wondering how the hell he ended up in Miami. A week ago, he was in New York, and everything was fine.”
“So he doesn’t live around here at all?” I ask, curious.
“Yes, he does, technically, but we’ve been working in New York for a while now. It’s got me confused.” He sounds thoughtful.
“And Linden didn’t say he was taking a trip?”
“No. He disappeared without a word, and nobody could reach him. We even tried to trace his cell, but nothing. On the second day, we went to the police, reported him missing. We thought he’d had an accident or something.”
“Who’s ‘we’?” I ask.
“A few colleagues, me, his family, and his girlfriend.”
Great. My desire to see Linden again dwindles considerably. I don’t go out with guys who are taken; I’m not the kind of bitch who wedges herself into a relationship. Wait a minute! Why am I even thinking about this? I’m not interested in this guy. I sound as if I wanted to have him as my boyfriend. No, thank you! I’ve seen the ways in which Cami and Hailey have changed—I can really do without a man at my side. All I want and need is sex—with no strings attached. Because, as they say: not my circus, not my monkeys!
Colton and I were really perfect. One of us would call the other, ask, “Are you free tonight?” and then we’d meet and have sex. It was great that way. But two weeks ago, we got into an argument when he wanted to turn it into something steady and I didn’t. And now I miss him. He was damn good in bed. Yes, I may sound selfish, but what the heck? I’m young, and I want to have a good time. Period.
“What are you brooding about?” Alexis breaks into my tra
in of thought.
“Oh, nothing,” I say, shaking my head. “We’re almost there.”
“Are you coming along to see Linden?”
“I don’t think so. I don’t even know him, you know?”
“But you helped him, and he should get a chance to thank you, don’t you think?”
“He already did last night,” I say.
“Oh, but that is not the same, Miss Leroux.”
“Why not?”
“Because I assume he was in shock, and thus he might not remember much about last night.”
I utter a sigh of resignation. “All right, I’ll come along, but I can’t stay for long.”
“What important plans do you have?” he asks.
“Meeting the holy inquisition in the shape of my friends. And why am I being questioned? Because I picked up an injured hitchhiker last night and brought him here.” I smirk at how stupid that sounds. I’m twenty-one years old, and I’m being called to justify my actions before my friends. I’m officially allowed to drink alcohol and go out to clubs, but Camille and Hailey still treat me as if I were five years old! The thought annoys me.
Alexis chuckles. “How old are you? Five?”
I feel like rolling my eyes, but instead I simply say, “I was just asking myself the same question.”
I park the car, and we both get out. I lock it and follow him into the building. “Do you know what room he’s in?” Alexis asks.
“No. We’ll have to ask.”
At the front desk, Alexis finds out which floor and room Linden is in. Then we take the elevator and find the room.
“Hey, dude! What the hell happened?” Alexis greets Linden.
“Good afternoon, Linden,” I say with a smile, trying to remain in the background.
“Hey, Kingston,” Linden says. But when he looks at me, his face lights up. “Thalia,” he breathes.
Okay. This is awkward. And I feel uncomfortable. Why is he saying my name like a love-struck teenager?
He looks at Alexis again. “I have no idea what happened. They did a few tests today, and now I’m waiting for the results.”
“We should get you to New York City, bro,” Alexis suggests. “Jayden could examine you again.”
Linden: Rocking Pleasure: New Adult College Romance (Coral Gables Series Book 3) Page 2
