Forever (This #5) (8 page)

When the buzz abruptly stops, I realize it’s my cell, not my pager. Pulling it from its holster, I glance at the screen.

Bradley:

You and Ryan still coming tonight?

Sam:

That’s the plan, man.

Bradley:

Damn straight. The man, I am. See y’all soon.

I shake my head, but can’t hold back the smirk. Very typical Bradley Banks right there.

Sam:

Ha. Later, dude.

There. Let me deflate that ego a little for you, brother. The pager does go off, so I replace the phone and pull the small black box. Ryan’s number. Plus five-six-eight-three. Our code numbers for love. Nice.

Replacing the pager, I peel my back off the wall that’s been holding my body up for the past few minutes and head to the on-call room. What was I thinking agreeing to go on this trip with Bradley and Gabby tonight after coming off a shift like this? Clearly, I wasn’t. Because all I want to do is eat and sleep. Ryan has been so good to me. There aren’t many people who know the physical and emotional demands of this job. But he does, and it’s nice to be able to talk it out with him. Sometimes, when I’m too tired for words, he’ll just hold me, and I know he understands the language my body speaks. My mind knows I’m the luckiest girl in the world to have him. But what scares me is how often my thoughts wander to how I felt that day in Joe’s bar when I found out about my father, and then the way Joe’s eyes claimed me at the wedding. Even when there were no words spoken, no touches given, every organ in my body flipped a switch. It was like they had turned off the life support that was keeping me alive to go through the motions, shocked me with paddles, and zapped voltage through my entire body, waking me up to a new sense of living.

Given his place in our family dynamic, it was impossible to avoid him until it wasn’t.

The weekend before Halloween.

Having grown up in Charleston should have made me immune to creepy and ghostly references. After all, one of the biggest attractions has always been the ghost tours. But I’d never been on one. Maybe it was because of Gabby.

I reach the elevator and smash the down button. It immediately opens, and I enter, hitting the number two.

Bradley, Gabby, Ryan, Joe, and I are in Charleston for the weekend. It’s late October, and we’re here to sort out some issues with mine and Gabby’s house. Truthfully, we’re deciding what to do with it and moving everything I didn’t take with me to storage, which is why Joe is tagging along. Since my move, the house has been costing us money to keep it, but neither Gabby nor I are ready to let it go.

Bradley says the trip is pointless and unneeded. “I told you girls I can afford to foot the bill until you finish school, Sam. It’s the perfect thing for the stupid trust fund I’ve refused to use all these years. There’s no one I’d rather use it for.”

“That’s sweet. But I don’t know that I’m coming back when I finish school. My life is where my family is, and Gabby’s all I have left.” I shake my head, refusing to verbally acknowledge I have a whole new side of family I’d yet to accept in Gabe and Cindy, his new wife, our stepmother. “I can’t imagine living that far away from Gabby. Columbia was one thing—it was only an hour or so. Macon is still a decent drive to the ATL with traffic. Charleston is ridic.”

Bradley nods, his lips forming a thin line. “The worst part about Atlanta is its distance from the coast in my opinion.”

“Exactly.” Gabby shrugs. “Maybe we should all move back to Charleston. I mean, surely they need architects here. And doctors. I can do my career anywhere. Broken people abound.”

Bradley kisses her forehead. “Just waiting to be mended, right?”

She smiles. It’s cute, but kind of makes me want to puke from the syrupy sweetness. He’s helped her deal with her demons, and a tinge of jealousy settles in the pit of my stomach. The closest thing I’ve had to that was Joe. From that day in the bar when he told me about my father to subtle cues later, he’s been trying to repair my heart. But what he doesn’t realize is, it’s like a broken bone. After so long it does grow back. If it’s not set properly, though, it will grow back in the wrong position. The more I’m around Gabe, the more I accept that. The only way to fix me is to re-break my heart, set it, and let it grow back in the right position. That’s the one thing I refuse to allow to happen because after Mom died and over the course of my life, I’ve put Gabby at the center, and I’d built up a fortress around it. The only one who would be capable of breaking my heart is me, and I don’t have any plans for doing that anytime soon.

“Sam?” Gabby nudges me.

“Yeah?”

“So, what do you think about moving back to Charleston?”

“I think that’s reckless of us. Our lives are here, Gab…” I hate Ian, Gabby’s ex-boyfriend, ruined my favorite nickname for her. I almost called her Gabs and caught myself. “Gabby, Ryan moved and transferred his residency to Macon to be with me. His brother’s in Atlanta.” The mention of Joe awakens the butterflies in my stomach. They start fluttering, and I swear if there was musical accompaniment it would be The Hallelujah Chorus. I splay my hand over my torso, willing them to calm down. “We need to prepare the house for a rental and move forward, allowing it to generate some revenue for us instead of bleeding us dry.”

She shakes her head. “And what if renters trash it?”

Bradley glances at her. “In Sam’s defense, that’s what security deposits are for.”

“What kind of rental are you talking about?” Gabby huffs. “College rental house with a yearly lease, seasonal rental, or a rental to people with kids and pets?”

I bite the inside of my cheek. When it’s put like that, it makes me cringe. “I don’t know. I was hoping we could pack the house up and meet with a rental company to help us make those decisions. I’m honestly for the one that will make us the most income. Keeping that house isn’t cheap.” Mom’s life insurance paid it off, but there are other ongoing expenses. I know what I don’t want, and that’s to owe Bradley or Gabby anything.

“Fine.” Gabby takes a deep breath. “But if the house is destroyed, it’s on your hands.” She looks at Bradley. “And yours.”

He and I glance at each other and shrug at the same time.

Bradley chose to make this trip a semi-romantic rendezvous to ease some of Gabby’s post mid-term tensions by staying at The Wentworth Mansion. They’d also spent their first night as husband and wife there. Since that place is like three hundred and fifty dollars a night, Ryan, Joe, and I chose to stay at the house so I could get a head start on packing. Ryan and I are cheap. We are also used to sleeping on cots or not at all. So, it seems ridiculous to waste that kind of cash on a fancy bed and whirlpool. And Joe’s already an extra wheel on this trip. I doubt he would feel comfortable staying here alone if Ryan and I had stayed somewhere else.

The next morning, Gabby and Bradley walk through the door, bearing a tray of coffee and Danishes for breakfast. They opted for the four-star breakfast at The Wentworth before joining us, so they work while we eat.

We barely break for a quick sandwich at lunch, and by the time the sun starts to get low in the sky, there’s a symphony of growling stomachs in our living room, surrounded by boxes we plan to take to the storage unit tomorrow before the agent comes by to assess the property. The brown couches where Gabby and I shared Chinese food the night before Bradley Banks stormed into our lives are covered with white sheets, and I plop down backward on the loveseat. “I’m famished.”

Gabby falls beside me, tucking her ankle under her leg. “Me too.”

Bradley scratches his stubble. “Let’s go to A.W. Shucks for dinner, then do one of those ghost tours.”

Gabby’s eyes bulge, then her head starts to shake like she’s having a seizure. “I don’t do scary. No way. Sorry.”

Bradley chuckles. “C’mon, it’s just a ghost tour. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

She waves her hands. “No freakin’ way. Tell him, Sam.” She does some crazy hand motion. “Tell him about the time I had a panic attack in the haunted house.”

The way Bradley’s watching her is adorable. His eyes are alight with humor. I saw it the first time they met. After all this time, it’s obvious he’s still completely smitten with her. I can’t help but smile at them. The sear of a stare bores into me, and I glance at Ryan, who’s quietly leaning against the door. He’s looking at me like Bradley looks at Gabby, and that scares the shit out of me. I don’t want to string him along, but I also don’t want to be the one to break someone’s heart. I didn’t sign up for that. I signed up to save hearts and souls, not destroy them. My stomach lurches at the mere thought.

Another set of eyes are also on me. Joe’s. He runs a hand through his short hair and glares at Ryan before taking a glimpse back at me. His eyes don’t stay long before they move to the ceiling.

“Tell him, Sam. Help your baby sister out here. I. Can. Not. Do. Ghost. Tours.” She smacks me. “Tell him it’s a medical condition, or something. Just help me. Please.”

I can’t even help myself out of my own pitiful situation. “My freshman year of college, I took Gabby to Gatlinburg with some of my friends. There was a haunted show—like a theater. Gabby asked if anyone touched you or jumped out at you, and they promised her no.” Gabby nods her head vehemently. “The guys smirked, and we all thought they were flirting with her.” Gabby rolls her eyes and shrugs. “Anyway, turns out they weren’t flirting. They were being douches because one of the first things to happen was someone touching Gabby. She started screaming, ‘Get your hands off me. Stop this now. Let me out.’ Then, she started climbing on people’s laps.”

Ryan bellows, and Bradley’s fists clench. His jaw ticks, and I worry he’s about to go postal. Joe is glaring at Ryan, and I have to admit I’m a bit taken aback by Ryan’s reaction. Would he have been one of those guys in college to think it was comical to prey on people like my sister?

“Anyway, eventually we got them to turn the lights on, and they let Gabby leave. Apparently, teenagers jumping on people’s laps is frowned upon.”

“Ya think?” Gabby kicks me with her free leg.

“Hey! Anyway, she was shaken up for the rest of the night. I think she ate a gallon of ice cream.”

“I had two cones. One while y’all were still in the stupid place, and one after you came out. But only because everyone ragged me for not having ice cream since no one knew I’d already drowned my sorrows in a sugar coma.”

“Right. Okay. Two double scoop waffle cones of chocolate chip cookie dough. Safe to say she was traumatized. Clearly, for life. No ghost tours for my baby sister.”

“I don’t really mind the haunted hayrides.” Gabby’s brows crumple. “I guess that is kinda like a ghost tour, right? My friend John always had one at his Halloween party. They’d just put me in the middle so no one could get to me. I actually ended up with my eyes closed through most of it, though.” She laughs. “One time I hid under a blanket. No one even knew I was in there. That reminds me.” She looks at Bradley. “We need to stop by Stella’s before we leave to go home. I haven’t seen her since the wedding.” John’s mom, Stella, was like a second mother to us. I wonder how she is.

“So are we going on the ghost tour, or not?” Ryan asks.

The door to the hospital staff elevator dings, and I step off, taking a few steps to the residency on-call room. The group of residents replacing Ryan’s rotation nearly stampedes on me as they exit. “Hey, Sam.” Kurt, third year six-foot-six sex god, nods. “Big plans this weekend?”

“Yeah.” I raise an eyebrow. “Y’all?”

They roll their eyes. Charlotte loops her arm around Kurt’s. “We’ve got a few things planned.”

I bet they do. It’s been no secret they’ve been hooking up. Then again, I’m probably the only conquest Kurt hasn’t defeated. If Charlotte had any sense other than book smarts, she’d stay away from him. “Y’all be safe.”

She cackles. “Oh, we will.”

Uh huh.

I hope this trip Bradley has planned is as fun as the Charleston one—grown up decisions aside. When the door closes, another opens, and Ryan’s eyes meet with mine, pulling me into one of the sleeper rooms. His lips crash into mine, and I clumsily brace his arms in the dark. “Hell-o.”

“Hi yourself. I figured you might need some help changing before we leave.”

I hear the door lock, and Ryan starts to plant kisses on my cheek, then behind my ear, and down to my neck. Is it the fact that I’ve just worked thirty-six hours and am physically and emotionally exhausted that this is doing nothing for me? Or is it what I’ve been fearing since October? Who am I kidding? That day in Joe’s bar I knew I was in dangerous territory, but my emotions were all over the place given the news I’d just been delivered. There was no validation in any of those feelings because my mind wasn’t clear. Just like it’s not now. Ryan cups my breast in his hand, and I throw my head back, willing myself to enjoy the release sex with him will give me. Especially sneaky, on-call room sex. Maybe it’s just what I need to get me in the mood for tonight. It’s not exactly easy to shift from trying to control life-threatening situations, then actually living.

He grunts, then pulls back, releasing me. “What’s wrong, Sam? You’re obviously not in the mood, and nothing I’m doing is helping. I’m pretty sure you’d rather watch paint dry than make love to me.”

My eyes have adjusted to the darkness of the room, and I can’t help but notice Ryan’s bulge straining through his own scrubs. “I’m tired.” I sigh, running my fingers through my short, pixie cut. “I can’t get my mind to shut up.” That’s the truth. Both statements. He doesn’t need to know that his brother makes me hot every time he’s in my sight, no matter our proximity. Or that Joe frequents my thoughts far more than he should. I’ve just worked thirty-six hours. I’m entitled to fatigue. Sheer exhaustion, even. “I’m worried if I don’t take a quick nap, I’m going to be drooling on your shoulder the entire trip, which would make me horrible company.”