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I crouched, careful where I placed my hands. The kid’s eyes were screwed shut, and his leg was smashed under the bike. Its front tire was bent and twisted the wrong direction.
“Is he okay?”
I narrowed my eyes, unsure why my heart was racing like it was. I knew he was okay—there wasn’t any blood, and he hadn’t been hit by the car—but this freckle-faced kid belonged to Bexley, making me feel strangely protective of him.
“Can you call an ambulance? I want to be sure he’s okay,” I said softly to the guy to try to keep him calm. “Hey, buddy, can you hear me?” I said, gently patting the kid’s cheek. Thankfully, he’d had his helmet on.
A pair of blue eyes blinked open, staring up at me. His dark hair was matted under the helmet, his face a pale white, making him look so young and fragile, so breakable. How did parents do this? How could you let something so meaningful walk out of your house and risk getting hurt?
The kid gasped. “You’re Ryan Prince.”
I smiled down at him, glad he was well enough to be starstruck. “I am.”
“Cole!” a female voice yelled from down the street. “Oh my god! Cole, are you okay?” Bexley sprinted toward us. She was barefoot, wearing a pair of jean shorts and a simple tank top. The sidewalk was blistering hot, so I had no idea how she was even upright.
She slid to a stop, bending down over her son. Her hair was pulled back in an elastic tie, leaving little strands falling around her face, making her look gorgeous in a way that models and Hollywood’s finest had to work hours for—but it was the concerned look on her face that did me in. Fuck, motherhood looked good on her. She glowed, lit up like the goddam sun when she looked at her kid.
I sat back, giving her some room, needing a second to recover from her blinding love. The kid’s eyes didn’t leave me though.
“Mom, I’m fine…my leg just hurts,” Cole said with a bit of a wince.
The sound of sirens echoed from down the street. Bexley looked up and around, a new kind of worry etched along her features.
“Shit,” she whispered.
The guy who’d been driving bent down and started rapidly stating facts and apologies.
“Nick, it’s fine. It was an accident,” she said to her neighbor, likely trying to get him to calm the hell down. He was more worked up than the kid was. She still hadn’t seemed to notice me, or if she had, she just didn’t act like she had.
“Buddy, can you stand?” she asked, carefully pulling at the bike, but it wouldn’t budge. Before Nick the neighbor could help out, I bent down to help lift it off of him.
“Owwww,” Cole cried, cradling his shin.
The ambulance parked across the street, and a few EMTs ran over with their gear and bent down next to Cole.
I stood back so they could asses him. A cop car pulled up behind the ambulance, and an officer slowly crossed the street toward us. Grabbing for his notepad, he eyed the neighbor and myself—the only two people not talking to the kid and the EMTs.
“Who was the driver?” the cop asked, eyeing the dark-haired man to my left. Helookedguilty, which was probably why he questioned him first.
Nick went pale as he struggled to find words.
“I saw the kid riding and noticed that he didn’t see the truck.” I gestured toward the guy. “Nick here was pulling out, and I honked my horn to try to get his attention, but it was too late. The kid ran into the bed of the truck.”
“I didn’t see him. I swear…” Nick started.
“We won’t press charges. It’s fine, Nick.” Bexley stood, joining our conversation. The EMTs were bracing their hands along Cole’s leg.
I eyed her, frustration gnawing away at me. I didn’t want the guy to go to jail, but he should know that kids ride in this neighborhood…it was a freaking subdivision with family homes on either side of the street. He should at least get a slap on the wrist for exiting his driveway so fast.
“Do you want us to take him to the hospital?” the EMT asked.
Bexley brought a hand to her forehead, rubbing at it. A second later, she shook her head no.
“I’ll take him. Thank you so much for coming out.”
“Okay, we’ll head out.” The EMTs and the officer walked away, leaving us alone.
Cole clearly couldn’t walk, and Bexley didn’t look like she could carry him, something she probably hadn’t considered when she turned down the ambulance. She bent down to pick up the destroyed bike while trying to help her son balance on his undamaged leg.
