“Hey.” I smile once he’s in front of me.
“Did you have a good lunch?” he asks, wrapping his arm around my waist, dropping his mouth to mine and kissing me softly before I can answer.
“Yes,” I breathe against his lips then turn my head when I hear July shouting.
“Oh, my God! You guys are so cute,” she yells as she rushes toward us, out of the café, with Wes following close behind her, shaking his head. “Congratulations, Dillon.” She grins, giving him a hug and making me laugh.
“Thanks,” Dillon mutters, hugging her back with one arm, since his free hand is still holding mine.
“We should do a double date.” She smiles excitedly, looking between the two of us.
“Ignore her. She’s crazy,” Wes mutters, taking July by the waist and pulling her back to his side, then sticking out his hand. “Congrats, man. Welcome to the land of crazy.” He smiles as July smacks his shoulder, and Dillon shakes his hand chuckling.
Rolling my eyes, I see my cousin do the same. “I wish we had time to chat, but I need to get back to the clinic,” she grumbles, looking at her watch then me. “Call me soon, so we can set up girls’ night. Maybe we should have a bachelorette party for you, since you didn’t have one.” She smiles, and her eyes light with mischief.
“Not happening,” Dillon and Wes say in unison, making us girls laugh.
“We’ll see.” She grins then leans over, giving me a hug and speaking softly against my ear, “You guys look perfect together, and seriously, I’m so happy for you.” Tears sting my nose and I hug her tighter. I may not have any sisters, but who needs them when you have some of the best cousins in the world?
“Love you,” I murmur, feeling her arms tighten before she steps back.
“See you two around,” Wes says with a flick of his fingers as he takes July’s hand, leading her toward his bike that is parked a few feet away, near the curb.
“You are not having a bachelorette party,” Dillon mutters, just loud enough for me to hear as he moves us toward the road.
“We shall see.” I grin, stepping ahead of him, then hear him roar, “Nooo!” as his hand holding mine tugs me back roughly. The sudden impact of a car clipping my hip and thigh sends me spiraling to the concrete, where my head bounces, turning everything black.
“You heard the doctor. She’s going to be fine. Calm down. You won’t do her any good if you’re a fucking wreck when she wakes up,” my dad’s gruff voice says off in the distance. My head feels like I got hit in the skull with a bat, and my eyes are too heavy to open. I feel myself start to panic as I try to fight against whatever the hell has dragged me under, but it seems impossible and eventually I give up, letting the darkness take over.
“Baby, you have got to wake up and let me know you’re okay,” Dillon whispers against my ear, sounding worried, and I frown. Why wouldn’t I be okay? Then the pain in my head and side registers, and I remember getting hit by a car.
“Dillon.” Without opening my eyes, I know I’m in the hospital by the smell of disinfectant.
“Finally.” His warm hand rests against my cheek, and my body relaxes ever so slightly from his touch. “Open your eyes for me.” I try. I really try, but they are so heavy. “Please open your eyes,” he murmurs, resting his soft lips against my forehead. I fight against the weight, and my eyes slowly flutter open. It takes a second to focus, but when I do, I find his face looming above me and his worried eyes searching mine. “There you are.” His thumb slides down the bridge of my nose, causing my heavy eyelids to drift closed once again. “Look at me, gorgeous.” I blink back open and look up at his handsome face.
“Fuck.” He bends, touching his mouth to mine. “I love you. Stay awake for me,” he demands, leaning back, picking up the remote attached to the bed, and pressing something on it before grabbing a pink cup with a straw in it and placing it against my mouth. “Slow,” he instructs as I drink down gulp after gulp of cool water.
Releasing the straw, I shake my head then whisper, “I got hit by a car.” I watch his eyes close and his jaw clench.
“Honey?” my mom calls softy, pulling my attention from Dillon. Turning my head, I watch her come toward me through the dimly lit room. “You scared me and your dad,” she scolds, stopping at the side of the bed. “We’ve been worried sick.” She bends over the rail and engulfs me in a hug that squeezes the oxygen out of my lungs, making me wince in pain.
“Sorry,” I croak out.
“Easy,” Dillon grumbles from my side.
“Where’s Dad?” I breathe into her neck, and she looks over her shoulder then takes a step back.
“Right here,” my dad says, sounding choked up, and I see he’s a mess. His eyes are red and his hair is in disarray. “I’ll always be right here.” He gets close, resting his hand against my cheek then his lips against my forehead before looking down at me.
“I got hit by a car,” I repeat, and his eyes slide closed.
“Let’s not talk about that right now,” Dillon cuts in, and I tilt my head to look at him, noticing his jaw ticking. Something I noticed the first time when I mentioned getting hit.
“How are you feeling?” Mom asks, resting her hand over mine, and I turn my head back toward her, wincing from the movement.
I feel like I’ve been hit by a car, I think but don’t say, since that statement seems to make Dillon mad every time I do. “My head hurts a little,” I lie. My head is pounding actually, and my hip is killing me.
“You hit your head pretty hard. You had to get eight stitches,” Dad explains, and I lift my hand toward my head, only to have Dillon grab my wrist, stopping me before I can feel for them.
“Ashlyn,” Dr. Woods says, coming into the room, and I wonder what she’s thinking since she’s the doctor who stitched up my foot weeks ago after Dillon and Jax got into it. “I’m so glad to see you awake. How are you feeling?” she asks, looking at me then dropping her eyes to the computer pad in her hand, typing something in while walking toward the bed I’m lying in.
“How long was I out for?” I frown, and she pulls her eyes from the computer to meet my gaze.
“Just about an hour.”
“An hour?” I breathe, feeling Dillon’s hand squeeze mine. I knew I was out of it, but being unconscious for an hour is bad… really bad.
“You’re okay,” she says gently, getting closer, forcing my mom and dad to move away. “But you have suffered a small acute subdural hematoma that we need to keep an eye on.” At her words, my hand holding Dillon’s tightens in distress. “Do you mind if we ask you a few questions?” she continues, not knowing my insides are seizing up with worry.
“Sure,” I whisper, and she smiles softly then looks at a man I didn’t notice before.
“This is Dr. Desmond,” she introduces, and he smiles gently, taking the pad from her as she hands it over. “He’s going to be asking you some questions while I check your wound and vitals.”
“Okay.” I try to relax while Dr. Desmond asks me questions about current events and the people in the room, and Dr. Woods checks my injuries and then my pulse.