Trying It All

by Christi Barth

  Summer loved it all. She certainly couldn’t get enough of him, either. Riley was more relaxed, more laid back, the way he only got when he was with the ACSs or naked with her. His defenses, his shields—whether against her or himself—were down.

  Funny to think that she’d fallen in love with him even before this shift. But she had zero complaints about this version of Riley. “Could I split the difference and request a batch of pumpkin spice martinis for the Halloween party?”

  “You always have to push my buttons, don’t you?”

  Mmm-hmm. “I can’t think of anything more fun.”

  “I can think of at least twelve things more fun. Starting with unbuttoning your shirt—”

  She slapped at his wandering hand. “No outdoor nookie. This is a public park. A little kid could walk by and be scarred for life.”

  “I’m scarred for life at the thought of a pumpkin spice martini. It sounds disgusting. And girly.”

  “You like everything girly about me.”

  “That I do. Which brings me back to the list of fun things we can do.” Riley pushed her braid out of the way to drop a line of kisses across the nape of her neck that sent delicious chills racing down her spine.

  Giggling, she darted away. “Quit it. You’re making me cold.”

  The relaxed stance, the teasing crinkle around his eyes dropped away. “It is cold.” Riley looked up at the sky. “Holy shit, look at those clouds.”

  This was a man who carried a hooded rain jacket with him to work every day, April through November, just in case a surprise rainstorm hit. So Summer assumed it was Riley being…well, Riley. But when she craned her neck back, she gasped. What she saw couldn’t be called mere clouds. A wall of utter blackness rolled toward them. It’d be the perfect backdrop for a scene in an Armaggedon movie. “That doesn’t look good.”

  “We’re going back. Right now.” He took her elbow and whipped her in a semicircle.

  “Okay, okay. Relax. We’re in a nature preserve. The worst that happens is that you get to find out just how see-through my T-shirt is when wet.”

  The set of Riley’s jaw was so firm she could’ve cracked open a walnut on his cheekbone. “You insisted on not telling me where we were going. What we were doing. That it be a surprise. So we’re not in hiking boots. We’ll have zero traction once things are wet. We don’t have jackets. We don’t have emergency flares.”

  “I repeat, this is the Oswegatchie Hills Nature Preserve. We’re not off in the Himalayas.”

  “We’re three miles from the car. We haven’t seen anyone else on these paths all afternoon. Probably because they all checked the weather forecast and decided today was a dangerous day to walk in the woods.”

  “Stop yelling at me.” Summer raised her voice to yell back at him, because the heavens had all of a sudden opened up. Torrential rain poured down, and thunder boomed. Her striped shirt was soaked through already. In just the space of ten words. And although she refused to admit it to Riley, she was already shivering.

  “You don’t get how dangerous our situation could be.” He hurried ahead a couple of steps to hold back branches of a bush overhanging the path. Even pissed, Riley took care of her. Made her feel safe. It was his superpower.

  But Summer still couldn’t let him turn a little summer storm into hurricane-aggedon. So she planted her feet in the thickening mud. “You don’t seem to get just how simple—although yeah, cold and wet—our walk back to the car will be. God, Riley, just because something awful happened to you once doesn’t mean anything even a quarter that bad will ever happen again.”

  “Pot. Kettle.” He spit the words out like curses.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  An arc of supernova-bright light seared her eyes. With a cry Summer threw her arm up to her face. She slipped—damn it, Riley had been right about the no-traction thing, and now she’d never hear the end of it—and landed hard on the ground.

  At the same time a crackle and boom went off. Like a transformer blowing. And then a house dropping on top of that blown transformer. It was the loudest noise she’d ever heard. Until the whump of the tree that had split in two and whooshed past her face thudded against the ground.

  The leaves, anyway. The leaves whooshed past and a branch scratched her face and arm.

  The trunk of the enormous tree landed on her leg.

  Summer didn’t scream. She felt the initial hit, the solid weight against her bone. The immense pressure. But no throbbing pain.

  Not yet.

  She knew it’d come.

  The fear, the immediate surge straight to panic, that came. Because she couldn’t move. But she wasn’t alone. There wasn’t another person on the entire Eastern Seaboard that she’d feel better with in a tough situation than her boyfriend. Her boyfriend who’d taken survival course after survival course. Who could start a fire a million different, match-free ways. Who knew which berries and mushrooms were safe to eat. Not that they’d be out here long enough to need a snack. No, he’d get them out of this situation in a jiffy.

  “Riley!” Summer screamed as loud as she could over the rain. Over the incessant hammer of what was now turning into hail. Hard-as-rock ice pellets that nicked at her flesh.

  Why wasn’t he answering?

  “Riley!”

  Thankful for all that core work her yoga instructor insisted on, she levered herself into an almost-sitting position. Twisted awkwardly, one hand braced on the tree trunk, to look at the spot Riley had been just moments ago.

  He was on the ground. Not moving. The rain and hail beat at him, and he just lay there. Bright red blood streamed down the side of his face, kept getting washed away, and then reappeared.

  Fresh fear punched through her stomach. God, how could he just lie there? With all the hail, how did he not wake up? What…How bad was it? Summer pulled and strained and tried everything possible to move, to go to him. The tree kept her its prisoner. However. There was still one thing she could do.

  “Riley!” She screamed his name, over and over and over again. Summer lost count of how many times she repeated it. She knew that trying to wake him up was the only way to help him. So she wouldn’t stop. She dug her nails into the mud, clawing, screaming, crying.

  It could’ve been a minute. Five. Twenty. Summer knew that she should’ve paid attention, should’ve tried to count seconds or something to be able to tell the paramedics later just how long he’d been out. But all she could do was scream and stare at his still, pale face.

  Until his knee bent.

  Hope and air flew into her body. It felt like she hadn’t taken a breath since the first sight of Riley’s unconscious face. His arm moved in an arc along the forest floor. Finally, with a groan, his left hand went to the gash on his head.

  “Son of a motherfucking goat fucker.”

  “Riley? Riley, are you okay? Talk to me. Open your eyes.”

  His eyes, those absolutely beautiful green eyes, met hers. “Summer?” He sat up fast. Groaned again and swayed so far to the side that she thought he’d fall back over. His face turned green, like he was about to puke. Then he leaned forward, braced himself on his hands, swore again, and arced back off his right hand as if he’d touched a hot stove.

  The momentary reaction to whatever flare of pain hit didn’t stop him. On his knees, but using only his left hand, Riley crawled over to her. He touched her hair, her face. Featherlight strokes that barely registered beneath the incessant rain. Still, she leaned into his palm. “Summer, sweetheart, are you hurt?”

  “Probably.” She drank in the sight of his lips moving, his eyes blinking again. “I mean, I’m sure I’m going to hurt. Right now I’m just awesomely happy that you’re conscious.”

  “Me too.” He backhanded the blood out of his right eye and winced. “I think.”

  “Can you see okay?”

  “I’ll admit I’m getting a double vision of your gorgeousness.” He closed his eyes. Swallowed hard, twice. If she had to guess, it’d be that
he was fighting back nausea. “But who’d ever complain about that?”

  “Don’t flirt your way out of admitting how hurt you are. I’m not blind. You’ve obviously got a concussion. What’s going on with your hand?”

  “Must’ve hit a rock when I hit the ground. No big deal.”

  “Baloney. Show me.” Summer tried to reach for his arm, but it threw off her balance and she fell to the side.

  “Holy shit. Oh, no.”

  Guess Riley’s double vision had cleared enough for him to register that she was pinned beneath the tree. “It’s no big deal,” she echoed, irony as thick as jam on toast.

  “Can you move at all?” Awkwardly, he patted down the outside of her trapped leg. Tried to push against the thick trunk, but it didn’t even roll a little.

  “No. Or I’d have been over there, cradling your head in my lap until you woke up.”

  Riley dragged himself up to where the branches started. Tried to lift it from there, but only using one hand and an elbow didn’t give him any better leverage. “Does it hurt?”

  Now that she wasn’t distracted by worry that the man she loved might be dead? Yes. It absolutely hurt. The pain was sharp and throbbing and pretty darn monumental. “It’s no multiple gunshot wounds, but it doesn’t tickle, either.”

  “How long ago did you call for help?”

  Okay. Good. It sounded like he was moving down the checklist toward formulating a plan. Riley excelled at checklists and plans. Relieved, she clutched at his pant leg to get him to move closer. Noticed the deep slashes the branch had carved in her arm. Good thing it was almost sweater season. “I’ve been screaming my lungs out. Nobody is around.”

  “I mean when did you call 911?”

  Uh-oh. Just when she thought being trapped under a tree was her biggest problem? Answering Riley’s question was about to be a heck of a lot worse. “I don’t have a phone.”

  “What?”

  “I made a big deal about confiscating yours so we could have a stress-free afternoon. It didn’t seem fair to bring mine along and maybe have it ping. I locked them both in the car.”

  Riley closed his eyes again. This time, Summer kind of hoped it was because he needed to throw up, and not because he was so mad he couldn’t look at her any longer. She used the opportunity to sneak a peek at his hand. It was already swollen.

  A wave of tiredness washed over her. Weakness. The gray-tinged air going almost black. Sadly, Summer recognized this feeling. It meant that her body was giving up fighting the pain, the shock, and just wanted to pass out.

  She couldn’t do that to Riley, though. She had to stay awake, pretend to be brave, for him. There was still so much to tell him, so much he needed to know. So much that she wanted to share. Things she hadn’t ever wanted to share with a boyfriend before. And she had to start with the most basic one. The truth she kept from almost everyone now in her life.

  “Summer—”

  She cut him off with a sharp squeeze of his good hand. “That’s not my name.”

  “Now is not the time to mock my concussion symptoms.”

  “No, I’m not pretending to be confused to make fun of you. Summer isn’t my real name. I chose it.” Summer paused. Because she’d never actually revealed this before. Some people knew. People who’d known her before. But she’d never actually shared the story like this. Would Riley laugh at her? Would he not get it? Would he like the other one better? “My real name is Susannah.”

  His eyebrows curved into a frown. “I don’t understand.”

  “After I died for that minute and eleven seconds, and woke up in the hospital bed, I got a whole new life. Figured that since I was more verbal and opinionated than the first time I was born, I’d choose my name for this one. Something that fit the new me. Because there was absolutely no way I’d ever be the same girl who walked into that classroom and got dragged out bleeding and full of bullets.”

  Riley stroked her sodden hair off her cheeks, carefully tucking it behind her ears. It had a chance of staying there, too, since the wind had died down. The icy rain, however, just kept pouring. “Summer suits you. To a T. You’re bright and hot—in the sexy way and hot-tempered—and you make everyone happier just by being. It’s a beautiful name for a beautiful woman.”

  She let her eyes flutter shut in relief. Riley understood. He understood who she was, at her core, now. Version 2.0. Maybe that meant she could convince him to understand himself. If only she could do that before passing out. “Thank you.”

  “Summer? Summer!” He patted her cheek hard enough for it to be a borderline slap.

  “What?” Her eyes flew open. When had Riley moved behind to support her back?

  “Don’t you fade on me.” The ferocity in his voice was stronger even when they’d first fought and hated each other. A fire in his green eyes blazed the golden glints like sparks. “I’m getting you out of here.”

  How adorable. How very Riley of him. So sweet that he’d recklessly rush to save her no matter what his own condition. Except the math for the chances of that actually happening didn’t add up. “No you’re not,” she said indulgently with a pat on his arm.

  “God, since when are you such a stickler for logistics?” His tone stayed in the familiar I’m so annoyed by you, but his hand gently stroked and patted her hair and head and shoulders with a tenderness that brought more tears to her eyes. “No, I’m not carrying you in my arms right this second. I’ll go, get the goddamned phone, get help, and then get you out of here.”

  For someone who prided himself on collecting data? Riley was ignoring the obvious. “You’re barely conscious yourself. You could go under again any minute.”

  “I won’t.” Shifting, Riley bent his leg to support her so that he could aim that unflinching gaze at her like a spotlight. “Do you hear me? I won’t. You’re the one who said it was just a long walk in the rain. No big deal.”

  Summer leaned into his arm. It felt so good. It’d be so easy to fall asleep just like that. “You can’t even stand up. You’re crawling around like a Pekingese.”

  “Really?”

  Laughter burbled out at the look of outrage on his bloodied face. “Sorry. That was uncalled for. You’re crawling around like a wounded but still ferocious Doberman.”

  “All right then.”

  The fuzziness came back. Summer bit the inside of her cheek to refocus. Because she’d had a reason behind sharing her secret with Riley. “Listen. This is important. I changed my name for me. Because it was my life course to chart, and I refused to waste it on things that didn’t fit me.”

  “Makes sense. You’ve got the final vote on who you are. I get it.” His fingers never so much as paused their soothing strokes down her arm.

  “Sure, you get it when it comes to me.” Stubborn man. “But what about you? Do you want to make other people happy? Or yourself? Do you want to make a difference in your job—or do you want to make a name for yourself? The choice isn’t up to anyone but you. And if I could do it, you shouldn’t have any trouble.”

  There. She’d gotten it all out, even with the trees turning into a solid blur of green above her. Pointed him in the direction of the right path. His path. No one else’s.

  It was quiet for a minute. Then Riley shook his head. Water went flying off the tips of his hair and splattered on Summer’s face, rousing her a little bit. “You push all my buttons. Every damn last one. Without even trying.”

  “Sometimes I try.” After all, being sassy didn’t take any extra effort. It came naturally.

  Riley pulled his gray Henley over his head. Laid it over her chest and tucked the arms around her to keep it in place. “Summer, you have to be brave and strong, like I know you are. You have to wait for me to come back with help. I promise I’ll be back. Before you even know it. I’ll run—”

  “I love you,” she murmured. It sounded good. Sounded right.

  And then she floated into darkness.

  Again.

  Chapter 21

  “Rile
y, man, you have to get some rest.”

  Logan’s voice sounded far away. Cushioned in fog, just like his head. Which could be the lack of caffeine at seven a.m., the fading-too-fast effects of the last pain pills he’d dry-swallowed in the middle of the night, or the last drop of adrenaline in his body finally calling uncle. Riley leaned against the doorframe to Summer’s hospital room. He’d insisted on talking out in the hallway to let her sleep.

  “Not yet.”

  “If you weren’t such a stubborn pain in the ass, you’d be admitted and lounging in your own adjustable bed, too.” Josh hooked his thumb at the empty room across the hall. The one Riley had categorically refused to use. Being an official patient would’ve made it too hard to stay with Summer.

  “I don’t need a bed.”

  “You have a serious concussion.” Knox pointed at the thick wad of gauze covering the knot where the tree had clocked him. “I know how bad those can be. You guys had me hauled away in an ambulance after mine, remember?”

  “Obviously my head’s harder than your fragile little brain dome.”

  Knox hooked his foot under a chair and slid it toward Riley. “You shouldn’t even be standing.”

  “My legs are fine.” But because he wasn’t stupid, he sat. Hoped that nobody saw how his knees more buckled than bent on the way down. “And I’m not running a 5K. I’m sitting next to my girlfriend’s bed. Watching over her. It’s not a high-intensity activity.”

  “Your hand’s gotta hurt.”

  Understatement of the century. Even though it was only a hairline fracture, the thing throbbed under the too-tight layers of gauze and ACE bandage. And they wouldn’t give him the good drugs because of the whole losing-consciousness-for-an-indeterminate-time issue.

  What everyone seemed to forget was that Riley had been through much, much worse back in the Alps. Yeah, he was in pain. But he had an indoor bathroom, was wearing the comfortable scrubs they’d given him in the ER, and had wolfed down a burger around midnight. Riley had nothing to complain about.