My knees buckle. Seriously, I’m swooning here. Where did he even come from? The boy I was in love with was sweet, kind, and caring. He had a bit of swagger, but this Trey – he’s so far over the top. And all mine.
I wave at him as he opens the door. “I’ll text you tomorrow night after work.”
“Promise?” He holds the edge of the door and blocks anyone’s view of the room.
His eyes hold a smidgen of fear like he’s afraid I’ll leave him again. Never going to happen. “I promise.”
“I’m holding you to that.” He nods and shuts the door behind him.
I run to the door and twist the lock. Shit. I’m already five minutes late. I race over to my scrubs and pick them up. I’ve got to get back on the floor.
Five minutes later, when I’m walking into the door of the ER, I see a woman being pushed in a wheelchair into an exam room. My eyes narrow. Isn’t that Nicole? The woman looks like Trey.
Even though I haven’t seen Nicole in years, the patient appears to be the right age. Doesn’t she work here at the hospital? Shit. I swipe my phone screen open.
Me: I think I saw Nicole going into exam room six.
Trey: Are you sure?
Me: I can’t look and tell you without breaking HIPPA laws. Since you’re here, why don’t you check?
Trey: Thanks. I’ll be there in four.
My fingers shake as I replace the nurse who’s been filling in for me. I hope nothing serious is wrong with Nicole. Maybe it isn’t even her. My gaze falls to the patient list.
Nicole Collins – unconscious.
Shit. It’s her. Please, be okay. I scoot into my seat and put my phone down. There’s nothing I can do. Whatever is going on with her, the doctors will figure it out.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Trey
My heart slams in my chest as I rest my shoulder against the doorway of the exam room. Nicole’s eyes are closed as she lays still on the hospital bed. I’m not used to seeing her this way. “Nic?”
Her eyes pop open. They’re round and filled with anxiety. “What are you doing here?”
“Shit. Don’t get all worked up.” Lord, she must think the hospital called in her family. If I knew everything was okay, it would be funny. However, there’s nothing humorous about this situation. “You remember Natalie Westbrook?”
She frowns. “Sure.”
“Natalie works the front desk of the ER.”
“She called you?” Nicole looks behind me as if she’s afraid someone is listening to our conversation. “Don’t let anyone hear you say anything like that. She could get in trouble for telling you I’m in the hospital.”
I shrug. “She didn’t call me.” Shit. I’ve backed myself into a corner. If I admit Natalie didn’t call me, I’ll have to tell her what we were doing. I flush. Well, I’m not going to give her all the details. “We were – “
Nicole slams her hands over her ears. “Oh, don’t tell
me. I don’t want to know.”
“No, you really don’t.” I stride across the room. As I draw nearer, I feel the room closing in on me. Why does our family keep ending up in these places?
She raises an eyebrow. “Well, you look the part.”
“Thank you.” I sit down on the edge of the bed and grasp her hand. My jeans stretch across my thigh and the cuff raises up, exposing more of my biker boots. “What happened?”
“I don’t know.” Tears fill her eyes. “I was feeling dizzy for an hour or so and then passed out. I’ve never fainted before.”