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“I suppose I should wander down to check in on Beth,” Dylan said. “I told Dad not to come down. She doesn’t need him creating a scene.” Dylan cringed. “He’s still a wee bit protective.”
Like father, like son.
“I haven’t seen her since they brought her in. She’s in room three. They were cooling her down and had her on IV fluids in the ambulance.”
“Come on, let’s go,” Dylan said.
“I should head ba—” Grayson turned to find Dylan several strides away, walking down the corridor. He hustled to catch up.
“Nonsense. I haven’t seen you in how many years? Besides, you’ve always been an expert at pressing Beth’s buttons. She probably needs a little rousing to get back on her feet. What was that nickname you used to call her?”
Oh, that. “I doubt she wants me in there.”
“She was always tagging along, and you could always get rid of her when we were tired of babysitting.” Dylan stopped mid-stride. “Bookworm, right?”
Grayson cringed at the silly moniker.
“Yeah.” He’d coined her hot-button nickname by luck one day. She’d been toting along her usual stack of books, dragging them into the tree house while wearing her dad’s flannel shirt and sweats.
He’d chided her.
“I’ll never forget her face when you called her Bookworm Bethy that first time. Her mouth dropped into an O, and I was sure she’d slug you.”
Grayson had known she wouldn’t. She’d been too sweet to do that. “I was such a jerk.”
“It worked though. You could get rid of her every time we wanted to.”
“What happened to being the protector?”
“Oh, that came with age. When she was a pesky elementary school tagalong, we were supposed to ditch her.”
“Right.” Grayson’s fingers tightened on his hat brim. He needed to steer clear of the past, or he might just sink in it.
“Name calling didn’t fall into my best moments.” His voice came out roughened by shame.
“You probably owe her an apology.”
No doubt. For more than the teasing.
They turned the corner of the hospital corridor, their footsteps clicking on the hard linoleum floor.
Today, outside the library, she’d looked up at him, gratitude and admiration in her dazed eyes—and a little piece of him wanted to be the man she thought she saw. The man who could show up instead of hide away.
Until she’d realized who he was.
Her face had fallen, and her already crimson cheeks had blushed darker.
Dylan checked in with a nearby nurse, who nodded and pointed toward room three.
Grayson stayed at the threshold of the patient room while Dylan walked inside.
“Hey, how are you?” Dylan asked.
“Oh my goodness, Dylan—you wouldn’t believe who—” Her eyes landed on Grayson.
She lifted a hand to her hair and tried to smooth the tangled tresses. “Hey.” She sat up on the bed. “You didn’t have to come to the hospital.” Her words were flat.
“I wanted to make sure Dylan got here.”
