The EMT who checked my vitals let it be known that he didn’t approve of my decision and said, “You lost consciousness when you hit your head. You really should go to the hospital.”
“No.” I shook him off.
The guy looked annoyed but resigned. He cracked a cold pack to activate it and handed it to me to hold on my forehead. He glanced at Annabelle, who was standing behind me, and spoke loud enough for her to hear. “You need to watch for a headache, ringing in the ears, vomiting, nausea, fatigue, blurry vision, and if you go to sleep, have someone wake you up every few hours to check that your pupils aren’t dilated.”
“Got it.” I’d say anything for them to go away so I could go home. Cars slowed down to see what was happening, pedestrians paused while walking by. It was a nightmare.
“You need to follow up with your regular doctor. From what you’ve described, I think you had a massive panic attack and hyperventilated.”
“Panic attack?” I asked. I knew I frequently got stressed and anxious about having another stroke, but this seemed like a new level.
“They can be pretty dramatic,” he said. “You probably felt weak like you were going to faint but you wouldn’t have. Fainting rarely happens during panic or anxiety.” I glared at him. Did he really have to keep saying that? “You did manage to knock yourself out on the pavement, though, and you really should have that checked out.”
“That” was a bump the size of an egg on my forehead. I promised that I would. He clearly didn’t believe me as he glanced at Annabelle to confirm that she’d heard him. She nodded and gave me a steely-eyed stare that let me know she wasn’t going to let me off as easily as he did.
ManDee left us when the ambulance took off, clearly appreciating that the show was over. Annabelle drove me home. We were silent for most of the ride with me reclined in the passenger seat and holding the cold pack on my head.
I was caught between feeling terrible that I’d clearly frightened her and horribly embarrassed that I’d had a panic attack. A freaking panic attack. What Jackson and Dr. Henry had gamely called post-traumatic stress, which I had rejected, really was just me having a huge freak-out. They were right. I was a head case. This was not my finest hour.
Annabelle parked in front of the house, and I’d never been so grateful to be home in my life. As if by stepping over the threshold, I could leave this vulnerable version of myself behind.
“You don’t have to stay,” I said. I climbed the steps, pulling out my keys. “I’m fine.”
I didn’t want her to lose sleep waking up every few hours to check on me. Also, there was a part of me that was certain she must see me differently now. She’d learned more about my past than I’d ever planned to tell her, she’d found out about the Sunshine House, and she’d witnessed me having a complete and total nervous breakdown, culminating in knocking myself out. I’d never felt like such a complete loser in my entire life.
That was the moment that I knew that this crazy thing between us was done. It had run its course and we hadn’t even hit the three-month mark. But there was no way I was going to keep her tied to me, a broken guy with mental issues, when she deserved so much more. I turned to face her.
“Go home, Annabelle,” I said. I felt ridiculous, like a kid yelling at a stray puppy to stop following him, but I did it anyway for her sake. “I don’t need you to look after me. I’ve got this.”
“Shh,” she shushed me. “Don’t be an idiot. And you have exactly two choices here, I can stay with you and check on you every few hours or I can call Jackson, tell him what happened, and we’ll put you back in that car and go to the hospital.”
The fierce light in her eye told me she was not playing. Okay, then. I’d let her tuck me in, which was galling, but then she was out of here.
I unlocked the door and we slipped into the house in full stealth mode, not wanting to wake anyone up. That lasted all of three seconds when the moonlight caught Annabelle’s delicate profile, and the longing for her, to be inside her, hit me so low and deep, I couldn’t think of anything else.
She turned to walk to my bedroom, but I grabbed her hand and tugged her into my embrace, then I brought her down to the floor, surprising even me. I was so not an impetuous guy when it came to women, but Annabelle was different. She let out a startled gasp, and I braced for her to push me away. Naturally, she flipped the script, and pulled off her dress in one sweeping motion, leaving herself mostly naked beneath me.
“Are you sure?” she whispered.
“Positive.” Since this would be our last night together, I planned to commit every inch of her to memory.
Without even a pause, she unsnapped my jeans and drew the zipper down. She shoved them aside until they rode low on my hips, setting my dick free. It jutted forward, obviously seeking its favorite place in the known universe, and Annabelle accommodated by pushing aside her underwear and then she looped her legs around my waist and pulled me deep inside her. Fucking bliss.
I drove into her, again and again, as if in the euphoria of her, I could obliterate the fact that after tonight, I was letting her go. She made hot sexy noises in her throat that drove me right to the edge and then she whispered in my ear, “I love you, Nick. I love you.”
I was undone.
Annabelle
23
I watched him sleep. His face was relaxed but the chiseled cheekbones and stubborn chin remained, making him ridiculously attractive even while unconscious. There was no drool or snoring or even a case of bedhead to diminish his good looks. It simply wasn’t fair.
His breathing was deep and even. It calmed me a little. The truth was my head was spinning. Had I really told Nick I loved him? Oh man, he was going to shake me off like a bad case of fleas.
I couldn’t blame him. Getting attached had not been a part of our deal. We had agreed, three months and then we went our separate ways. I’d thought I’d be okay with that but—damn it—how was I supposed to walk away from a guy who made me feel all these feelings?
He was so much more than he let anyone see. When he set up Emily and Elijah and the baby with temporary lodgings, I knew it was personal for him. I knew he was the money behind the Sunshine House, and I knew it was his cause because as he’d said he saw himself in Elijah. The things he’d said about his childhood had left me cold. He’d never mentioned his past to me before, but I’d known it was troubled, just like I knew that right now he needed his sister.
I reached out and pushed his hair off his forehead. The bump was still there, it had turned a deep shade of blue, but it hadn’t gotten any bigger. I pondered the self-made man in front of me and acknowledged that what I was about to do would likely finish off everything between us. Given that we were a little more than halfway through our three months, I supposed I’d have to be content with the time I’d been given.