No Pink Caddy (ACE Book 1) (35 page)

We walk in silence for a bit while I turn Nyall’s words over in my head. Tripp has been a part of my life for as long as Bella has. The thought of not being friends with him is like considering cutting off an arm. Yes, I wish he didn’t have feelings for me, but I can’t help that. Should it be a reason to not hang out with someone who is like a brother? Although I don’t want to rub Tripp’s nose in my new relationship. It’s so hard knowing what’s the right thing to do.

That’s what I want. I want to make sure I do right by Tripp while making it clear I’m not interested in anything more than just a friendship. I’ll have to watch myself very carefully. I can no longer be affectionate with him, and he’s no longer my fallback date. Hopefully, Aaron gets the honor title of escort.

My phone dings again.

Tripp:
Spades at Eddy’s? It will be fun . . .

I read it to Nyall and Bella. Bella says, “We haven’t had a game night in ages.”

Nyall shrugs. I know he’ll do whatever Bella agrees to.

“Let’s do it!” I declare. “Just four friends hanging out at our favorite local bar.” I don’t add and Aaron will not be present so it will be easier on him.

Nyall shakes his head, but I ignore him and text Tripp back.

Me:
Meet us there at 8.

Bella loops her arm through Nyall’s. “MK isn’t leading him on. Tripp knows how she feels. Even when they dated, it was more like friends hanging out. Really, it’s okay.”

“Not my business,” he replies, holding up an arm as if he’s surrendering.

Nyall and Bella live on the next block over. They ensure I make it safely inside the carriage house and then head to their place.

Once inside, I do something that I rarely do. Falling into my fluffy armchair, I grab my aqua wool blanket and wrap myself in it. The carriage house is silent and gradually, as the sun disappears, my living room grows darker and darker.

I reflect back on the tornado of a relationship I’m in. Aaron is great. I enjoy being with him, but my time with him is constant highs and lows. He’s needy. He’s an addict. He’s surrounded by people who depend on him. What I’m beginning to see is being with Aaron means he will always come first—his addiction, his demands, his career. Can I put myself second for the rest of my life?

No.

As my living room fades to darkness, a sick feeling settles in my gut. I know without a doubt I can’t spend the rest of my life like I’ve spent the last couple of days. I can’t live in fear that if I don’t conform to his every whim that he’ll use. NoPinkCaddy is my baby. This is my chance to really turn my hobby into a career. Aaron has got to give me the space to do that.

I’m not willing to quit on us. We will have to find a balance that works.

At some point, I must fall asleep. It’s really no wonder—late nights, surprise rock star performances, the stress of quitting my job . . . The sleep I find is dreamless and deep.

There’s a loud pounding on my door. Immediately, I fly to my feet, completely discombobulated. The blanket slips to the floor, tangling around my ankles. As I shift my momentum forward to make the banging stop, my feet stay planted and I tumble towards the ground. My hands go out, reaching for something to prevent my fall, but unfortunately they don’t stop me from catching the corner of my eye on the coffee table. Crying out in pain, I lie on the floor, holding my head while tears pour from my eyes.

The pounding on my door continues.

I yell out, “just a minute,” through a choked throat.

There’s so much water. I cried a lot more than I’d thought.

Flipping over to my hands and knees, I crawl to the front door with a dizzy, foggy head. Somehow, I manage to sit back on my calves while I lunge for the knob. The door flies open revealing two very worried faces. “Oh my God. You’re bleeding.” Bella grabs me under my arms, lifting me to my feet, and walks me over to the sink.

Nyall and Bella work like a perfectly oiled machine. Nyall flips on lights while Bella grabs a towel and starts playing doctor.

“How did this happen?” she asks as she dabs at my left eye.

“I don’t know . . .” I mumble. I do know. I just can’t find the words to tell her.

“What do you mean, you don’t know?” Bella says, and motions towards Nyall. A few seconds later, a wet towel is placed on my face.

“I mean the blanket . . . fell . . . tumbled . . .”

“Are you drunk?”

“No.”

She gestures towards Nyall and he takes Bella’s place, holding the dry towel now to my head. “You have a nasty gash. You need stitches and probably a check to make sure you don’t have a concussion.”

She pauses while she hits a number. The phone rings. “Good evening, Bethany, it’s Bella,” she says into the phone. “MK hit her head on the coffee table—I think. And needs to be seen by a doctor. Who do you recommend?”

There’s silence on the other end.

“No. No need to come. I think she just needs stitches and a check to make sure her brain isn’t more screwed up than normal.”

I think I roll my eyes, but I’m not sure. I begin to feel a bit woozy and lean against the counter, hoping it can take some of my weight.

“Thanks Bethany. We’ll bring her. I’ll keep you updated.” Bella ends the call and then looks at Nyall. “Go get the car.”

There’s blood all over my top so without me asking, Bella disappears into my bedroom. Moments later, she emerges with my super soft purple LSU sweatshirt. She unbuttons my beautiful silk, white blouse, which is probably now ruined, and helps me work the sweatshirt over my head while still putting pressure on the wound.

“Thank you,” I reply.

“For what? Being a friend. Please.” Her phone dings, and she grabs it. “Oh. That’s Tripp, looking for us.”

She texts him something, scowls, and mashes on her phone. I think the phone rings because Bella is talking, but none of it really makes sense. “There’s no reason to come. She’s okay. She just needs stitches.”

There’s a pause.

“Fine. We aren’t waiting for you.”

She shoves her phone in her jacket pocket. “He’s insisting on coming.”

“Great.” I sigh as the room tilts on its side. “I need to sit down.”

Bella helps me to my kitchen stool. My stomach roils and my head pounds. Before I can ask for a garbage can, I vomit all over my hardwood floors.

Bella reaches under the kitchen sink and grabs a plastic bag. Each time I retch, my head pounds more. God, I just want to die.

Nyall opens my front door in the middle of the chaos and sighs. “Maybe we need an ambulance.”

I wave him off. “No need. I’m okay.”

Tripp walks in behind Nyall and sees Bella holding a towel to my head while I gag into a bag. He whips out his phone and calls nine-one-one.

My head is so cloudy. I want to protest, but I’ve given up at this point. I want everyone to leave so I can just go to sleep. I was resting so nicely until Bella and Nyall disturbed me.

Tripp picks me up and cradles me against his chest. He does it so gently I barely notice that I’m being lifted. “It’s okay, MK,” he soothes as he kisses my forehead. “I’m going to make sure you’re taken care of.”

The scream of the sirens grows louder as Nyall races out of my house to greet them. I look up into Tripp’s dark eyes which are crinkled with concern. He pulls me tighter to him and moves the hair out of my eyes. The last thing I remember is Tripp asking Bella to get him a clip or something to keep my hair out of the blood.

It’s dark. I know I should wake up, but I don’t want to. Someone is rubbing my leg. It gives me the sensation that I’m sliding down the yellow slide at my elementary school. I don’t want them to stop.

There are voices around me. “Why the fuck didn’t you call me?” a loud one yells.

My head throbs and just the amount of light seeping through my eyelids is too much. I want to turn away from it, but my neck doesn’t allow me.

“Thank God I have Find My Friends on her phone, or I wouldn’t have fucking known,” the loud raspy voice adds.

Another male voice says, “We took care of her just fine. Just the way we’ve been taking care of her since she was eight years old.”

There are some scuffling noises.

“Back off, rock boy.”

A third male voice says, “I’ll call security. Now calm down so I can examine MK.”

The scuffling noises end. I go back into the blackness.

It’s so quiet here.

“MK, it’s Doctor Jared Simpson from Eddy’s. You have a lot of people worried about you. Can you open your eyes?”

I don’t want to. I want the blackness. I think it’s my new bliss. The bright light is bad, and my brain thinks we should go back to sleep.

“Look, MK, if you’ll open your eyes and let me examine you, I’ll turn off the lights.”

An incentive. That works for me.

The first male voice says, “Come on, MK. I’m so scared. Please open your eyes, sweetheart.”

That’s Aaron.

My eyelids feel like they weigh a ton. I mean, I try my damnedest to open them, and I think I crack them a bit because Aaron says, “Just a little wider so you can be checked.”

It takes all my might but I get them open and when I do, I wish they were closed again. It’s too bright. Aaron is on one side of me, and Tripp and Doctor Jared are on the other. Aaron has the deep
V
between his eyes, and he’s holding my hand like I might disappear.

Tripp is holding my other hand and staring at me. His lips are thin, and he doesn’t look like his usual pulled together self. He’s dirty, as if he’s been playing in mud. Tripp needs a shower and clean clothes.

I’m sure if I didn’t feel like death, this might be actually funny. On my right side is a rock star who looks and acts the part. Fireworks. Every day with him is like New Year’s Eve. Then there’s Tripp. He’s my childhood friend. He looks like he could model for a J. Crew catalog. I swear he owns shorts that have embroidered alligators on them. He’s sophisticated and refined. He knows which fork to use at dinner. And he loves me, but there’s not even an ember between us. He’s my practical. Aaron is my wild.

Doctor Jared says, “Hi there, MK. We’ve missed those pretty brown eyes.” Both Tripp and Aaron give him a look which says if they could inflict pain upon his manhood, they would. “Can you tell me what happened?”

I try to speak but my throat feels as if it’s been cut with glass. “Water,” I manage to squeeze out.

“Not quite yet,” Doctor Jared says with a scowl. “You have a concussion and a pretty big gash on the side of your face. A plastic surgeon stitched you up, and you should be as good as new. However, we need to keep you here for a bit to make sure your brain is okay. Do you remember how the accident happened?”

I think about it for a moment and remember trying to let Bella know I was okay. “Not really.”

“Your friends think you fell and hit your head on your coffee table.”

“Maybe,” I croak.

“Well, after that, you lost consciousness. As a doctor, we find that pretty scary.”

“Okay,” I reply as a nurse who I didn’t realize was in the room dims the lights and then raises the back of my bed. She hands me a cup of water with a straw. I take the first sip, and it’s like the best thing I’ve ever had in my mouth. As it slides down my throat, it extinguishes the burn. “Thank you.”

“Do you want more?” she asks.

“Yes.” I take another sip, and it’s almost as good as the first.

“I can help her,” Aaron says.

“She can’t have too much,” the nurse warns as she smiles at him warmly.

“Moderation.” He winks. Aaron looks across the bed at Tripp. “She’s awake. You can go now.”

“MK,” Tripp says. I turn my head towards him, which takes all of my strength. “You scared me. I walked into your place and you were bloody, and sick and so pale. Do you remember me taking care of you?”

I don’t remember it at all. “Thank you, Tripp. You’re such a good friend.”

Then, I say to the room, “I’m tired. I want to go back to sleep.”

Doctor Jared rests his hand on my calf. “I’ll be back in a bit.”

An hour later, a different nurse wakes me up. “Mary Kay,” the sweet voice calls.

Opening my eyes, I see a pretty, petite blonde looking in my eyes. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I should be sleeping.”

“I’ll check you in an hour.”

This repeats itself every hour for I don’t know how long. I want to cry every time I hear my name. Sleep. Sleep is what my body is telling me I need.

“Mary Kay,” a different voice calls.

I open my eyes to see a male nurse with dark brown hair, skin, and eyes. “How are you?”

“Actually, I feel better,” I reply as my eyes finally stay open long enough to look around the room. Aaron sits in a chair next to the right side of my bed. His head rests on the mattress next to my thigh. Then, I look towards the corner, and Tripp is stretched out in a chair with his head back against the wall.

I’m so confused. “What happened?” I ask the nurse as he checks my vital signs. “My head’s pounding, and my face feels funny.”

“Says in your chart you suffered a concussion and face laceration.”

Reaching up, I realize I have an IV in my arm. Using my other hand, I run my fingers over gauzy-feeling bandages. “Am I okay?”

Nothing is clear to me. I remember shopping with Jude and Aaron. Then we met Bella and Nyall. I know I was walking home with them, and we made plans to play cards with Tripp. Everything after that is a blur, like I can’t see through a foggy morning.

My heart races and I begin to panic. I don’t remember anything. Am I okay? Did someone hurt me? Did I hurt myself? “Aaron.” I repeatedly tap his shoulder blade. “Aaron, wake up.”

His head pops up, and he whips around as if he’s ready to fight. “What’s wrong?” he asks as he stands and places his hands on my shoulders. His features are tight, and his pouty lips turn downward. Under his eyes are smudges of purple.

“I don’t know why I’m here,” I cry. My heart races. “I’m in a hospital, and I shouldn’t be.”

Tripp is by the other side of my bed in a flash. The nurse stands at the foot. “You have a concussion. It’s very common to suffer from a bit of amnesia around the event. You may remember it one day. You may not. But this is perfectly normal.”