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After running his diagnostics, cleaning the cut on my forehead, and examining my bruise, Doctor Liley steps back.
“Everything looks okay, Harlow. That bruise will take a few days to go down, and you’ve got very minor whiplash. No need for a brace, I don’t think. Just be mindful of your activity levels for the next couple weeks and don’t strain it. You can take Advil for the pain.”
Relief floods me. I can deal with some pain. I became a master at handling discomfort during my cancer treatments, which made me feel like shit most of the time.
What I can’t handle right now is slowing down. There’s too much to do, too much to fucking figure out. I can’t waste any time.
“Thanks.”
I move to slip off the table, but Dax and Chase both tighten their grips on me, refusing to let me go just yet.
“That’s it?” Chase questions. “Just Advil? Anything else we should be doing? Or not letting her do?”
Doctor Liley’s lips tilt up at the corners, as if he finds it mildly amusing that these boys think they could stop me from doing something if I set my mind to it.
Which, you know, it kind of is.
“Just make sure she doesn’t play any contact sports for a few weeks. And keep an eye out for any changes in mood, behavi
or, or sleeping patterns. As I said, everything looks good, but those would be the symptoms of a more severe brain trauma, and we’d want to address that right away.”
“You got it, doc.” Chase gives my hand a little tug, helping me off the table. He wraps his arms around me, his blue-green eyes glinting with humor that can’t quite disguise the worry lurking in their clear depths. “Hear that, Low? No more rugby for you.”
I roll my eyes and poke him in the ribs, and Dax throws an arm around my shoulder when his brother releases me. The doctor is still gazing at us curiously as the guys escort me out of the room, but I ignore the feel of his stare. I guess this is stuff I’ll have to get used to if this thing between me and the kings really does become something real.
People seem confused and curious about what our relationship is, and I don’t know quite how to handle that. What should I tell them?
What should I tell my mom?
That thought makes a sudden pain twist in my heart. There was a time when I told her everything, but that ended the night Iris died. Now, with Mom in prison, our talks aren’t the same no matter how often I manage to visit. There are still things I can’t tell her, and alongside that, there’s a growing list of things I don’t know how to tell her.
Fuck. One thing at a time, Harlow. Get her out first. Then worry about the “Mom, I have four boyfriends” convo.
Thankfully, I still have insurance from Mom’s old job at the Black family residence, and after I check out, we slide into Dax’s car to head back to the twins’ house.
“Good fucking thing too.” Chase shakes his head. “Linc and River have been blowing up my phone. They’re on their way over now.”
“Yeah.” I glance down at my cell. “Mine too.”
I’ve been responding to their messages as quickly as I can, updating them on where we are and what’s going on, but I’ve felt their anxiety building slowly with each new text.
I know the feeling. They need to see me to be sure I’m truly okay. Nothing else will quite do.
The snow has stopped falling, and while we were in the ER, the plows must’ve all come out in droves, because the roads are a lot better. The blanket of white flakes covering lawns and buildings even looks sort of pretty, although I’ve decided by this point that I definitely hate winter.
It’s almost six o’clock by now, and I glance over at Dax as a thought occurs to me. “Were your parents mad you guys ditched out on Christmas to come get me?”
He snorts, the sound almost like a laugh but not quite. “Nah. They don’t give a shit. Didn’t we tell you that?”
“Um, yeah.” I run my hand over the back of my neck, massaging out the tight knots from my accident. “I just didn’t know that extended to things like this.”
“It extends to pretty much every fucking thing,” Chase puts in, and I can hear the eye roll in his voice.
“Yeah. Dad worked half the day.” Dax pulls onto a long driveway as he speaks. “We got up this morning and gave each other the presents we bought, then opened the stuff Dad’s assistant got for us while Mom was on the phone with a client overseas.”
“The only time they really care what we do is when they have friends over. Especially friends with kids. Then they trot us out to show us off and brag about whatever stupid awards or shit we’ve won.”
I raise my eyebrows, blinking in surprise. “Holy fuck. That’s…”
