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Chapter 13
MEL
Pete was so good at Bee’s wedding. He put up with every single suck-up comment Philip made to him. Honestly, I would have bowed out way earlier than he did.
Sitting there, watching him make nice when he mustn’t have wanted to, just to make me happy…I maybe fell the tiniest bit in love with him. Which is all it can be! A tiny bit. We are not destined for an epic love story. Firstly, we’re not each other’s type. Secondly, I’m leaving Seattle after graduation. Thirdly… his family would never approve.
Still, I have exams next week and graduation the month after. Freedom is so close I can almost taste it. I’m going to miss Pete when this is all over, and I’m making the most of every moment. No matter how small.
Tonight isn’t a small moment. It’s not another night on my couch with takeout and beer, watching romcoms. We’re going out to dinner. Not near the marina, but at another fancy restaurant. I would never admit it, even under pain of torture, but I maybe - just the tiniest amount - enjoy being spoiled by Pete when he takes me to expensive, fancy restaurants. It’s like living in a fairytale. But I’m the princess, not the pixie.
This restaurant is another fancy one. There is no incredible view, but it just has that vibe - you know… you can’t afford this - that vibe. Pete’s family doesn’t have a special table here, but when he gives his name, they fawn over him just the same.
Pete shoots me a look as the hostess bats her lashes and laughs just a little too fakely. I bite back a grin, enjoying the way Pete’s thumb strokes over the flesh at my back as we walk to our secluded table.
I sit immediately, but Pete says something to the hostess as she starts to move away. She giggles, nodding up at him, placing her hand on his arm. My eyes narrow at the gesture, but Pete doesn’t even seem to notice. Oh well, I can’t let it bother me. I’m leaving in just over a month.
I need to start plotting an actual future. Like, really need to. But I can’t find the attention span to sit down and plot out a course for myself. Maybe I should download interstate bus timetables tomorrow. I’ve been thinking about Chicago. I’ve heard good things.
No menus appear, but some delicious champagne does as Pete’s foot rubs against my ankle. I catch his grin, playing footsies back with him.
“It’s a tasting menu,” Pete informs me as a waiter appears, placing two bowls down.
My mouth waters. This looks amazing. Pulled pork, blanched peas, a soft-boiled duck egg. Incredible. The paired wine is amazing too. I moan, my eyes fluttering closed as I take a bite. When my eyes open, I blush, staring at Pete as he’s watching me with heated eyes.
“I love watching you eat,” he murmurs, his voice husky, his foot slowly sliding up my calf. Okay, my insides are definitely fluttering south of my stomach.
“Are you ready for your exams next week?” he asks, reaching for his wine as our plates are cleared. Tipping my head to the side, I wrinkle my nose.
“As ready as I’ll ever be. I feel like they have been ten years coming.”
Pete smiles indulgently at me. “And future plans? Are you thinking of staying at Sea Nest? You said you’ve been enjoying the work.”
“I won’t stay with them, but I know what I want to do. I want to be a designer who works with construction companies. I don’t mind also doing redecorations for bored housewives, but I love working with a completely new canvas. It’s amazing.”
Pete smiles again, setting down his wine as the next course is brought out. My mouth is watering again. Salmon. Crispy skinned salmon sitting in a creamy sauce. So good.
Forking in a mouthful, I manage not to moan this time, though it is divine. I almost keep my eyes open. Pete’s eyes are drinking in my face as he eats a bite of his own salmon. I can see the flash of desire, and my cheeks heat up.
It’s not just my face. I’m starting to feel really warm. I wonder if they are having a problem with their heating. It’s May, so they don’t need heating, and I’m not dressed for a heated room.
I take a sip of my white wine, hoping it will cool me down. My cheeks must be really red now. They certainly feel that way. The wine feels weird on my tongue, my whole mouth tingling. Shit!
My eyes widen, and Pete’s eyes copy the gesture.
“Tinker Bell? Are you okay?”
I shake my head, and he drops his fork, reaching across the table. “What’s going on?”
“Epi…Pen,” I gasp, scratching at my throat with my fingers.
“Fuck!” Pete swears, snatching up my purse, digging the EpiPen out. “I’ve never used one. What the fuck do I do?”
He’s kneeling beside me now, holding the EpiPen like an actual pen.
“Is everything okay, Mr. Rampwood?” The flirty hostess is back.
“She’s having an allergic reaction. Call a fucking ambulance,” Pete snaps at her. She squeaks and disappears.
I don’t need an ambulance. I need my EpiPen. I grab at Pete’s hand. Popping the yellow cap as black creeps around the edges of my vision. Knocking at his hand, the carrier tube tips sideways, and the auto-injector starts slipping out.
Pete catches on, tipping the auto-injector out into his other palm. His fingers close around it, and he’s finally holding it properly in his fist. Blue to the sky, orange to the thigh. Nothing happens when my lips move to tell him the rhyme my doctor drummed into my brain. He is holding it correctly, just not against my leg.
“Her lips are turning blue!” someone yells.
“Tinker Bell, what do I do?” Pete demands urgently.
I feebly grab at his hand, and he follows my movement until it’s pressed against my thigh. I pull the safety release at the top, my hand landing on his and attempting to push it at my thigh. Pete realizes what I’m trying to do, pressing down.
There is a click, Pete’s frantic eyes holding mine, black creeping further. I let go of his hand, and he drops the EpiPen, tugging me into his arms.
“Please be okay, Tinker Bell. You have to be okay,” he murmurs into my hair as the black edges meet in the middle of my eyes.
PETE
Time stops as Mel slumps against me, her eyes closed. Fuck. She’s passed out.
“Please, Tinker Bell. Wake up,” I beg her.
“Anaphylactic shock?”
“Over there, on the ground. They used one of those thigh shot things.”
“Sir?”
I look up, still cradling Mel against my chest, and find myself looking at a paramedic. Oh, thank fuck.
“You used an EpiPen?”
“Yeah.” I snatch it off the ground, handing it to him as another paramedic helps me lift Mel and lay her on the gurney they are wheeling in.
“What is she allergic to?”
“Cashews. But I told them that when we arrived. They assured me there were no cashews on the menu.” I glare at the hostess, who pales immediately, wilting under my gaze.
“There is cashew in the salmon sauce,” she whispers.
What the fuck? I’m ready to erupt with rage. She fucking laughed and told me it wouldn’t be an issue. This is beyond a fuck up. A fuck up is pairing the wrong wine. Mel could have died.
I would stay to tear the hostess and the restaurant a new asshole, but the paramedics are wheeling a still-unconscious Mel out of the restaurant. I snatch up her purse, hurrying after her and climbing into the back of the ambulance, taking the seat they point at and strapping myself in.
They fix on an oxygen mask, asking how long she has been unconscious. I answer mechanically, the best I can, my eyes glued to Mel’s face. It’s bone-white now, all the red has faded, and her lips are no longer swollen.
I follow the gurney at the hospital, clutching Mel’s purse and sitting on the uncomfortable, scratchy blue armchair in the corner of the ER as they pull the curtains around to give us privacy. A nurse comes to check on her and starts an IV line, but otherwise, we are left alone.
The form for Mel’s insurance is lying on the movable tray table beside me, blank. I don’t know her information, but I assured the patient representative I would cover any bills. Or rather, the restaurant will.
“Pete?” Mel’s voice is raspy, her eyes blinking open.
“Tinker Bell?” I lean forward, grasping her hand and pressing a kiss to the webbing between her thumb and forefinger.
“That salmon was worth it,” she croaks. “It melted in my mouth.”
The corners of my lips tug up into a small smile. Of course she’s making jokes. That’s my Tinker Bell.
“How are you feeling?”
“Like my brain was deprived of oxygen. It’s a rush.”
Still joking. I hit the call button for a nurse, kissing her hand again.
“At least now you know how to use an EpiPen,” she tries again. Fucking A, I do. When she gets her next one, I’ll be reading the instructions carefully. Very carefully.
“Are we awake? How are we feeling?” The nurse bustles in, chatting with Mel and checking her vitals.
“I’m okay. Can I have some water, please?”
“Of course, dear. I’ll bring a bottle in for you. The doctor will be around to see you soon.”
Mel nods, smiling at me as the nurse leaves, pulling the curtain behind her.
“This certainly was an exciting date.”
“I could live with a less exciting one,” I growl back at her. She giggles softly, turning her eyes to the curtain as it twitches, and the doctor walks in, checking her vitals as well.
“The nurse will bring another EpiPen. Don’t forget to fill out your insurance details, and you should be okay to go home.”
“Thanks.”
As the doctor leaves, Mel reaches for the clipboard. I hand it and the pen to her. She slowly fills it all in, signing it and handing it back to me. I run my eyes over it quickly. She has insurance. There will still be an out-of-pocket amount. I cross out her contact details for the billing department and write mine.
The nurse reappears, handing Mel a bottle of water, making some notes, and taking the clipboard off me.
“Let’s get you discharged.”
Mel beams at her, sitting up slowly. I move to help her.
I get us a cab back to Mel’s place - I can pick up my car from the restaurant tomorrow - and help her into bed when we arrive.
Mel smiles sleepily as I drop the EpiPen on the nightstand and strip to my trunks. Sliding in beside her, I wrap my arm tightly around her as she curls up against my chest and sighs, falling asleep quickly. I guess almost dying takes it out of you.
I carefully read the EpiPen instructions in the light of the nightstand lamp, committing them to memory. Dropping them back onto the nightstand, I turn off the lamp, curling myself around Mel and burying my face in her hair.
I have never, in my life, been as scared as I was tonight when Mel’s face started turning red, her lips swelling and turning blue. I almost lost her, and the thought scares the hell out of me.
