He’s on floor two.
It’s what my mom told me, and during the elevator ride up it became difficult to breathe, heart-wrenching dread slithering through me.
At the nurses’ station, I asked where his room was, fingertips tapping the counter, eyes scanning the wing as if I’d figure it out on my own.
“Lucas Stone,” a gray-haired nurse coughed out, keying his name into the computer, eyeglasses perched on the tip of her nose. “Only one visitor at a time, and I believe another young woman is already in there with him.”
Harper Kingston.Why wouldn’t she be with her man? I mean, they were soon to be married. Of course, she was by his side, sitting right where I would have handed over half my soul to be.
“I’ll just wait in the visitor’s lounge then?” My rattled nerves had me spit it out like an action that required her approval.
“Sure. Just check back here in about twenty minutes.”
Only me and a television mounted high up against the wall sat in the lounge, and since I didn’t care to watchHealth News Today, I fished my cell and headphones from my bag, plugging one of the buds into my right ear, skimming through the many playlists on Spotify. Drake played, escorting me to times Lucas rapped along whenever he showered, the memories curling a smile on my face. Leaning back, I closed my eyes, beats casting a sense of calm into a whirlwind of worry.
“Macy?”
Eyes sprung open, my head snapped to the oh-so-familiar voice.
Lucas’s mother.
“Oh, sweetheart. So glad you made it.” She walked over toward me, arms fanned out, and I got right to my feet, meeting her halfway, the two of us locking in an embrace. “How long have you been here?”
I pulled back, offering a one-shoulder shrug. “Maybe ten, fifteen minutes? How’s Lucas?”
She took hold of my hand, guiding me toward the door. “I’ll be more than happy to give you all the details later. But, why not head on over to Lucas first? He’s in room 202. Take your time. I can stay here with your suitcase and read a book until you get back.”
Hesitation halted my tracks. “One of the nurses told me he had a visitor. I really don’t wanna walk in on him and Harper.”
“No, honey.Iwas the one with Lucas.” Confusion seemed to crease her forehead. “Why would you thinkHarper, of all people, would be visiting him?”
I blinked.
“Wait,” she interrupted. “You don’t know?”
“Know…what?” My bottom lip quivered.
She stepped close, warm palm cupping my cheek. “Lucas broke up with that horrible Harper Kingston last week—the same day your sweet, tell-all diary went viral.” She smiled sincerely, eyes the same steel blue as her son’s boring into mine. “Honey, go see him. He’s been asking for you.”
Pulling the door open, I ran, unsure if my feet were pounding the floor in the right direction, missing a collision with a cart pushed by a custodian who fussed at me to slow down.
I passed room 196, 198, 200 and as my hand twisted the doorknob to open room 202, I exhaled.
“Hey.” An unforgettable, breath-stealing blend of surprise and elation lined Lucas Stone’s ridiculously handsome features.
“Hey,” I replied, taking slow, tentative strides closer to him even though I really wanted to run over and smother him with twelve thousand kisses.
God, he looked perfectly delish, outfitted in standard hospital threads and a coquettish smirk that made my heart pitter-patter loud enough, he must’ve heard it once I made it over to the side of his hospital bed.
Grabbing hold of my hand, Lucas drew me near, piercing gaze swaying with mine. “So”—his voice sounded gruff, surprisingly sexy for someone newly concussed—“what the heck took you so long?”
15
My father used to say bumps in the road were springboards skyrocketing us closer to our dreams. As a kid, that parental proverb lacked substance, meaning; however, as I crept further into adulthood, Dad’s inspirational phrase meant everything.
After the doctor told me there’d be no football for at least two or three weeks, I was shattered. Two weeks sans football meant I’d miss playoff games, miss closing out our winning season, and most importantly, miss scouts in the stands scoping me out as a potential prospect.
Coach K and Dad reminded me scouts attend the NFL Combine—a predraft event I’d received an invitation to over summer break. That in mind, I decided to view my concussion as a positive. That bump in the road needed to springboard me closer to my dream. Macy.
