Christ, she probably hated him right now.
And she wasn’t the only one, he thought, rolling up his sleeves to finish what he’d started.
27
“Sorry for calling you in the middle of the night.” Bellamy stared out the window of Jenna’s BMW, taking in the purplish light of pre-dawn without really seeing anything.
Jenna shrugged, her haphazard ponytail brushing her shoulders. “What’re friends for?” She paused for a minute. “Speaking of which, do you want to talk about whatever it is that made you call me in the middle of the night to come get you?”
“Not really.”
Saying out loud that she’d fallen in love with Shane, only to have him play her for the world’s biggest fool sure wasn’t going to make the truth sting any less. Hadn’t her past taught her pride it was a bad idea to lie down on the job?
It was better to just forget the whole thing and move on. God, she needed to put her stupid, trusting heart on lockdown. Look at what an idiot following the damned thing had made her.
“You’re pretty upset,” Jenna ventured again, gently pressing.
Words percolated up from Bellamy’s chest, followed by an ache and what was sure to be an avalanche of tears. How could she say any of this without it knocking her down even further? What her ex, Derek, had done paled in comparison to this, and admitting that she’d been played for a fool and then a super-fool by a guy she’d really trusted might just be enough to send her over the edge.
“I’ll get over it. I just want to go back to the city. I want to go home.”
Bellamy stuffed down the urge to talk about Shane—to even think about his dark, brooding eyes or the oh-so-good fresh cedar smell of him—with all her exhausted might.
She wasn’t letting him get the best of her ever again.
“It’s complicated…complicated…it’s not you…”
Bellamy covered her ears to force the words away, but they echoed in her head. The smell of cedar and pine surrounded her, invading her senses, making her heart ache.
“Shane,” she murmured, reaching out.
But he wasn’t there.
Bellamy’s head popped off the cool glass, jarring her awake with a gasp.
“What the hell?” She squinted against the sunlight filtering into the car.
“Effing potholes. Sorry,” Jenna said, making a face. “And it’s rush hour, so you know. We’re going to eat the bumper of this moron’s Corolla for a while. No-driving bonehead,” she muttered. “Anyway, it’s good that you got some sleep.”
Bellamy blinked, her brain railing against the command to catch up. “Oh, right.” Had she honestly been dreaming about the way Shane smelled? She tucked her chin to her chest, surprised to feel the brush of flannel on her face. Damn it. She’d never taken off Shane’s shirt, the one she’d snatched up off the floor on her way to the garage. Bellamy considered taking it off, right there in Jenna’s car, but she was only wearing a thin tank top underneath it. Probably better not to flash morning traffic on 295 just to spite her ex…whatever Shane was. Boyfriend? Lover? Guy who’d stomped on her ridiculously trusting heart?
It was going to take forever to forget him.
“I should probably give you a heads up. I texted Holly.” Jenna hissed a curse at the box truck in front of them and swerved to avoid another pothole. “She’s worried about you.”
Bellamy felt what little energy she had seep out of her. The last thing she wanted was to re-hash what had happened. “There’s nothing to worry about. I’m fine.”
“Please. You know neither one of us is buying that, right? Anyway, she just wants to be a good friend. She’s making you breakfast.”
Bellamy groaned. “You let her into your kitchen?”
A wicked smile crossed Jenna’s face. “Nope. I let her into yours.” She took a quick exit and headed toward Bellamy’s condo. “But don’t worry. Her breakfast-making skills are totally limited to ordering Starbucks and buying emotional support muffins from that bakery on Windsor Street.”
“That’s true.” Bellamy said. At least her kitchen was probably safe. Her cereal, not so much. “But, really. There’s nothing to worry about.”
“Okay. Just breakfast it is, then.”
Bellamy wrapped her arms around herself and slumped back into the passenger seat. She stared at the traffic, vowing to take the stupid flannel shirt off and stuff it in the giveaway box the minute she walked in the door.
She was going to erase Shane Griffin from her memory if it was the last thing she ever did.
Shane worked on Bellamy’s transmission until his fingers were numb, letting the movements and the feel of her car under his hands calm him. Finally, somewhere between replacing the bearings and seating the bell housing, the answers starting falling into place, and by the time the sun came up, bright and unyielding over the mountain, Shane knew what he had to do. He thanked Jackson for all of his help and sent him on his weary way before flipping his cell phone into one hand, cradling it in his palm as he dialed.
“Riverside Hospital,” the woman’s pleasant voice purred into the phone.
“I need to check on a patient in the ICU, please.”
“Just a moment.”
After a brief conversation with one of the ICU nurses, Shane learned that Dr. Russell was scheduled to make rounds before his shift ended at nine. Shit, that wouldn’t give him enough time to get back to the cabin to talk to Bellamy if he wanted to make it out there before the doctor left. Measuring his options and liking neither, he scrolled to Bellamy’s number, hitting send. When the call went straight to voicemail, he wasn’t exactly shocked. She had every right to be mad. Still, this wasn’t the sort of thing he wanted to leave on her voicemail. She deserved more than a recorded apology.
She deserved everything. And as soon as he got back to the cabin, he’d give it to her.
“All in all, you’re incredibly lucky, Mr. Griffin. Even though your episode last year was rather mild, people who suffer more than one heart attack usually have more tissue damage.” Dr. Russell flipped through the results of Grady’s MRI, explaining the details. “You’ll have to stay with us for a little while as you recover, but I don’t think you’ll need the ICU after today. We’ll continue to monitor you, and you’ll have to stay on your medication after you leave, of course. We’ll have to talk about some lifestyle changes as well. But for now, what I really want you to do is keep resting.”
“Got plenty of time to rest when I’m dead,” Grady rasped. His slate-gray eyes didn’t miss a trick, even if he did look like he could use the rest and then some.
Dr. Russell chuckled. “Well, lucky for you, that day won’t be today. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go fill Dr. Singh in on your status before I head out. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He paused to look at Shane, who finally let himself sigh a breath of relief from the visitor’s chair crammed in the corner. “Call the nurses’ station if you need anything, Mr. Griffin.”