Shiver (16 page)

Ethan and I walked hand in hand through the back door into the crowded bar. I saw Steph wave from a table smack in the middle of the room and we headed over. We exchanged greetings and hugs and the men shook hands.

“I’ll go get us some drinks,” Ethan offered after pulling out my chair and helping me sit.

“You’re such a gentleman.” I smiled up at him.

He leaned down to kiss my neck, trailing his fingers down where my open-backed T-shirt exposed my skin. “Always,” he whispered, the scruff of his five-o’clock shadow and his breath making me shiver. I watched him walk away, checking out the view of him in his dark-wash jeans and white button-down shirt. His dark, wavy hair was still damp from his shower and combed back. I was about ready to excuse us and just take him back home.

My attention was brought back to the table when a balled-up napkin hit me in the face.

“What?” I laughed.

“You two are ridiculous. I almost had an
O
just watching you. Don’t you get enough of each other every day?” Steph shook her head at me.

“Nope. Never.” Ethan grinned as he returned and settled into his chair, handing me a glass of wine.

Steph rolled her eyes and Paul laughed.

“If only you felt that way about me,” he said dramatically.

“I could never feel that way about you. You’re not that good in bed, and you don’t have any tattoos. Boring.”

I almost spit out my wine and had to take a minute with my eyes closed to swallow it down so I could laugh properly.

Paul just looked at her smugly. “That’s not what you were screaming earlier.”

He got a napkin to the face next.

The four of us were in the middle of our conversation about nothing in particular when Steph brought up Easter. It was in two weeks and the source of a little disappointment to me. I’d asked Ethan to go to Texas with me so we could spend the holiday together and he could meet my family, but he didn’t feel like he could find extra help and didn’t want to ask José to work the holiday. I totally understood, but I was still bummed.

“I can’t believe you’re not coming, Ethan,” Steph remarked. “Thompson family holidays are the best. You’re missing out.”

He gave my hand a squeeze under the table. “I wish I could. Trust me. Maybe next time with some more notice I can organize hiring someone else.”

I squeezed back and gave him a small smile. He leaned in and kissed me softly, lingering for a little longer than was publicly acceptable, his tongue darting out to tease mine, causing my stomach to flutter. We pulled apart when we heard Steph laughing loudly.

“What’s funny?” I asked, confused.

She was laughing really, really hard. “Oh my gosh. Brett just walked in the door while you two were sucking face! His expression was priceless!”

She was entirely too happy about it, but I had to admit I might have gotten a bit too much enjoyment out of it as well. I turned to look but he wasn’t there.

Steph waved her hands. “No, he left. Just turned and walked out.”

I smiled at Ethan, who had a very smug look on his face. “Serves the douche bag right.” He kissed me again swiftly. “Though I have to say, we owe him.”

I raised an eyebrow. “How do you figure?”

“Well, if he hadn’t knocked up his other girlfriend and scared your horse into dumping you, you wouldn’t have broken both of your arms, and you never would have come to work for me. It would be tragic. I, for one, am grateful.”

“Yeah, breaking my arms was totally worth it.” I pinched his side.

“You guys are really odd,” Paul muttered, shaking his head.

Chapter 20

T
wo weeks flew by and it was Wednesday, the day I was supposed to leave for Easter break. I felt bad about leaving Ethan alone for the holiday, and we also hadn’t been apart in months. The thought of sleeping multiple nights without him hurt my heart. But I was looking forward to seeing my family. I planned to work all day though, and Steph’s and my flight would leave late at night.

The past weeks had been crazy busy. The young horses were going so well that they started training on the same schedule as the adult horses, just for much less time since their bodies were still developing. Whitney had been nothing but a pain in the ass. Snarky to me whenever Ethan wasn’t looking and downright rude in her lessons. She also never actually uttered a word to José and referred to him as “the helper.” She flirted shamelessly with Ethan at every opportunity. I knew she hadn’t realized we were together simply because we never announced it and she was only around for an hour each day, usually with just one of us. It was still irritating and raised my hackles, but I tried to shrug it off. I was maybe a little more annoyed that Ethan didn’t set her straight.

That particular day, I would be riding while he taught her, and then we planned on finishing up a few hours early so we could hang out before I left. I was actually taking an entire week off since I hadn’t been home since Christmas and Steph had a break from school.

I was up at the ring, riding one of our fancier horses and having an absolute ball. She was a big, beautiful, dark bay show jumper, but that day we were working on the flat, making sure she was fit and limber and responsive to my aids. She’d been rehabbed with us over the winter, and we’d been legging her up to return to competition in the fall. As I cantered around the far corner of the ring, Whitney rode in on Ben, spooking the spirited mare, making her stop lightning fast and wheel around. Fortunately she didn’t unseat me, because I’d pretty much rather break my arms again than fall off around this witch. I gave Rochelle a pat on the neck to soothe her as Ethan walked in, his eyes zeroing in on my snorting animal.

“Oops. Sorry,” Whitney said with zero sincerity. “Ethan told me to call out before I got to the gate, but I guess I forgot.”

I smiled sweetly back. “That’s all right, Whitney. Sometimes it’s hard to remember everything when you’re just learning to ride. I can handle it.”

Ethan threw me a warning look and mouthed, “Twenty-five percent.”

I narrowed my eyes and asked Rochelle to canter from a standstill so we could continue our workout. I felt Ethan’s gaze on me as we smoothly performed different movements. I was probably showing off a little, but also the mare kicked ass and it was so much fun. Part of my attention was on Whitney’s lesson, though, because I was curious as to how she acted when Ethan was teaching her. I hadn’t been in the ring before while they’d been working. I heard Ethan giving instructions and her kind of, sort of, trying, but then she would quickly get tired and stop intermittently to start chatting with him.

When Rochelle had had enough, I hopped down in the center of the arena and ran up my stirrups, loosening my girth and stroking her face. Ethan was standing closer to the gate where Whitney was taking yet another break.

As I walked closer, I heard her ask, “So, have you decided to join us for Easter?”

And I stopped in my tracks, glaring at Ethan, my jaw clenching in agitation. He caught my eye and I swear he went a little pale. I just rolled my eyes and walked back to the barn. I heard him excuse himself from Whitney to jog after me. Grabbing my elbow, he spun me around.

“What the fuck, Ethan?”

He sighed, running his hands through his hair. “Lissa, I’m not going to Easter with Whitney. She asked and I just gave her a vague answer so I didn’t hurt her feelings. It’s not a big deal.”

I nodded quietly for a minute. “But you didn’t tell me. Why not?”

“’Cause I knew you’d be pissed. You already get all weird about her. She’s a client. Nothing more.”

“I know that. You know that. She does not know that.”

He shook his head. “What are you talking about?”

I poked a finger into his chest. “You have not once set her straight about us or taken yourself off the market. Your burning desire to not hurt her feelings… it hurts
my
feelings, Ethan. You claim to love me, you introduce me to your mother, you defend me to your father, and you haven’t once stood up for me around your client. I get that business and personal should be kept separate. I really do, and I’ve not made an issue out of it. But the fact is, we clearly crossed that line already. And if you’re so ‘all in,’”—I dramatically made the quote gesture with my fingers—“then why haven’t you made it clear? You barely acknowledge me in her presence.”

He had his hands on his hips, staring down at me with a fierce expression. Eyes narrowed, jaw clenching, lips pursed and hard. It was not the look he usually gave me, and my heart sank.

“I can’t have our relationship affecting the business, Lissa. There’s no reason it needs to. She’s here for one hour a day.”

I looked down at our booted feet opposite each other and spoke softly. “Here at the barn, when we’re not alone, I feel like your dirty secret. I feel… I feel the way your father wanted me to feel.” I looked up to his pained eyes, but he didn’t say anything. So I turned and walked back to the barn.

I untacked Rochelle myself, brushing her off in the stall. It was typically therapeutic, but it wasn’t working that day. So I walked up to the house, the house that I was almost moved into with a boyfriend I was suddenly not as sure of. Charlie trotted beside me, and we walked through the door to where I snuggled next to her on the floor, sniffling pathetically. Ugh, that stupid twenty-five percent girly side was out in full force, and I wanted to crawl in a hole. Instead, I pulled myself to my feet to hop in the shower. I packed my suitcase for my trip and left a note for Ethan, telling him I’d call him later. Pulling out my phone, I texted Steph.

Hey, wanna catch an earlier flight?

We touched down in Dallas. Steph had listened to my stupid, sobby, girly fucking rant for the entire flight and had done nothing but support me like a best friend should. She was all kinds of fired up and apparently ready to nut-punch Ethan and possibly deliver a swift vag-kick to Whitney. I noted in my mind that she should probably not visit the barn anytime soon.

I didn’t power my phone on when we arrived. Part of me just wanted to ignore the whole day, and the other part wanted to prove a point. I knew it was childish. Don’t judge. I wasn’t thinking this was the end of us; I just needed time to process our first real fight and see how he reacted to it. He said he wanted a future with me, but his mom’s words came back to me. She said not to let him push me away, and I wondered if that’s what he’d been doing, maybe without even realizing it.

We traipsed to the baggage carousel and grabbed our suitcases before heading out to curbside. I was surprised to see that my mom wasn’t right there as usual but then remembered I had never turned my phone on and should probably check it. Before I could, Steph’s ringtone blared from her back pocket.

“Hi, Wendy,” she answered, eyes flicking to me right as I realized it was my mom calling her. “Oh my God. Yes… yes… okay. We’ll be right there.” She turned to me, eyes wide. “We need to get a cab to the hospital. Your brother’s been in an accident.”

“What?” I gasped. “What happened? Is he okay?”

“I don’t know. She just said to get to Parkland right away.”

We hailed a taxi and threw our bags inside, directing the cab to go as fast as possible. I didn’t give another thought to Ethan, the mess back home, or my phone.

We clambered out of the cab at the emergency room entrance and dragged our bags inside. The front desk allowed us to leave our bags there and directed us up to ICU. We skidded into the waiting room to see my family and some of Patrick’s friends waiting there stoically.

I reached my mom to hug her first. “Mom, what’s going on?”

She held my face in her hands. “We don’t know yet. He was hit by a drunk driver. At noon! The other car hit him right at the driver-side door. It was…” She took a deep breath. “The paramedics found him pushed into the passenger side. He hasn’t regained consciousness yet, and they’re running tests to see what needs to be done. There was internal bleeding, which they’ve fixed. His spine is okay, which is good. But his head… They just don’t know the damage to his head.”

I hugged her tight as we both cried quietly. I saw Steph doing the same with my dad, and I said a strong and silent prayer that Patrick would be all right. He’d recover quickly and be back with us for Easter.

We all spent the next hours telling funny Patrick stories. Annie talked of terrorizing him when he was young, and I remembered him terrorizing me. His friends told completely inappropriate stories for my parents to hear, but we all laughed and enjoyed it anyway.

It seemed like days later when a doctor walked out in his white lab coat, an expressionless mask on his face.

My parents stood and walked toward him. We all strained to hear but could only make out muffled noises and hand gestures. Mom and Dad walked hand in hand back to our group.

Dad looked over the crowd. “He’s still unconscious, which worries them but isn’t altogether uncommon. He’s broken numerous bones that they’ve reset or pinned. But there’s fortunately no serious internal damage. We’ll know more when he wakes up, but that may not happen for a few days. He may have some memory loss or other difficulties, depending on damage to his brain that they can’t ascertain yet, but barring any other complications, he is alive and should recover.”

There was a collective sigh of relief, but I restrained myself from feeling it. I wouldn’t feel it until he was awake and talking and walking his ass out of here. I’d been in the hospital too many times myself, seen my friends there, watched horses go… to only listen to the surface of what a physician says. In my mind, I’d wait to see what happened before my hopes went either direction.

My family took turns going to see him, but I didn’t. Steph and his other friends stole a quick visit, but I sat. When most everyone started to leave to go home for the night, I stayed in my same chair.

I barely noticed when my mom and Steph sat beside me.

“Sweetheart,” my mom said. “Why don’t you go on and get some rest? Your father and I will stay.”

I snapped out of my funk enough to say, “No, Mom. You guys go sleep. He’s probably not going to wake up tonight anyway. He’s always been late to everything.” I smiled a little through my sadness. “How about I stay tonight and y’all come first thing in the morning? He’s going to be fine.”

She nodded, sniffling a bit. “He is, Lissa. You heard what the doctor said. His brain needs time to heal, but there’s no reason he shouldn’t make a full recovery. He just needs time.”

I stared at the floor, then pasted a smile to my face. “Go get some rest, Mom. We’ll see you in the morning.” I nodded to Steph to watch after my parents, knowing she would handle them. She stood, linking arms with my mom and walking out the automatic doors, leaving me alone.

I sat quietly for a long while before I stood and walked to the nurse’s station. I stated my name and relationship to Patrick before they allowed me back to his room. A kind, older nurse set me up with a pillow and blanket, and I curled into the reclining chair next to his bed. The beeps and whooshes of the machines took turns lulling me to sleep and waking me up. I tossed and turned and fidgeted endlessly, but I was still glad to be there for my brother. I didn’t have a family like Annie did who needed me all night, and my parents didn’t need the stress. There wasn’t much I could do for him except lie there. I could go a long time without sleep and without comfort anyway.

I had finally drifted into a deep, dreamless, neck-cramping sleep when I heard a voice beside me. My eyes opened, but I didn’t move.

“Hey, brat,” Patrick said with a raspy voice.

I bolted into an upright position. “Patrick!”

He laughed groggily. “Yeah, what the fuck happened?”

“Hang on. Let me get a nurse.” I fumbled with the call buttons until the speaker beeped and someone came on the line for me to give an update to. Within seconds, a nurse rushed in.

“Mr. Thompson, glad to see you awake,” a large Jamaican woman called out. She bustled in and fussed over him, checking his vitals and asking him questions. “We didn’t think we’d see the whites of your eyes for some time now.”

I nodded in agreement. “Seriously, Patrick. You know Mom and Dad would have been here, but I told them to go home and get some rest tonight.”

“It’s fine,” he whispered gruffly. “The quiet is nice. Don’t call them yet.” He rested his head back on the pillows and closed his eyes.

“Best not to stress him yet, ma’am,” the nurse said to me. “He’s been through an ordeal and needs to heal in his own time.” She patted my arm. “He’s gonna be just fine. You’re a good sister. Try to get some rest yourself now. I imagine he’ll be in and out all night with the amount of painkillers he’s getting.” She moved out into the hallway. “The doctor will be by soon.”

I shuffled over to Patrick in my socks to push the hair from his face. They’d done a pretty good job cleaning him off, but there were still cuts and abrasions littered over and around his cheeks and eyes. I studied each one, marveling over the healing process and what our bodies were capable of getting through. I was used to being the one in Patrick’s position. I’ve lain in a scratchy, hot, unforgiving hospital bed with family and friends around me, concerned looks on their faces, and rolled my eyes, feeling like everyone was overreacting. Suddenly my perspective was different as I looked down at my brother, who never did anything dangerous or questionable. Our lives were so fleeting, so out of our power.

I realized with a start that I hadn’t turned my phone on since the previous afternoon and Ethan was probably frantic. Our argument from the day before seemed supremely stupid and immature, and I wanted nothing more than to erase it entirely.

I dug in my pockets for my phone before remembering that it was in my carry-on at the front desk. It was highly likely Steph had taken it back to my parents’ with her or it was still sitting several floors down. Resigned to wait, I laid my head back down on my pillow.