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“Matty, you wait here, okay? I’m going to take Amber to Wyatt. She needs to go home.”
“No, no, please, Rob, stay.”
Amber-Rose looks at me. “I can see myself out,” she says.
“I’ll walk you back to the helipad,” Clay offers.
“Thanks, brother,” I say.
I watch Clay strolling away with Amber-Rose, probably cracking a few jokes, since she’s laughing now. He and I are a lot alike, although he’s more of a ladies’ man. He is seeing someone right now, but I must admit that Clay and Amber-Rose look good next to each other.
“What are you going to eat?” Matty snaps my mental deliberation about Clay and Amber-Rose.
“Ah… probably some pancakes. I need to check with the nurse about what you can have.”
Despite feeling like I’ve just been hit by a comet, I let my thoughts about Amber-Rose evaporate. My focus should be on Matty. He depends on me, and I won’t let myself get distracted by falling for a girl I've known for barely hours.
7
AMBER
Still wearing Rob’s sweater, I walk alongside Clay as we make our way to the top of the hospital.
I’ve never seen more adorable siblings than the Hartley brothers, probably never will. Good looks aside, from the time I spent with Rob and my fleeting interaction with Matty and Clay so far, I can say the trio sits in a continuum as far as personality is concerned. Rob is the most earnest and reserved, sturdy like a castle wall, as if the weight of the world is on his shoulders. His adult brother, on the other hand, seems to be laid back and sanguine; if I stick with my castle analogy, he would be the dining hall where kings and queens feast, laugh and dance. It’s hard to tell who’s older, but I think Rob is. As for Matty, he probably wasn’t himself, having come out of a traumatic event, but I could see his thoughtfulness shining through, like Rob’s. At the same time, the boy seems boisterous. The way he told me how silly I was thinking that Rob was his dad showed that he didn’t take things too seriously (I just found out from Clay that their dad died in the accident, too).
But there’s one consistent thing that I find in each of them—when they smile, they melt hearts. Not just because their smiles are hellishly charming, but they’re genuine—as if they really want to invite you into their world.
“How long does Matty need to stay in the hospital?” I ask, continuing my small talk with Clay.
“The doctors think for another couple of weeks.”
“I hope he recovers soon.”
“Thanks. Bjork will make everything better.”
I nod. “All teddies do.”
“I’d gone to four toy repairers around LA, and none of them dared to handle that bear,” Clay says. “So I owe you.Weowe you.”
“I’m glad I could help.”
“Ready to go?” The pilot, Wyatt, greets me at the helipad.
Clay gives me a goodbye peck on the cheek. “If you need anything at all, just call Rob.”
“Okay.”
Perhaps sensing that my okay is far too casual to mean a yes, he says, “My brother didn’t give you his number, did he?” He takes out a business card and writes a number on the back, followed by ‘Rob’ with a double underline.
“Call him.”
“Thanks.”
I take the same seat as I did coming into Los Angeles. As Wyatt takes the chopper into the sky, I stare at the empty chair next to me. I fiddle with my own hand, trying to recreate the sensation when Rob tried to wake me up from my nightmare. I dreamed that I was swimming in black water, and then two hands were grabbing at my ankles. I didn’t see who it was, but I knew it was Aidan. Then, I felt a pair of hands squeezing my right hand.
But It couldn’t have been Rob.It can’t be him who took me out of Lake Geneva. Even though the emotion he evoked was real, strong—and familiar. I convince myself it’s the residue of the nightmare that made me wake up with such a sensation.
“Rob’s friend is waiting for you at the airport,” Wyatt says.
