Chronicles of a Serial Dater - Book 7: A New Adult Romantic Comedy (12 page)

I laid in my hospital bed fully prepped for surgery and absolutely terrified. Just as the panic clenched my chest with overwhelming strength, my father appeared, pulling a chair close to the edge of my bed. I knew what he was going to say before he even opened his mouth.

“You don’t have to do this.” He brushed my bangs away from my face. The concern in his eyes was enough to break my heart. Lord knows the last thing I wanted to do was cause this man any more grief in his life.

I closed my eyes and smiled tightly. “I do, Dad. I don’t have any other choice.”

His head dropped and he nodded. “I had to say it one last time.” He looked up and reached for the stuffed horse I had beside me. “I’m glad you have Dapples.”

The drugs lowered my defenses. The walls I normally had securely in place seemed little more than chicken wire. As he held the stuffed animal in his big hands, hot tears rolled down my face. “They said I could bring him in. It’ll be like when I got my tonsils out. That’s when Mom got him for me.” My voice quivered. I was stoned, scared, and on the verge of sobbing.

“Oh darlin’…” he said as he hugged me. I rested my chin on his big shoulder, blinking back the tears as best I could. My eyes found the IV bag and I was surprised to see it mostly empty. I hugged him with my right arm, the only thing that wasn’t connected to some monitor or needle.

“It’s okay, Dad. She always said Dapples would make sure everything went smoothly.” I took a big, shuddering breath as I tried to calm myself. My voice sounded so young, so tiny. “It’ll be like she’s here.”

My father hastily wiped tears from his face as he returned to his seat. I saw how bloodshot his eyes were and I knew he hadn’t been getting enough sleep. I hated that I was the reason for it. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“I know. I love you, Daddy,” I replied. I could hear the slur in my voice, my tongue unable to shape the words properly.

That’s one of the last moments I remember clearly. At some point the nurse came in to say the doctors were ready. I hugged my dad one last time and they wheeled my bed out of the quiet room and down the hall. The ceiling lights became a blinding kaleidoscope. A mask was put over my face and a woman with a kind voice asked me to count backwards from one hundred.

My next memory was waking up in the recovery room, disoriented, and in the worst pain of my life.

Bryan

I closed my eyes and visualized the course for the billionth time.
Steep drop, immediate right turn. Tuck into the corner and push through to the straight away. Hold tight through the launch and land ready for the hard left bank.
My muscles twitched and tightened as I waited in the gate, imagining the course opening before me. The official clapped me on the shoulder and gestured for me to move forward.

“You got this, man. Blizzard!” Dave said with a nod. It always amazed me how much shit he’d give me during practice but come race day, he was nothing but support. What more could you ask for in a teammate?

I gingerly pushed forward into the gate using my poles. I pulled my goggles off the top of my helmet and let my eyes adjust to the pink hue. The specialized lenses were designed to reduce glare and improve depth perception, something I’d desperately need as I flung myself down the mountain at 72 miles per hour.

The small crowd at the top of mountain grew quiet. I tried not to think of my mom and Angela waiting at the bottom, my dad somewhere along the course with binoculars. I took long, deep breaths and tried to steady my heart. Adrenaline coursed through my system. As always, I struggled to keep in check, keep it from overpowering me.
I rule gravity. Gravity does not rule me.
I repeated it like a mantra.

Beep. Beep. Beep. BEEEEEP.

Like a trained thoroughbred, I leapt from the gate at the sound of the bell. It was a good start. I got a good push right out of the gate, my edges digging into the snow as I propelled myself forward. Within seconds, I was barreling down the the hill. I tucked into the right turn, poles snug against my body. The rush of wind filled my ears even through the helmet. My sight felt heightened, hyper-aware. I maintained a stiff squat through the straight and braced myself as the ground fell away from under me. I flung my arms out for balance, knowing the difference between first and fourth place could be determined by one awkward landing.

Good! Fuck yes,
I thought as I touched down. I cornered left and felt the lines were better than any of my previous runs. I remember I smiled at that thought, something I never do in the middle of a race.

The next big turn on the course was shadowed, a large outcropping of rocks obscuring the sun. I knew instantly I’d taken the turn a little too aggressively, practically jumping onto my edges at full speed. I felt the skis judder beneath me and my world blurred. I was down before I even had time to cry out.

I remember taking a hard impact on my left hip before my head smacked against the ground with sickening force, enough to knock me out for a few moments. When I finally came to, I was on my back, wrapped awkwardly in the orange safety fence. I could hear voices in the distance calling my name but I didn’t answer. All I could think about was how blue the sky was, such a beautiful, deep azure.

A face hovered above me. “Hey man, you with me? Oh thank god, he’s awake. Hey man, where’s it hurt?”

I tried to shake my head. I wanted to ask him to move so I could look at the sky just a little longer. He repeated his question so I finally said, “It doesn’t hurt. I’m alright.”

A quick intake of breath hissed through his teeth and he left my field of vision. As I listened to him speak into a walkie-talkie and I vaguely wondered at the panic in his voice. “We need ski patrol up here now and get the ambulance prepped.”

At some point, I blacked out completely. My next memory was waking up in the recovery room, disoriented, and in the worst pain of my life.

Start Book 1 now!

Lauren read the text message for the tenth time, nervously biting her bottom lip.

Wear something sexy. Remember, you’re single, flirty but not slutty. Follow his lead with conversation and above all, show him a good time. You’ll do great, sweetie!

Well hopefully I’ve got the sexy part down,
she thought as she smoothed a wrinkle from her black pencil skirt. She tugged at the ruffled collar on the sleeveless blouse, exposing more cleavage.
I just hope I can manage the rest.

She reapplied the red lipstick she’d nervously chewed off and briefly considered telling the driver to keep going. As the car stopped in front of the restaurant, she realized it was too late for that. She was already in too deep. Taking a few calming breaths, she paid and stepped out. Winding her way through the crowd, Lauren searched for the man she’d seen only briefly earlier that day.

Damon Kael wasn’t a man easily overlooked. Mid-40’s with salt and pepper hair, even from a distance she’d noticed a fantastic body beneath the tailored suit. Within moments, she spotted him sitting at the bar, his arm casually draped over the back of the chair. She flicked her dark hair back, squared her shoulders, and sauntered over to him.

“Mr. Kael, I’m Lauren Kemp. I believe you spoke with my colleague Faith earlier,” she said extending her hand.

He took her hand and kissed her softly on the cheek, his stubble scratching her slightly. His eyes were focused, penetrating. She felt stripped bare by just one glance. “Yes, please have a seat. Do you drink?”

Swallowing her nerves, Lauren gracefully sat on the chair beside him and nodded. Just as she opened her mouth to tell him her normal drink, he flagged the bartender over.

He eyed her for a moment before saying, “She’ll have a Bee’s Knees. Another tonic for me.”

She was taken aback. No one had ever ordered for her like that before. She nearly corrected him by ordering something different but remembered who she was with and why she was there. Instead, she smiled sweetly.

“I’ve never heard of that particular cocktail, thank you.” She crossed her legs slowly, the skirt riding up her thigh.

“It’s sweet but has a bite, not unlike most women.” He held her gaze, his eyes a pale shade of sea green.

“Aw, I promise I won’t bite,” she said touching his knee.

He arched his eyebrow slightly. “That’s too bad,” he said calmly and looked away.

Lauren’s gut lurched at that comment but she steadied her reaction. She was used to always being the one in control, the one being chased, playing the games.
Maybe this is what it’s like with older men
, she thought. She couldn’t deny there was a part of her that wanted to grab his attention, make him look twice. He couldn’t just dismiss her so quickly.
I can’t be this rusty…

“Well maybe if you ask nicely I could accommodate you,” she purred.

“No, I never have to ask.” His smile, while disarming, didn’t seem to reach his eyes. She felt her stomach flipflop in a way she hadn’t experienced in a long time.
I know this is supposed to be work but I suppose there are worse people I could accompany to dinner.

As Lauren chewed on his last statement feeling completely out of her depth, the bartender delivered their drinks. A murky, faint pink concoction swirled in the cocktail glass. Lavender and honey scents wafted through the air. After a tentative sip she had to stop herself from swallowing the entire drink. Not only was it delicious, but she hoped the liquid courage might settle her nerves. She noticed he was watching her reaction.

She turned to him and laughed softly. “Mr. Kael, you have impeccable taste. I think I might have found a new favorite drink.”

“Please, call me Damon.”