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I stifle a laugh, shocked that Tabby just called someone a pussy.

“You’re right,” Noah says to Tab. “I should’ve stopped him before he started pawing Jules.”

“No,” Tabby shakes her head. “We’re big girls, guys. It’s our job to take care of ourselves and each other. So stop the caveman act. Jules is going to be just fine, there are orthopedic surgeons who specialize in this kind of thing, right? She’s going to be good as new.”

But then Tabby’s tears start to flow.

A new accident, but once again, everyone is taking on the guilt.

Jules stirs and lets out a whimper that nearly breaks my heart. I can’t say a word.

Tabby leans over to place her hand on Jules’ cheek. “You broke your hand, hon. We’re taking you to the hospital now. Only a few more minutes and then we’ll get you the best pain meds known to man. Just a few more minutes, I promise.”

Jules nods and bites on my shirt. Even now, she is the toughest person I know. Biting down on her pain and hiding it from everyone.

“I know, baby,” I whisper in her hair. “I know.”

Noah drops us at the ER and I carry her in, resting in a chair while Tabby checks us in. It only takes a few minutes before a pregnant nurse with a warm smile is at my side with a wheelchair.

“Let’s move her here,” the nurse says to me.

“Okay.” I stand and cradle Jules, lowering her into the wheelchair.

“How are you doing there, sweetheart?” The nurse bends over to look Jules in the eyes.

“Hanging in there,” Jules says with a clenched jaw. She is in so much pain. At my hands, once again.

“Nice work on the sling,” the nurse says to me with a nod. “Okay, guys. I’m going to take her now and get her arm x-rayed. Someone will come back to talk to you once we know what we’re dealing with.”

I nod and move to Jules to plant a kiss on her head. “I’m so sorry,” I whisper in her ear before the nurse rolls her away.

“One second,” Jules says to the nurse, while reaching out for me with her good hand. “Hey,” she says in her most serious and stern voice. “This is not on you. Yes, you are a Neanderthal, but this is not your fault.” She looks up to meet my eyes. “Got it?”

I nod as she rolls away from me—taking a huge piece of my heart with her.

The whole scene takes me back to that night freshman year. Jules, Noah, and I all made it back here after Jenna and Ben crashed. Sure, I liked to party at the time, but I never would’ve tried to ditch Jules for weed. Never. That’s not why I left. It was Jenna I was trying to steer clear of—and everyone suffered because of it.

I just couldn’t be close to Jenna—or Jules—that night, the guilt was killing me. So I ran; my typical M.O. Jenna’s little brother died because I’m a pussy and couldn’t face up to my shit.

My stomach turns thinking about it.

After I abandoned them, Ben volunteered to drive Jenna and Jules home. He wasn’t shit-faced or anything, but he’d been drinking plenty. And it was raining.

Ben took a corner too fast. Apparently he yanked the steering wheel back the other way. It was too much; he overcorrected. They slid off the road. Hit a tree. Totaled the car.

Thank God Jules didn’t ride with them.

Ben was a good egg. He wasn’t anything like Jenna. He was a senior in high school, smart, good-looking, and a genuinely nice guy. Of course, Jenna didn’t deserve what happened either. She was hurt pretty bad. In the hospital for more than a month. Jules and I both tried to comfort her, but she didn’t want anything from us. Noah was the only person she let visit.

And after that, we all dealt in our own separate ways.

~~~

We wait about an hour in the ER before a doctor comes out into the waiting room.

“Julia Taylor’s family,” the doc calls out.

Tabby and I bolt up and almost sprint to the man. Noah runs to catch up and stands behind Tab. We look at him with grim faces and he chuckles a little.

“Stop,” he tells us. “No need to be so morose. Julia, I mean Jules, is going to be just fine.”

That’s a good sign. She must be doing somewhat okay if she already schooled the doctor on her name. Tabby and I let out a very vocal exhale and this time the doc’s laugh echoes through the room.

“Yes,” he says, patting me on the arm. “I take it you’re the boyfriend.”

I nod because I wish it were true. It feels like it’s true. Noah’s eyes narrow, but I just shrug him off.

“So,” the doc continues, “it was a clean break. No surgery needed and I don’t foresee any future problems. We’re putting her arm in a plaster cast, which she is not happy about, I might add.” He smiles and shakes his head. “Feisty one, that Jules. Two weeks in the cast. Frankly, I’m worried we won’t be able to keep it on her that long. Then a sling and a splint for the next four to six weeks. She’ll be good as new by the end of the summer.”

“What about pain?” I ask.

“She’s feeling pretty good now and we’ll send her home with Vicodin. If it bothers her stomach, she can take it with food or milk. Tonight, tomorrow, keep her heavily medicated or she will be in quite a bit of pain. Then she can start cutting back. Will one of you be with her?”

“Yes,” Tab and I answer in unison.

“Okay, good.” He nods. “She’s going to need some help the next few weeks with that cast. Getting dressed—the bra and buttons are going to be impossible for her to do on her own. Plus, it is her right hand. Making meals, doors, that type of thing will also be hard for her at first. After the cast comes off, she’ll be able to start using the hand little by little. And by then, she’ll become quite adept working with one hand. But the next two weeks are going to be tough.”

Tabby looks to Noah. “I’ll cancel my trip home,” she says.

That’s right, she planned on going home on Sunday. Well, Jules would not be happy with her changing her plans. Not at all.

“No,” I tell her. “I’ll stay with her.”

“Foster.” Tabby laughs. “Do you really think Jules is going to want you dressing her—clasping her bra? Zipping her jeans?”

“Maybe not at first,” I tell her.

Noah’s eyes narrow, giving me a silent warning.

“Look,” I say directly to him. “This situation isn’t ideal, but she needs my help. She’ll never let you stay home, Tabby. You know that. She’ll send you on your way and then she’ll be stuck alone, struggling.”

“Yes,” Tabby agrees. “That does sound like her, but it will be no better with you.”

“I won’t give her a choice. I can move in for two weeks. Just until you get home. Her law firm, what is it? Dicks and Dildos?”

“Dildos and Dicks.” Tabby laughs. “Get it straight, will you?”

“It’s close to my internship.”

“Your internship?” Noah questions.

Forever the reporter.

“Yes, you’re not the only one with plans, asshole.”

“And where, pray tell, are you interning?” he asks.

“That new bistro in Uptown. It’s actually a business internship, but I offered my cooking services as well and Chef Paul took it.”

Noah’s impressed, I can tell. I know that guy like a brother. Of course he’s not going to let on. Still, I have to say it feels good to impress him for a change.

“Anyway,” I stretch out the word, “I’m not due in until ten each morning. I can get Jules downtown to Douche and Douchier and still make it to the restaurant. Then I’m off after the lunch rush. Plenty of time to pick her up. I’ll be subbing in for a few dinners too, but I can have her taken care of before I leave. Make her dinner, get her settled. Let me do this.”

Of course Tab thinks I’m asking her, but Noah understands the question is to him.

“Sounds like you have it all worked out,” Noah says, a little apprehensive.

“Yeah, we’ve been here a while. Plenty of time to think.”

“I’m not sure what she’ll think,” Tabby says.

“We tell her slowly,” I add. “Preferably after she’s had a good dose of meds.”

“Okay.” Tabby smiles now. “But if she has any issues with this, Foster, I’m canceling my trip.”

We both know that isn’t going to happen.

Jules

As I reach the door, Foster grabs my hand to stop me. He takes that hand and places it on his chest and I feel his heart. I always feel it, but this time mine joins its steady beat.

Thud-a-dom, thud-a-dom.

His eyes turn my favorite shade of amber. Glowing for me. I open my mouth to tell him that I’m glad he’s back. I’m happy that empty shell is gone, but he interrupts my thoughts with the softest of kisses.

“I meant it, you know,” he says.

“Meant what?” I ask.

“That we could start over. We could try again,” he says before capturing my mouth again.

“Jules,” a woman’s voice interrupts. “Jules.”

“Mmm.” I wake up with the yummy taste of Foster on my lips.

I shift and realize I’m not in my bed. Soft velvet grazes the side of my cheek and I slowly open my eyes to the glare of sun in Tabby’s place.
Our place.
I’m covered in soft chenille blankets and down pillows. My arm is propped up by two of them.

That’s right—the fall, my wrist, the hospital, those glorious pain meds.

“Hey, sleepy lady.” Tabby comes into vision. “How are you feeling?”

I take a moment to assess my body. I’m a little stiff, a little groggy, but not too bad.

“Okay, I think.”

“Any pain?”

I tighten up at the mention of pain and look down at my casted arm. It doesn’t hurt, per se. But there’s a ghost of a wicked ache that could spell trouble.

“That’s what I thought,” Tab says, walking over with a tray holding a bottle of meds, a half-glass of milk and some soda crackers. “Here,” she adds placing two white pills in front of me. “Let’s start with this, and if all goes well, Foster made some of his famous chicken and tortellini soup for you.”

I put the pills on my tongue and wash them down with the milk. I break the cracker into four pieces and let them dissolve in my mouth one piece at a time.

“So.” Tabby scoots next to me on the couch. “Quite a night, huh?”

“Yeah, what I remember of it anyway. Did that dumbass Viking really take me down with him when Foster put a fist in his face?”

“Yep.” Tabby shivers. “I was so scared for you, Jules. You passed out almost instantly, and once I saw your wrist, I almost did the same thing. Not Foster, though. He was at your side in a second, using bar towels to make a sling for your arm. It was something.”

“How’s he doing?” I ask. Of course I’m not happy with his crazy behavior, but if I’m being honest, those instincts of his—to protect and take care of me—well, it feels damn good. Especially after all that’s happened this past year.

“He’s okay,” Tabby answers. “But he feels like shit. He stayed with you all night. I had to kick him out this morning, but he was back in an hour to check on you and deliver the soup.

“Wait, this morning?” I try to grasp the series of events and the time. “What time is it?”

“It’s five p.m.,” Tabby says, rubbing my leg. “Your poor little body has been through a lot. Do you remember what the doctor said about your injury and recovery?”

“Yeah, yeah.” I flip the wrist of my good hand. “Cast for two weeks, splint for four, good to go by the end of the summer.”

I stop for a moment, feeling as if I’m forgetting something. What is it—five o’clock Saturday night?

It hits me.

Tabby’s last night with Noah before she goes home—he had me help plan their last night together before she leaves. A picnic and concert in the park, and it should be starting now.

“Hey,” I almost yell. “You are going to be late! And why in the hell are you wearing yoga pants? This is your special date night with the man. Go get your sexy on.”

“Well, that didn’t take long.” Tabby laughs. “Foster said you’d wake up trying to kick me out of the house.”

“For once he’s right. Go on. Scat. Go to Noah.”

“I’m not going, Jules.”

“What? Why not?”

“Because my best friend is injured and she needs me. I may not even be going home. I think I should wait until you’re back on your feet.”

Now I sit up, trying to ignore the spinning room. “No way, T. No effing way. You’re not ruining your vacation and your night with Noah for me.” I take a breath and add, “I’m fine,” before falling back on my pillow.

“Right,” Tabby says. “You can’t be alone, Jules.”

“Ugghhh,” I yell, frustrated. I know she’s not going to leave and she needs this trip. She needs time with her family. They’re in the middle of relationship repair and she needs to get through this. It’s important.

“There’s only one other option,” Tabby says with traces of a mischievous grin.

I raise my eyebrows.

“Foster said he’d stay.”

“Well, there you go. That’ll work,” I say before thinking it through.

“Only if you’re comfortable. He said he’d move in for the two weeks I’m gone. Then the cast will come off and you’ll have better use of your arm.”