“I’ll drive.”
My head whips to the side as Coy comes through the gate. He's wearing jeans with no holes and a gray sweater. His hands are shoved into his pockets as he watches me warily.
“What?” I ask.
“I’ll drive.” He stops in front of me, smelling like leather. He holds his hands out. “Keys, please.”
My bottom lip quivers as I hold on to the key ring.
Coy’s breath billows in front of him.
I want to launch myself in his arms and wind my fingers in the fabric of his sweater and have the cry I’ll need to put off until later. But I don’t do any of that because I’m not sure why he’s here.
“I have to take my dad to the doctor,” I tell him.
He smiles. “I know. And I said I’ll drive.”
A wave of emotions rushes over me like a tsunami. My throat squeezes shut as tears pool in my eyes.
He leans forward and looks me in the eye. “Unless your dad objects, I’m going, too.”
I shake my head. I’m afraid to speak because my tears will certainly fall.
“I’m fine,” I say, my voice thick with emotion.
“You are fine. And I’ll make sure of it.” He pulls me into a quick hug. “But if you don’t start sharing shit with me …” He leans back and wipes a tear off my cheek. “This makes you nervous, doesn’t it?”
I nod.
“Why?”
I shrug. “I don’t want to get used to it.”
He touches my lips lightly with his. “Get used to it.”
He snatches the keys from my hand and grins.
“How did you know?” I ask as he opens the back door.
“I heard you mention it at dinner, and you acted weird about it, so I figured it was important. You wouldn’t take the bait last night and tell me, so I got up super early and got ready and waited for you to walk outside. Then I ran over.”
My heart fills with so much … love, that I think it might burst.
I’m in trouble here. I’m in deep. Because, whether I want to admit it or not, I’m already used to this.
I just have to pray that I don’t lose him somehow.
My gaze switches to my dad in the front seat.
I have to pray I don’t lose him either.
Coy ducks his head in the car. “Hey, Joe. Good morning.”
“Morning, Coy,” he says, smiling as he still tries to catch his breath.
“Care if I drive you this morning? I can wait in the car while you two go in if you want. I just want to be there to help out however you need me.”
Dad is as pleased as a peacock, although I do see him quickly wipe under his eye, and that nearly causes a sob to leave my chest. “I’d like that very much.”
“Good. It’s done then,” Coy says. “Get in, please, Bells, so we can get on the road.”
There are a million things I want to say. A hundred more things I want to do. But I climb into the back seat instead because that’s what I have to do.
Before Coy closes the door, I hold up a hand. He looks at me with his brows pulled together.
“Thank you,” I tell him softly.
He grins. “Of course. I love you.”
My insides turn to mush as I look at the handsome man in front of me. Three words. Did I ever think I’d hear those words from Coy?
I’m still a little wobbly from last night’s comment after Holt suggested Coy had been in love with me since we were toddlers.
“What’s not to love?” He said it so confidently, but I saw conflict in his eyes just moments later, as if he, too, was surprised by his comment.
But this morning, he’s showing me that he loves me. And that speaks volumes.
“I love you, too,” I tell him. And I do. With all my heart.
“Well, I love you both, but I’m cold, so can someone turn on the car?” Dad asks.
We all laugh.
Nineteen
Bellamy
Coy stretches his legs out beside me.
“Are you doing okay?” he asks.
I nod. “Yeah. I just don’t understand why they have you come and then sit and wait for two hours. By the time we get home, Dad is exhausted.”
My father sits in the chair to my right, his head bent forward, and his eyes closed. His lips flutter, telling me he’s asleep.
I can’t blame him. After waiting at the hospital for the PET scan and then driving to the cancer center for the results, I’m tired too. And all I’ve had to do is wait.
Nurses and staff walk by, ushering patients in and out of the double doors that lead to the exam rooms. A large, oval-shaped desk sits on the other side of the reception area. The women sitting behind it keep stealing glances at Coy.
It was the same thing at the hospital, just less obvious. I wasn’t positive they knew Coy was Kelvin McCoy, the country music star. There was a chance they just thought he was a super good-looking guy.
But these women? They know. I feel it.
He must realize this. How could he not?
I worry my bottom lip between my teeth.
“Hey,” I say.
“Hey, what?”
“I think the women behind the desk recognize you.”
He looks over my head for a moment before switching his attention back to me. A warm, knowing grin spread across his face.
“At least they seem to think I’m hot,” he teases.
“Not what I was getting at.”
“What were you getting at then?” He twists his lips. “Do you want me to kiss you right here?”
“I’d rather you not.”
He shrugs. “That would let them know who’s boss.”
“Okay. And then one of them pulls out a phone, and it gets shared on social media? I’m good. Thanks.”
He sits back, the amusement sliding off his face. “You do realize that’s going to happen at some point, right?”
My body stills.
Somehow, I hadn’t thought of that.
To me, he’s just Coy, the boy next door. To everyone else, he’s a big freaking deal.
My brain spins, posing various scenarios for me to consider.
Unflattering pictures from the beach.
Speculation of my sexual history.
Gossip about why I was at the grocery store.
All of those things—will they come? Are they now inevitable?
“I, um …” I clear my throat. “Wow. Okay. I hadn’t really thought about that,” I admit.
“We’ll add that to the list of things to figure out then,” he mutters, clearly not looking forward to that discussion.
I open my mouth to respond when a nurse in turquoise scrubs announces my dad’s name at the door. I wake Dad and then get him to his feet. Coy appears with a wheelchair that gets no objections from the patient.
Dad grabs my hand. His palm is cold, his fingers wrinkly. He looks up at me with fear-stricken eyes. “It’s going to be okay.”
I nod. My words of positivity are stuck in my throat.
“How fast do you think we can get back there?” Coy asks, standing behind Dad. “Want to time us, Bells?”
The distraction is just what we need.
Dad laughs. “Oh, I think we better not. My blood pressure can’t take that much fun anymore.”