Authors: Delia Delaney
I quietly took in the advice, even agreeing that it one hundred percent made sense.
“So do you think that would help her?” Miranda asked.
“What? Oh, definitely. Thank you. I should have written all of it down, though.”
With a smile she said, “No need. Hang on a minute.”
While she left for her desk, I tried to figure out how I might go about meeting Gage for the first time and not totally screw it up. It was possible that we wouldn’t even get through our first date before we realized we couldn’t stand being around one another,
and
if that was the case, then I would accept that first. I could handle the rejection if I had to. After all, if it wasn’t meant to be, then it wasn’t meant to be.
Second
,
I decided to focus on just being myself. It was the easiest role to play, so why change it? It wasn’t in my nature to be somebody I wasn’t, so I didn’t worry about
that
, but it
was
in my nature to be a pleaser. My efforts to be agreeable sometimes left a mark, and I knew I should probably
keep that in check a little better. So far Gage was used to hearing my likes and dislikes over the phone, so I had a jumpstart on that right away. Perhaps if I had met him any other way he might have been introduced to the super compliant Ellie, but now that I’d already voiced some of my opinions, I could just continue on with that same routine.
“Here you go,” Miranda smiled, handing me a few sheets of paper. “That’s the entire article.”
“Oh, thank you. Uh, I’ll be sure to pass it along.”
I gathered up my things to head out and heard, “Good luck with your date, Ellie.”
“Thanks,” I replied automatically. I caught myself
as soon as I’d said it, and looked at Miranda smiling at me.
“Just be yourself, sweetie,” she told me, squeezing my shoulder on her way by. “There’s no reason to change who you are for
any
guy.”
Gage actually called me on my way home. I knew I was already a half an hour behind schedule, so I felt really guilty about that. However, it was
Gage
that was delaying our date when he said, “I, uh, kind of ne
ed to get a few stitches
,” he told me.
“What?”
“Well
normally I’d just let it heal however, but it won’t stop bleeding and I think I can see the bone.”
“Oh my gosh!” I exclaimed. “Yes, you definitely need stitches. Look, I’m on my way home from work but
I’ll
stop by and take you, okay? You shouldn’t drive if you’re bleeding to death.”
He chuckled. “
Nah, I think I’ll live, but y
ou don’t mind coming to get me? I’m sorry it’s not the great
est way to introduce myself but—
”
“Well, I don’t think you have a choice, Gage. I’ll be there in about five minutes if you can wait that long.”
“
Sweet, I’ll
call off the ambulance.”
I laughed. “Okay, see you in a bit.”
When I got to Wyatt’s house I was really nervous, but not for the same reasons I was before.
Just thinking about stitches and blood—and
bone
?
—
made
me feel queasy.
I hoped he was joking.
I’d barely gotten out of the car when Gage came out the front door. He had his right hand holding a pile of gauze over his left forearm. But forget that… When he smiled at me I almost lost my wits.
He was
really
good-looking, even better in person, and with a baseball hat on, there was something about him that drew me in instantly.
His smile.
“Hey, Ellie,” he greeted cheerfully. He came right to where I was standing, and I was pre
tty sure he was going to hug me
but didn’t know what to do to hold the gauze on his arm. “Uh, put your hand here for a second so I can give you a hug.”
“No way,” I practically scoffed.
He raised an eyebrow at me. “No way to the hug, or no way to touching my gaping wound?”
I kind of smiled. “Uh, no way to touching your
gaping wound.”
“But it’s all covered,” he said confidently. “I put fresh gauze on top, just to be presentable for you. Do you wanna see it—
?
”
I couldn’t help it when I
recoiled, and he
lightly chuckled.
“Okay, no worries.”
“I’m sorry, but why do you think I’m the only one in my family that’s
not
in a medical profession? I’m a big pansy.”
“Okay, so I won’t make you look at it, and I won’
t make you touch clean gauze…” H
e lifted his arms over my head, still
wi
th one attached to the other. “
B
ut I will hug you hello, since you’re not opposed to it.”
With a smile I wrapped my arms around his waist and hugged him back. My
face
reached his shoulder and I liked how I fit against his height.
“It’s very nice to finally meet you,” he said.
“It’s nice to meet you, too.”
We released each other and kind of stood there for a moment. I liked the little bit of stubble on his chin, and his
deep hazel
eyes were
much brighter in person.
“So I think you’re a lot prettie
r in person,” he actually said.
He seemed a bit shy about the compliment, but I liked that, and it put me at ease.
“Thank you. I was actually thinking the same thing about you,” I admitted. “You know, that you’re prettier in person.”
He grinned. “Cool. I’ll take that.” After a brief pause he said, “I didn’t know you had green eyes, though.”
“Oh?”
He shook his head. “I guess pictures don’t do you justice.
And y
ou’re actually a little taller than I expected, as well.
”
“Is that a bad thing? I’m not very good at slouching
unless I’m on a snowboard
.”
“No, that’s not a bad thing at all,” he chuckled.
He put his hand on my head and then brought it straight across to
beneath
his chin. “Five-
nine
?”
With a smile I replied, “Yep.” Since he’d used his bandaged arm to do the measurement, it brought me back to reality. “Oh gosh, we need to get you to the ER.”
He shrugged. “Oh this little thing? Nah, it might even stitch itself if I wait another hour.”
I playfully rolled my eyes and he laughed. Then I motioned for him to get in the car. As I started the ignition
,
he picked up some papers as he sat down.
“Ten Fears T
hat—”
I snatched them out of his hands and could feel my face burn with embarrassment.
“Wait, ten fears that what?” he asked with a smile. “Did it say ‘ruin’? Ruin what?”
“It’s nothing,” I told him, stuffing the printout between my door and my seat.
“Ten fears that ruin what?” he asked again.
“It’s just something from work.”
“Well I want to know what you’re working on.”
“It’s not something that I’m
working
on; it’s just something that someone else, uh, was working on and gave to me to
look
over.” I guess that was the truth.
“Hmm, well can I read it? I’m up for learning anything about
fear and ruining things.”
I laughed as I pulled out of the driveway. “So how’d you hurt yourself?” I asked, changing the subject.
He slightly smiled, knowing that I was totally detracting from the article he wanted to read. “Uh, well, I was carrying in a box from my truck, and had my bat bag on my shoulder. Wyatt has this mirror on
the
wall with
these metal design things on it…
”
I nodded my awareness of it. “So his ‘metal art’
got you
?”
“Well first my bag caught the corner of the mirror and tore it off the wall. On it’s way down to break into six pieces
,
it
tore
my arm
open
.”
I cringed, but I tried not to let him see how truly disgusting that was to me.
“His ‘metal art
,
’
huh?” Gage
continued
. “Sounds like something I’m gonna have to replace?”
“I have no idea,” I chuckled. “My sister actually got that for him.”
“Uh-oh.”
“She complained that he didn’t have any mirrors in the house besides the little one in the bathroom. Wyatt t
old her that mirrors were girly
, so Dawn got him that one to prove they could actually be ‘manly.’ ”
“Yep, that manly thing did some serious damage.”
I glanced across the car to his arm. “So did you really see bone?
Wait
,
don’t answer that
. Okay, so did you?”
He smiled at me and then slig
htly nodded his head. “Yeah, it’s
pretty deep.” We were both quiet for a few seconds until he said, “I feel a little underdressed.”
He looked over
the gray slacks and button-up blouse I was wearing,
and then looked down at his own attire, which consisted of jeans and a t-shirt.
“Oh, I haven’t even changed from work yet,” I explained. “I was just heading home when you c
alled. Normally I’d be in jeans
too. But the blood on your pants is probably overdoing the casualness of the look.”
He laughed and looked down at the left side of his jeans. “I didn’t have a chance to change, either. When you’re bleeding to death your pants are the last
thing
on your mind.”
“So you really were bleeding to death
, huh
?”
I smirked.
“Possibly. I kind of feel a little light-headed. Is that a bad sign?”
“
Yes
,” I said emphatically, looking him over.
“What if I’m not sure it’s
just
your presence that’s making me dizzy? How do I tell the difference?”
I slowly smiled as I
directed the car
to the emergency entrance
. “I don’t know. I guess you’ll have to get this arm thing taken care of first, and then you’ll have a chance to figure it out later.” I stopped the car at the sliding doors.
“Good, I have something to live for,” he said as he got out of the car.
Chapter Three
I quickly found a parking space (well, as quickly as it took to find a space at the very
far
end of the parking lot) and
made my way into the emergency room. Gage was filling out paperwork when I spotted him on the
opposite
side of the room.
“First things first,” he said as I sat down beside him.
“Are you feeling okay?” I asked. “You really don’t look so hot.”
“I go from ‘pretty’ to ‘not-so-hot’ in a matter of minutes?”
“Gage, do you feel okay?”
“Uh, no not really…”
I made him stand up with me and took the clipboard from him and his insurance card. I walked him up to the front desk and said, “He really needs to be taken care of.”
The woman stationed there barely looked up at me. “He can wait in line like the rest of ‘em, honey.”
I
took a slow breath
to keep myself composed.
“Blood takes priority the last time I checked, and he’s gonna pass out if he doesn’t lie down. And don’t call me ‘honey’,” I added.
She finally looked up at me. “Is the paperwork even completed?” she asked smugly.
I glanced at the form in my hand and began adding a few things to finish it up. All it needed was the date and a description of
how the injury occurred
. “Sign,” I told Gage. He did what I asked and I set the clipboard on the counter. “All done,” I told her.
She slowly took the forms and glanced them over. “You forgot to circle where the injury is,” she smiled, pointing to
a
diagram of a body on the
paper
and handing it back to me.
“You know, if this were my
parents’
hospital, we’d be treated a lot friendlier than this
,” I told her, circling the dang
left forearm of the diagram. “People there are treated as guests, not nuisances. Maybe I should just let him pass out on the floor and he can bleed all over
the place.”