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But I couldn’t see him. I couldn’t see anything as the world around me blurred.
“Bubbe?” I whimpered into the phone.
“Just come, Skylar,” she was saying. “I don’t know what to do. I’m at the hospital now, and they’re bringing him into surgery, for what, I don’t know. We need you here,bubbela. I can’t do this without you.”
Two hands pulled me off the mailbox and into a pair of strong arms. My head tipped back to find a familiar, handsome face furrowed with concern, large blue eyes pools of worry. I breathed a little bit easier. Brandon.
“I’ll be there, Bubbe,” I said. “I’m on my way.”
* * *
“Skylar,I can get us there in an hour if we take the plane.”
Brandon had convinced me to return to my apartment to pack a few things before leaving for New York. Nothing about my dad’s condition would be improved by arriving an hour earlier, he’d said, and I assumed I would be there for several days. At least it was spring break. I wouldn’t have to miss class to help with Dad’s initial recovery.
“That’s really not necessary,” I said as I stuffed another pair of jeans into my suitcase.
I looked around my room, which, between my hurry to pack as quickly as possible, looked pretty much like a tornado had gone through my closet and blown everything onto my bed. I tried to think if I had forgotten anything, but came up empty. I clambered onto the bed and sat on my suitcase to zip it shut.
“Skylar,” Brandon said with more than a little irritation. He leaned around me to help press the bag down while I zipped. “Please. I’d like to help.”
“You are helping,” I said absently as I fastened the extra buckles. “I closed this bag a lot faster than if you weren’t here.”
Brandon huffed. “Stop it.”
I slid off the suitcase and started packing my messenger bag. I’d have to miss my regular clinic hours this week, but there was no help for that. I’d do the best I could from Brooklyn.
“It’s a misuse of company resources,” I said as I wrapped up my computer cord. “I’m sorry, but it’s ridiculous. You can’t go flying your girlfriend home at a moment’s notice on a company plane. You and I both know that every spare cent in your company is under a microscope because of the IPO.”
“It’smyfucking plane, Skylar!” Brandon grasped my hands in between his and forced me to face him. “I don’t know what’s going on with your dad, but come on. Let me help however I can.”
“It’s not an emergency,” I bit out, unable to escape the tears that welled at the thought of Dad in surgery. “He’ll be fine until the morning—that’s what the doctors said. I just need to get there before he wakes up. The bus will be fine.”
Brandon pushed out a frustrated breath. “Jesus Christ, you’re stubborn. All right, fine. But we’ll take my car. David can drive.”
“You don’t have to come—” I started to protest, but I couldn’t get another word out before my mouth was covered with a kiss that started out frantic but progressed into something softer, slower, and sadder by the end. When Brandon finished, he stayed close, his forehead touching mine.
“Yeah, I do,” he said quietly. “Let me be there for you, will you?”
Unable to be kept at bay any longer, tears fell freely down my face. Brandon immediately wrapped both arms securely around my waist, holding me up as I collapsed into his chest.
“Shh, shh,” he crooned, brushing my hair softly as I cried. “Let it go, baby. I got you.”
He had me. In a moment like this, a moment where the foundation of my life seemed like it was cracking in half, his strength was everything. It was all I could ask for. It was all I could want.
* * *
The Mercedes cruisedout of town, flying stealth among the myriad other travelers. Between the built-in TV monitors in the back of the seats and the gorgeous man holding me securely for most of the trip, it was a far cry from the Chinatown firetraps I usually took home. Brandon was content to let me ride in silence, urging me to relax against his chest and stream a movie while he answered emails on his phone. I made it about an hour into the most recent superhero flick before the vibration of the car eventually lulled me to sleep.
“Skylar. Baby, we’re here.”
I sat up in a rush, yanked out of a dream in which I had been prosecuting Tony Stark for reckless endangerment. Brandon nodded toward the bright lights of Maimonides Hospital. I blinked and shoved a hand through my hair before I checked my watch. It was just after ten thirty. David had made good time.
“You all right, Red?” Brandon asked as his strong fingers loosened the kinks in my neck from sleeping on his lap.
I leaned gratefully into his touch. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good.”
David opened the door, and we exited the car. Brandon turned to his driver.
