Losing Romeo (11 page)

Chapter Sixteen

Bryson tapped his foot, anxious to get this appointment over with. Even more anxious about what the doctor would say. He glanced at his watch again—fifteen minutes past his scheduled time. And closer to the time when Rosaline would be out with Sam Webster, boy wonder. Bryson rarely stepped foot in Lowell, and even he’d heard about Sam’s record-breaking football season.

If it’s between him and me, of course she’s not going to choose the gimp.

Bryson leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees.
Maybe Dr. Lewis will have good news for me. Then at least I can tell her I won’t limp forever.

Pages rustled together as Winslow twisted the magazine in his hands to look at his watch. “I need to make a call. If they come for you while I’m gone—”

“I know the drill.” After Bryson had been jumped, his knee blown to hell, the hospital in Memphis had worked to save his life, and they’d done it. They’d told him he’d need more surgery on his knee, but they wanted him to recover from the broken ribs, cuts and bruises, and all his other injuries first. Winslow searched out the top orthopedic surgeons. The Mayo Clinic was one of the top-rated orthopedic hospitals, and this was Bryson’s second appointment with Dr. Lewis.

Winslow stood, but as he neared the door, a large woman who looked like she broke bones for a living called Bryson’s name. Winslow came back and Bryson grabbed his cane, trying to brace himself for whatever fate the doctor told him he had.

***

“So I couldn’t do motocross, even with the artificial knee?” Bryson asked.

“With an artificial knee, you’d have to stick to strictly low-impact activities,” Dr. Lewis said. “The other problem is that you’re young, so if you do the replacement now, it could wear out and you’d need another one down the road.”

Winslow had asked about the artificial knee as an option, and Bryson was trying to take it all in, weighing the pros and cons. “And if I don’t have the surgery? Then how much chance do I have getting full use of my knee back?”

“The way the bullet hit…all those bone fragments and torn up muscle and ligaments…” The doctor’s lips thinned. Bad news. “It’ll never be the way it used to be. But I’d suggest holding off on the artificial knee. I think if we go in and do the surgery on the ACL, you’ll see at least some improvement.”

“Go through surgery all over again for ‘some improvement’?” Bryson asked, fighting not to sound angry or sad or any of the other emotions creating a storm inside of him. “How much improvement are we talking?”

Dr. Lewis furrowed his brow. “It’s hard to say.”

“Ballpark, Doctor,” Bryson said. “I’d rather do the surgery thing as few times as possible.”

The doctor sighed, and he doubted that was a good sign. “For one, you were hard on your joints even before you were shot. With all the damage the bullet did, and the way the bones fused back together…”

Bryson didn’t need him to finish to know that his dreams of riding again were just that. Dreams.

***

Sam draped his arm around Rosaline’s shoulders. He smelled of a too-heavy application of one of the overpowering spicy body sprays guys her age seemed to love. Thank goodness Bryson stuck to the lighter scents—more than anything, he smelled like outside. And a hint of grease. She couldn’t believe that she liked the smell of grease, but there was something so masculine about it.

Here I am on a date with a nice, perfectly good-looking boy, and I can’t stop thinking about Bryson.

Leanne and Billy sat across the table, scanning their menus. Rosaline had been wrong about no one being paired up. Leanne and Billy were obviously paired. But it seemed new, as if they were still unsure how to be boyfriend and girlfriend instead of friends.

“I recommend the brisket,” Sam said. “They do the Memphis-style barbeque here. You haven’t
lived
until you’ve had it Memphis-style.”

Rosaline dropped her menu. “So all this time I’ve been dead? That’s a total bummer.”

Sam’s eyebrows pulled together, the confusion on his features clear.

“Sorry,” she said. “My aunt makes me leave my sarcasm at home before I go anywhere with her. I brought it with me tonight because I was afraid it was starting to get lonely without me.”

The crease between Sam’s eyebrows only deepened, and now Leanne and Billy were staring at her with the same bewildered expressions.
Okay, just shut up before you humiliate yourself. More than you already have, that is.

Rosaline picked up her menu and studied it like it was profound literature.

The waitress came and took their orders, taking away the menu Rosaline was hiding behind and leaving her with no idea what to say next.

Leanne folded her arms on the table. “Has anyone told you about Mudtown Days yet? It’s this big celebration at the end of the month, and you won’t believe how crazy this little town gets. There’s a carnival and food and car shows and a dance. You can’t miss it.”

“I’ll be there,” Rosaline said. “As long as Dafne approves it, of course.”

“She should. She helps out every year.”

Sam rubbed his fingers along the top of Rosaline’s shoulder. “Why’s your aunt so strict? She gave me the third-degree over the phone.”

“She isn’t really.” At Sam’s skeptical expression she added, “It’s my parents. They send me half a country away but still insist on hovering.”

Even tonight, Dafne had told her she worried she shouldn’t have said yes to letting her go out. Then she said it was probably best if she called it hanging out with a group instead of a date. “It’s not really lying,” Dafne had blurted out, a guilty look on her face. The more Rosaline was around her aunt, the more she loved her.

“Why’d they send you out here then?” Leanne asked.

That question got everyone’s attention.
Oh boy. Guess it was inevitable anyway.
She wondered how long her mistake would haunt her. “I, um, got into a bit of trouble in Verona. So they sent me here, away from my friends and…pretty much everything.”

“
Ooh
. A bad girl,” Billy said. “Sam’s never done anything wrong in his life. You’ll have to ease him into it.”

Great. These people didn’t get her, and now they had the totally wrong impression. “It’s not like that at all. I’m actually a good Catholic school girl.”

Sam nudged her with his elbow. “I bet you look hot in your uniform.”

Here she was mentally rehashing the worst moment of her life, and he was talking about her uniform.
This was a mistake. I should’ve stayed home.

Luckily, the food showed up and the conversation switched to that.

After they’d finished eating and were leaving the restaurant, Sam hung back, slowing so that Leanne and Billy got farther ahead of him and Rosaline. “I’m sorry about earlier,” he said. “Billy talks before he thinks. I could see you were uncomfortable, so I was trying to lighten the mood. I think I failed.”

Rosaline ran a hand through her hair. “I’m not proud of what I did. I’m embarrassed, actually, and I just want to put it behind me.”

“Well as far as I’m concerned, it’s forgotten.” He shot her a big smile.

Now she was having second thoughts about her second thoughts. Here he was trying to make her feel better, and doing a good job of it, too. “Thanks.”

“Hey,” Billy yelled. “Piggyback race to the town square? Loser buys ice cream.”

“You’re on,” Sam said, grabbing Rosaline’s hand and tugging her toward his friends.

Leanne climbed onto Billy’s back, and Sam gestured for her to get on his. “It’s this thing we do. It’s stupid, but I need you to go with it, or else I’ll have to hear about how I chickened out all night.”

Rosaline glanced at Leanne and Billy and then reluctantly climbed onto Sam’s back.
I can’t believe I’m actually doing this.

Sam gripped her thighs. “Hold on.”

She tightened her grip around his shoulders.

“Go!” Billy yelled, and then they were racing toward the town square, laughing and screaming. The ride was smoother than she thought it would be, and she found herself cheering for Sam to hurry.

He held out a hand and hit the tree—the finish line apparently—seconds before Billy.

The guys exchanged verbal jabs, with Billy accusing Sam of cheating. Sam said something about him always being a sore loser, but it was done in a teasing tone. Rosaline stood back and observed, basking in how nice it was to be out, piggyback racing and all. After the trash talk was complete, the group started for the ice cream shop.

Sam grabbed Rosaline’s hand, lacing his fingers with hers. “Don’t worry, we do normal things, too.”

“Actually, I’m learning to like the odd things,” she said.

Devilish grin on his face, Sam squeezed her hand. “Are you calling me odd?”

Not returning his smile was impossible. He pulled her toward him, and she knew if she let him, he was going to kiss her.

“I got in trouble over a guy,” she blurted out as his lips neared hers. “Not just a guy, actually, but he kind of started the whole ordeal and I’ve had fun tonight, but I need to take things slow. If that changes your mind about me, then—”

Sam put a finger on her lip, cutting off her words. “We can go slow.”

It was such a relief she wanted to hug him. But that wouldn’t keep with her going-slow statement. “Thanks for understanding.”

“Hey, it’s not every day a girl as pretty as you comes to Lowell.” He took hold of her hand again and squeezed it. “I can wait.”

Oh, he was good. She could easily lose herself in his compliments and his amazing green eyes. First thing tomorrow, she needed to make an emergency call to Clara.

Chapter Seventeen

“It’s been
forever
!” Rosaline tossed the files she’d entered into the computer on top of the Done Pile Tuesday afternoon. Anticipation zipped through her to the point sitting still was becoming a problem.

“It’s been four days,” Dafne said, her fingers continuing to move across the keyboard of her office computer.

“Four and a half. I love you and all, but I need to do something besides work. I need Bryson to get back here now.” She’d missed him like crazy, and according to the airport information she’d refreshed a dozen times, his and Winslow’s flight had landed over an hour ago, so they should be here any minute.

Because Rosaline’s restlessness had driven Dafne crazy, her aunt had even let her call Clara a couple times over the past few days. Her best friend had calmed her down about Sam and told her there was no reason to rush into anything with either him or Bryson. Which was true. There was a definite rush, however, for Bryson to get here so she could hang out with him already. “Aren’t most of Winslow’s visits a day or two?”

“The office in Minnesota wasn’t running the way it should be. That, and they went a couple of days early so Bryson could go to the Mayo Clinic.”

He hadn’t mentioned he was going to the doctor. Then again, the night before he left, things had been tense.

What if they’re still tense when he gets back? I’ve been going crazy waiting, and if he acts cold…

“Winslow did invite me to go to dinner tomorrow night,” Dafne said.

Rosaline spun her chair around. “Halle-frickin’-lujah!”

“He didn’t make it sound like a date, though.”

“Well, you’re going to borrow my shortest skirt and tallest heels, and he’ll be thinking date by the end of the night.”

“
Shhh
.” Dafne glanced around like someone might be spying on them, even though they were in a completely remote location, doing completely boring work.

Then, Rosaline heard it. Tires against gravel. “That’s got to be them.” She shot out of her chair, rushed out of the office, and flung open the front door. She didn’t bother closing it, thinking she could justify leaving it open for Dafne. Really, it just seemed like it’d take too long to deal with, and her patience had run out, like, yesterday.

The passenger door of the Range Rover opened, and Bryson’s cane dug into the ground. Now she felt kind of silly standing at the top step waiting for him. Especially if he hadn’t missed her like she had him.

His gaze lifted to her as he got out of the vehicle, and a smile spread across his face.

She bounded down the stairs two at a time, and her arms were around him before she’d realized she was going to hug him.

His hand came up, pressing against the small of her back, and his breath hit her ear. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you missed me.”

Dizzying warmth wound through her. “I did. I missed you, and I was a little worried…” She glanced up at him, noticing the stubble covering his chin and the stark blue of his eyes.

“Worried about what?”

She shook her head. “Nothing.” Another wave of frantic energy crashed into her, and she gave him another quick squeeze. “I’m glad you’re back.”

“Hello, Rosaline,” Winslow said, tipping his head.

She stepped back, turning to face Winslow. “I was so bored without Bryson. Please tell me you’re not taking him on any more trips for a long, long time.”

Winslow heaved a couple of suitcases out of the back of the SUV. “Barring unforeseen disasters, not for a couple weeks at least.” As he walked past, suitcases in hand, he asked, “Is Dafne in the office?”

“I’m sure. You know her—she never stops working.”

“I don’t know what I’d do without her.”

Then why don’t you tell her, you idiot?

Winslow stepped inside, and Rosaline returned her attention to Bryson.

He raised an eyebrow. “First things first, did you touch the bikes?”

“Touch. Mangle. Fix.” She shrugged. “I did a little bit of it all.”

No laugh. No smile. In fact, a small worry line appeared on his forehead.

“
Hello
, did you leave your sense of humor in Minnesota? I didn’t touch the bikes. I rode Ace a couple times, then Chester got all offended, so I took him out, too.” She decided not to tell him she’d gone to the garage once and sat by the bikes, inhaling the scent that reminded her of him while reading a book. That sounded too needy.

Bryson ran a hand through his hair. “It’s just been a long day, and with you, I never know what to expect.” One side of his mouth kicked up. “That, and you’re not as funny as you think.”

With a gasp, she shoved him. “I can’t believe you said that! I’m hilarious, and you know it!”

Bryson laughed as he steadied himself, holding up a hand between them as if he were really scared of her retaliation. “You’re right. You are hilarious. And…” He twisted his backpack around, unzipped one of the pockets, and reached inside. “I brought you something. It’s nothing big. I just saw it and thought of you.”

He held out his hand, revealing a glittery pink toy cell phone. “Since you don’t have one. Now I know that this doesn’t fix your talking-to-Clara problem.” He flipped open the phone, displaying the picture of the Disney princess inside. “But now you can talk to Sleeping Beauty.”

A hundred dizzy butterflies shot through her stomach, and she thought her heart might seriously be on fire. She took the phone out of his hand. “She’s like the best princess, too. I even dressed up like her for Halloween one year.”

Rosaline pressed the buttons on the keypad. Red lights flashed across it as it played a song.

Bryson rubbed at the back of his neck, looking slightly embarrassed.

“It’s the best present I’ve ever gotten. Thank you so much.” She smiled at him, then held up a finger. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to make a quick call.”

A little blip sounded with each button she pushed. She held it to her ear. “
Psst.
Your phone’s ringing. Pick it up.”

Bryson just stared at her.

“Hurry,” she said. “Before it goes to voicemail.”

Finally, he dug into his pocket, pulled out his phone, and held it up to his ear. “Hello?” he answered, rolling his eyes.

“Hey, I rented a movie and stocked up on popcorn and candy. You down?”

A lopsided smile tugged at his lips. “Sure.”

“Awesome. I’ll be right there.” She hung up and slid her sparkly pink phone into her pocket.

His smile widened. “You’re a little crazy.”

“Yeah, but you wouldn’t have me any other way.”

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and started for the house. “I was bored without you, too.”

***

“You asleep?” Bryson asked, nudging Rosaline. Her head had wound up on his shoulder, her familiar, amazing-smelling perfume distracting him from the movie.

“Almost,” she muttered.

“You were the one who insisted we watch the second movie.”

“Well, you’re the one who chose a movie with subtitles—I didn’t expect the movie to take effort.” She sighed, and it was so cute he could hardly think straight. Were they still doing the friends thing? Was this how she was with all her guy friends? The thought made a burning knot form in his gut.

He was dying to know about her date with Sam Webster, while not wanting to know about it at all. Mostly, he wondered if his feelings were one-sided. She’d been genuinely happy to see him, he could tell that. Seeing her standing there waiting for him was the highlight of his day. And then she’d hugged him. And now her head was on his shoulder.

“Bryson?” she said on a yawn, and every inch of him ached with want.

“Yeah?”

“How’d the doctor visit go? Is everything okay?”

He tensed, not wanting to think about that. His desire cooled as he fought to shutter his feelings on what had happened at his doctor’s appointment.

She lifted her head, and the lights from the TV glowed in her eyes. “I just want to know if you’re okay. I worry that with me here, you push too hard. Maybe we shouldn’t do so much riding or—”

“I’m fine. My leg’s the same as it’s always been. We just went to find out more about artificial knees. The bullet tore through the muscle, shattered the bone, and—”

“Wait? Bullet?” She sat up the rest of the way. “You were shot? No one say anything about you being shot.”

He was about to change the subject—he never talked about that night. Then he found himself saying, “There were three guys. One had a knife. Another pulled a gun.”

“They came at you with weapons? Why?”

“It was all over…” He blew out his breath. “Something stupid.”

She reached out and squeezed his hand.

He pulled it away. “I don’t want pity. Not from anyone. Especially not from you.”

“It’s not pity. I’m just sorry it happened.”

All the bitterness that ate away at him day after day seared through him. “Well, you being sorry doesn’t change anything. I still got shot, and I still can’t walk.”

Hurt flickered through her eyes. “I just thought—”

“What? That you’d tell one of your fairytales and it would make it all go away?” His voice echoed through the room, throwing his words back at him and showing him how harsh they sounded. But she was looking at him the same way people in town did. Like he was a helpless person that needed fixed.

Rosaline stood, her expression turning from hurt to angry. “I’ve been waiting for days for you to come back. I wouldn’t have if I knew you were going to be such a jerk!”

She stormed out of the room. The front door slammed a moment later.

As he sat there, jagged breaths going in and out, the rage leaked out of him. Frustration quickly rose up to take its place. He dropped his head in his hands.
Damn it, that came out all wrong.

He tried not to feel sorry for himself, but considering the girl he was crazy about had just called him a jerk and left, it wasn’t easy.