Page 67 of Fearlessly Us

“Fine, I know,” the nurse finishes for me. “I’m sure the fact that you can barely sit up right now without your face turning as white as those sheets you’re lying on means you are so completely fine and definitely not in any pain at all. But the fact remains that hospital policy states I cannot permit you to walk out of those doors until I lay eyes on the person who is going to make sure you get home safely. It’s for liability reasons. I’m sure a…fucking lawyer such as yourself can understand that.”

Touché, Kelly. Tou-fucking-ché.

She smirks at me and I huff out a laugh that dies immediately when a bolt of pain lances through my abdomen.

“Shit,” I mutter, hunching my shoulders against the sensation.

“Indeed,” the nurse says, nodding her head and coming over to sit on the edge of my bed. “It’s going to be that way for a few days, Caitlin. You’ll be sore and tired, and it’ll be nice to have someone to help you out. Listen,” she says, laying a hand over mine. “I’ve been doing this for a while now. I can tell the difference between the patients who really don’t have anyone and the patients who have a lot of someones but don’t want to inconvenience them, or burden them with your pain.”

She gives me a pointed look, and the guilt I’ve been studiously ignoring for not telling my people what’s going on comes roaring back to life. “Direct hit there, Kelly.”

She nods. “I know. I never miss. Which means I also know all those someones in your life probably have no idea you’re here right now.”

I close my eyes, sucking in a breath and wondering how the fuck I got here. Not in the physical way, but in the existential, I just had laparoscopic surgical tools digging around my insides to try to diagnose a serious issue I’ve had for fifteen years and not one single one of my friends or family members know about it way.

Exhaling slowly, I open my eyes, and when I mumble, “What the hell am I supposed to do?” I’m not just talking about the thing where moving into the hospital because I don’t want to call anyone to pick me up isn’t really an option.

Kelly reaches over and grabs my phone from the rolling table by the bed, handing it to me. “Think of the person in your life who will ask the fewest questions. The one who will show up and be what you need right now. Today. Today you have very specific needs, and I suspect you have someone in your life who can meet them. Call that person. You can deal with everyone else another time.”

Drew.

His name comes back to me in an instant.

The man who researched sex for people with problem periods and made what could have been awkward and weird into one of the best nights of my life. The best night of my life. And then four more nights just like that. Four nights of homemade dinners and ice cream in bed. Laughing in his kitchen or mine. Movies and talking and more orgasms than I could possibly count. Connection, in a way I’ve never felt before. Hot baths because he was worried I would be sore and nights sleeping with his arms around me and my head on his chest in the place I’ve come to think of as mine. Wondering why I always think I want to be alone because after the last few days, I only want to be with him.

Every beautiful, broken inch of him.

I used catching up on work before the week started as an excuse to stay home last night because I had the surgery this morning and didn’t know how to tell him when I already spent so much time not telling him, but I realize now I could have. I should have.

I can call Drew.

I’ll be safe with him.

“Make the call,” Kelly says gently, patting my hand. “I’ll step out. And Caitlin?”

“Yeah?” I say, looking up from the dark phone screen I’ve been staring at while my mind raced.

“It’s okay to let people in. The right people won’t let you down.”

Kelly steps out, and I keep my gaze fixed on the curtain she slides shut behind her, turning her words around in my brain. I have so many people who won’t let me down. I know that. And maybe it’s time to start figuring out how to let them in too. I think, once my stomach stops hurting like I’m being repeatedly stabbed with knives, I’m going to start making some different choices.

But first thing’s first.

I need to get the fuck out of his hospital.

Picking up my phone, I unlock the screen and find Drew’s contact, pressing the green button to make the call.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

DREW

“Fuck yeah!” Oliver spins around and pumps a fist in the air, jerking a finger back at the bowling lane where all ten pins are scattered on the ground. “Beat that, assholes.” Dropping down on the cracked vinyl booth surrounding a table covered in drinks and bowling alley food, he reaches for his Coke and takes a long sip.

“You are freakishly good at bowling,” Cam says, studying Oliver. “Like, it’s weird right?” He looks at the rest of us for confirmation.

“So fucking weird.” Jack rolls his eyes and grabs another slice of pizza. “He’s been like this since we were kids. No one understands it.”

“He cleaned up on the birthday party circuit.” Tyler stands and rolls his shoulders, shaking out his hands like he’s preparing for the World Series of Bowling instead of a friendly game in an empty bowling alley on a Monday free from practice and games and all other adult responsibilities. “It killed me that I could never beat him.” Tyler grins at Oliver. “But I made it to the Renegades before he made it to the Lightning, so I beat him where it counts.”