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“Language,” Mom said, a warning in her voice.
“Sorry,” I mumbled. “But my back is killing me.”
“Your back?” Mom asked. “How’s your leg feel?”
“My leg?” I frowned and looked down. My lower half was covered by a hospital blanket so I couldn’t see my legs. I lifted my left leg and didn’t feel any pain, but when I tried to do the same with my right, I screamed and threw my head back against the pillow.
“Don’t move it!” Darren said, rushing around to steady me. “I’ll go get your doctor, okay? Just be still.”
Darren glanced at my mom before he disappeared into the hall. I watched him go with a frown on my face. It wasn’t a surprise to see my mom here but Darren? I never expected him to flock to my bedside, no matter how badly injured I was.
“He’s worried about you,” Mom said, reading my mind.
“Right,” I snorted. “Worried I’m going to take your attention away from him.”
“Caleb!” she snapped. “Don’t talk like that.”
“I’m sorry,” I said quickly. “I’m just out of it right now. My back hurts like hell, Mom.”
“I’ll tell the doctor when he arrives,” Mom said. “For now, let’s just try to relax, okay? You’ve been through a lot, and your body needs to heal.”
I nodded, knowing that arguing would be futile. My mother had been a nurse for most of my life. She knew this hospital inside and out. There wasn’t anything I could experience as a patient she hadn’t seen a thousand times before. I could tell from the way she kept her hand clamped firmly on my shoulder that she was worried I would move too much and hurt myself even more.
She wasn’t wrong. I longed to get out of this bed, to find my buddies and hear the real story of what happened out there. They, unlike Mom and Darren, wouldn’t sugarcoat things. They would tell me straight up what the hell happened to me, brutal details included. I needed that, but I knew my mom would never let it happen. She wouldn’t leave my side unless she had to.
“Your doctor said he’d be here in a few minutes,” Darren said, stepping back into the room. “He has two patients to check up on first.”
“What?” Mom asked, her eyes narrowing with rage. “Caleb is in pain. He can’t take two seconds to stop in and assess him?”
“No,” Darren said. “You know how this works, Cathy. There are priorities.”
“That’s unacceptable,” Mom snapped. “Who is it?”
“Dr. McGee,” Darren said.
“That child?” Mom scoffed. “I’ll be right back.”
She stormed out of the room, leaving me alone with Darren, who was also a doctor at the hospital. I laughed to myself, imagining the things my mother would say to this Dr. McGee. She was a badass nurse but an even more badass mom. Despite the hell I put her through when I was young, she stood by me through everything. She defended me. I knew she would rip Dr. McGee in half if he dared to contradict her.
“I’m sorry you got hurt,” Darren said.
“Thanks.”
That was more than I could ask from Darren. He’d been my step-father since high school, but that didn’t make us close. We weren’t father and son. We tolerated each other for my mother’s sake.
Just when the silence stretched a little too long, my mother walked back through the door. I expected to see this Dr. McGee person behind her, but instead, a familiar face appeared over her shoulder.
For a split second, I stopped breathing.
A pair of pale ocean blue eyes pierced me, and my mouth fell open in shock. All my pain disappeared as I took in the sight of Tara Jones walking toward me. Her long blonde hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail. It caught the sunlight and shimmered. I swallowed hard and tried to speak, but no words came out. What was she doing here?
My eyes trailed over her body, taking in the sight of her gorgeous curves, long legs, and full, round breasts hidden beneath a pair of black stretch pants and a gray top. The top hugged her breasts, making my heart pound inside my chest. She stared at me for a few seconds before tearing her eyes away and walking toward Darren.
He smiled at her and kissed her cheek. She smiled back before turning to face me.
“Tara,” I said, finally finding my voice. “What are you doing here?”
“Well,” Tara began. She shifted her feet beneath her and realization suddenly dawned on me. Her pants were scrubs, and her top sported a name tag. She wore black tennis shoes and had a chart in her hand. I’d been so preoccupied with her presence that I hadn’t realized what she must be doing here.
