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The first thing I noticed when my eyes flicked open was the white fluorescent light bulb that hung from the ceiling. I blinked twice, trying to clear the fuzziness in my head. I knew that I didn't have a bulb like that in my room. So, it appeared as if I was not in my bedroom.
I became instantly alarmed. Where was I? I looked around and saw myself surrounded by a few other cubicles and beds, with other people lying on them. At that point, I began to remember everything that had happened to me.
The tall, handsome guy who came into the bookstore to buy a book for his niece, me trying to get his book to him after he left without taking the item he came in to buy, and that fall. I remembered the pain that shot through my ankle when I fell and the banging headache that had hit me as I slammed my head against the ground. It all came back as I lay there on the hospital bed.
One question that I still didn't know the answer to was how I got there? I could remember that man and another fellow taking me back inside to the bookstore counter and talking about getting me to the hospital. Still, I had no memory of him doing that. To the best of my recollection, I had turned him down.
It was all crazy. The last time I was conscious, I had felt a terrible pain in my ankle, and my head felt like it was going to split into two with the kind of headache I was having. Now, all that was gone, I could turn my ankle, and I really did not feel any… Ouch! I felt a sharp burst of pain as I turned my ankle in a different direction, but it otherwise felt normal.
It wasn’t serious anyway, and I was sure I could put weight on it and walk quite well. My concerns were now about the store. What had happened during the time I'd been absent? How long had I been gone or even been here at the hospital?
I was still thinking about these things when I saw that man. The same man whose appearance had caused all the embarrassment and the clumsiness that brought me to this place. If I needed any reminder about how gorgeous he was, I was getting it now as I stared at him, dressed in a black suit that impeccably draped his well-built frame. He had a handsome face. God, he was gorgeous.
He came over to my bedside with the moderate strides of a calm, confident man who was in control of his world. When he saw that I was looking in his direction, at him to be specific, his lips lifted into a gentle smile.
“Hello, Kayla,” he said when he reached my side. It was that baritone voice again. It left me gaping like a fool.
I quickly took control of myself. Yes, he was a handsome, sophisticated man, but he was the origin of my troubles. I thought I would do well to steer clear of him as much as possible.
“Hi. How did you know my name?”
“That’s not the most important thing at the moment,” the man said. “How do you feel now?”
I stared at him with evil eyes for a brief second. How could he brush my question off and expect me to answer his? Yet, as I stared into his green eyes, it felt like there was a compelling force that pushed me to give him an answer. This man was not one who liked to have his questions ignored; I could see that from the way he looked at me.
“I feel great. My headache is gone, and the pain in my ankle has gone down a lot,” I told him.
“Yeah, the doctor said you'll be fine,” he said. “They did a CT scan and saw that you were lucky to not have a concussion. All you need is a few more hours of rest now, and then you can go home. The staff here has cleared you to be discharged.”
“I want to go home now, Mr....”
“Aiden, call me Aiden.”
Aiden. Now I had a name to match his handsome face.
“Okay, Mr. Aiden. I want to go home.”
He smiled at the formal way I said his name. “Okay, I'll drive you home,” he said. “And we can pick up the medication they prescribed on our way there.”
“No, I can find my way back to where I live,” I said. I couldn't think of this man driving me down the street where I lived. I didn’t want it. It was the stuff of dreams, too good to be true.
“Why?” Aiden asked. The look on his face suggested that he couldn't fathom why I was turning down his offer.
That was it. I didn't want him to understand. I just wanted him to go away and leave me in peace. I wanted to be back to myself. I didn't feel relaxed around him. There seemed to be no escape from his soulful green eyes that were fixed on my face.
“Why?” he repeated.
“It’s just, I'm not comfortable with you taking me home,” I said.
“Just like you didn't want me to bring you down here when I suggested it to you after I helped you back into your store, right? Listen, I've seen you lying on the ground, surrounded by people, and I've seen you lose consciousness. I've seen the worst already. Let me help you.”
The way he spoke warmed my soul, and I was touched that he was still trying to help despite my continuous attempts to frustrate his efforts.
“Ugh, okay. That’s fine. I should say thank you.”
“You're welcome, Kayla,” he said.
The way he said my name gave me a kind of thrill. This man was having an effect on me that was both scary and exciting.
