“Weston,” I say back with a smile, shuffling closer. I take his hand, and he links his fingers through mine. He circles his thumb along the soft flesh on the inside of my wrist. I bring my free hand forward, brushing his hair back behind his ear.
There’s nothing romantic about this moment. We’re standing in a crammed ER room while Wes gets IV fluids due to dehydration. And yet I’ve never felt something more intimate. Then again, I know nothing about love.
I bring my hand down and cup his face. Wes closes his eyes and leans his face into my palm. He tightens his grip on my hand, and I can feel his heart racing along with mine.
And then someone knocks on the door. I drop my hand that’s on Weston’s face but keep a hold of his hand.
“Hey.” Archer pulls back the curtain, and Wes takes his hand out of mine. “I saw your name in the system. How are you feeling?”
“I’ve been better,” Wes tells his almost brother-in-law.
“I’m surprised you didn’t say ‘fine,’” I tease.
“I didn’t read your chart,” Archer says. “What’s going on?”
“He’s had a high fever for three days and finally let me take him to the doctor this morning.” I give Wes a telling look and then smile.
“There’s a nasty virus going around,” Archer tells us. “The ER has been busy.” He pulls out the little rolling stool I’ve always been too afraid to sit on. What if the doctor came in and yelled at me? “Are you being admitted overnight?”
“No,” Wes says. “And I won’t stay even if they say I should. I’ll be fine at home.”
Archer and I give Wes the same dubious look.
“This virus is serious. It’s put a few people in the ICU already. Take care of yourself so you can take care of Jackson,” Archer tells Wes, using his you better listen to me because I’m a doctor tone. Wes just grumbles in response, and Archer tells him he’ll check back later if we’re still here. He’s off to perform another surgery.
“Oh shit,” Wes says after Archer leaves.
“What?”
“I didn’t tell him not to tell Quinn.”
“You think he will?”
Wes raises an eyebrow. “I know he will.”
“That’s not a bad thing. They’re concerned about you because they care.” Like I do.
“Once Quinn knows, she’ll tell our mother.”
“That’s not a bad thing, either,” I press. “It’s nice the way you guys all look out for each other.”
His eyes meet mine, and something passes between us, something unsaid, something I can’t describe, but it’s in that moment it’s like he knows.
He knows I’d give anything to have a family like his.
“I know,” he says softly. “It’s really nice, and I shouldn’t complain about it. I don’t like people doting over me.”
“Well, you’re still a big, strong man even when you’re lying here in the hospital, you know.”
His eyes narrow into a playful glare, and then he sighs. “I know. It’s more that I don’t want to burden others.”
“Taking care of people you care about isn’t a burden. People like doing it, and it makes you feel good.”
“Does it make you feel good?”
My mouth goes dry, and I forget how to breathe for a second. If his hand was still surrounding mine, there’d be no way to deny just how good this is making me feel.
“Yes,” I whisper. “It does. Because I care about you.” I swallow hard and inch closer to the bed. The moment is becoming too intense, and suddenly I’m hot and sweat breaks out along my hairline.
Someone else knocks on the door, and this time I’m thankful for the interruption. Because I’m feeling things I’ve never felt before, and I’m not sure what to do with all these fucking feelings. Moving back to the chair, I pull out my phone and text Corbin, asking for an update on Dad.
The nurse leaves, telling Wes to try and rest and she’ll be back in half an hour to check on him.
“You don’t have to stay,” Wes says, looking tired.
“I’ll probably wander around and see if I can find something to eat.” He’ll be more likely to fall asleep if I’m not in here. “Are you allowed to eat?”
“No one told me no.”
“I’ll bring you something.” Standing, I fight back the urge to go to him, brush his hair back, and kiss his forehead.
“Hey,” Wes says, catching my hand as I walk by. His fingers walk up my wrist, and a shiver runs down my spine. I inhale sharply, knees weakening. How can he affect me so much with just his fingers on my wrist?
“Yeah?”
“Thank you, Scarlet, for everything.”
I put my free hand on top of his hand and close my eyes in a long blink. “Of course, Wes.” I look into his eyes. “Get some rest so you get better. We still have Netflix to binge.”
His lips curve into a small smile. “That’s good motivation.”
I take a drink of ice water, debating pouring it over my head while I sit in the middle of the hospital cafeteria. After practically running out of the room, I hid in an elevator with my back against the wall until my heart stopped pounding.
I don’t know what is happening to me…even though I really do.
But I won’t say it. I don’t believe in love. My heart isn’t capable of it.
My phone buzzes in my purse, pulling me out of the reverie I was in. It’s Quinn, and I’m sure she’s calling to check on Wes.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Scarlet. Are you with Wes?”
“Not currently. I went to the cafeteria to get some food.”
“Oh, okay. How’s he doing?”
“He’s looking better.”
“Thanks for taking him. Wes doesn’t go to the doctor willingly.”
I lean back and smile. “I noticed. Did you happen to call your mom and tell her Wes is sick?”
Quinn laughs. “I know better.”
“Wes said she freaks out a little.”
“That’s an understatement.” Emma starts crying in the background. “I gotta go, but thanks for looking out for my brother. Can you text me an update later?”
“Yeah, I will. Give Emma a hug for me.”
“I will. Bye!”
I hang up and finish my food, then grab a drink and a snack to take up to Wes. He’s asleep, so I quietly slip in and try to get comfortable in the chair next to the bed. The nurse comes in a few minutes later, looks him over but doesn’t wake him, and then all is quiet again. I read a book on my phone and end up drifting off, not waking until the doctor comes back in to look Wes over.
His fever went down to a manageable level, and Wes can go home.
“You’re still sick,” the doctor tells him. “Rest the remainder of today and take it easy tomorrow.”
“I will,” Wes agrees, eager to get out of here. The doctor leaves, and a few minutes later a nurse comes in with discharge paperwork.
“Is your girlfriend driving you home?” the nurse asks, going over the standard questions.