“Okay,” I nuzzle into his hold, loving the safety it leaves with me. “I could stay here all night.”
“Me, too.”
This time, I believe him. He’s winning me over, and I pray he doesn’t break my heart.
“Now, go in there and have Bea drive you home. I’ll stay for fifteen minutes, and then I’ll be right behind you.”
Pushing back from his hold, I notice his face is relaxed and easy. “You sure? You’re okay with waiting to tell everyone?” I need to reinforce that we’re on the same page.
“Yeah, but not long, okay?” He twists me around to face the door.
He smacks my ass, and I jump.
“Now, hurry because I can’t wait for your ass to be bare for my taking.”
A huge echo of laughter pours out of him, only spurring my own giggling.
seven
Tanner: Be there soon. Strip down, and be waiting for me to tie you to the bed.
FOR THE MILLIONTH TIME, I read the text Tanner sent to me five minutes after Bea had dropped me off, worried where he might be. The sun is now streaming in through the curtains, and my ten phone calls and the equal amount of text messages have gone unanswered. The sleepless night I was expecting went a completely different route than I thought it would have last night. Eventually, I was unable to stay awake any longer, and somewhere between a Friends and a Seinfeld rerun, I lost the battle.
Me: Tanner? I’m worried.
It’s my last attempt before I have to set a plan in motion. If I call Brad, he’s going to question why I’m interested in Tanner’s whereabouts, especially this early in the morning. Thinking I need some brains—hopefully, well-rested brains—to help me figure this out, I call Bea.
“What?” she yells into the phone.
I pull my ear away from the receiver.
“You do realize, it’s, like—”
A loud crash echoes through the phone.
“Fucking seven in the morning. What the hell, Piper?” she screams.
I can tell she’s fumbling to pick up whatever dropped.
“I’m sorry, Bea.”
“Shouldn’t you be wrapped up in some swimmer’s arms? Or shouldn’t he be wrapped inside you?” She laughs at her own joke while I remain silent. “What’s wrong?” She sighs, probably assuming that Tanner and I got into some huge immature fight.
“He never showed up.” I bite my nails and pace the floor in front of my television.
“Call him.”
“You think I haven’t tried?” Annoyance is clear in my tone.
“Well, Tanner does bring this insecure schoolgirl crush side of you out to play.”
“What? He does not.”
“Does to.”
“Does—ugh, whatever, Bea. Listen, I’ve called and texted him a billion times.”
“I doubt a billion.” She laughs.
I huff, “Take this seriously, Bea. What do I do? He hasn’t responded at all.” I stop pacing and look out the window, searching the parking lot for his Jeep.
“All right. Hold on. Let me sit up, so my amazing brain is at its full potential. Let’s see. You don’t want to call Brad.”
“No!” I yell into the receiver, my heart rate skyrocketing with the thought.
“Um . . . that’s why I said you don’t,” she says, stressing the last word.
My body relaxes.
“I’ll call him,” she says.
“Why would you call my brother, Bea?”
Silence creeps on the other end because she realizes that would be more absurd than if I called him.
“Well, crap. Call the police. I don’t know.”
I can practically imagine her in her bed, throwing her hand up in the air in defeat.
“Ugh . . .”
Maybe Tanner got hung up with Brad somewhere and couldn’t sneak away, but then his Jeep would be in the parking lot.
My bottom lip is practically raw from my teeth nibbling on it while I’ve been trying to figure out where the hell Tanner is. Just then, my phone beeps. Pulling it away, I see Brad’s name flashing across the screen. Perfect.
“Hold on, Bea.”
She doesn’t respond. Most likely, she’s already fallen back asleep.
I compose myself from the hot anxiety mess I am and answer the phone in a casual voice, “Hello?”
“Pipe, Taylor thought I should call you.”
My sinking boulder develops in my stomach.
“Tanner was in an accident last night, so we’re about to head out to the hospital. I didn’t get word until twenty minutes ago. He’s fine though. They kept him overnight to make sure he didn’t have a concussion. So, now, you know, and I’m sure Taylor will be happy with me.” He’s about to disconnect.
My heart pounds in my chest as I think of Tanner lying in a hospital bed, injured from a car accident. The gut-wrenching image makes me call out, “I’ll go with you. Hold on one sec.”
I click over to Bea, “Found him. He’s at the hospital. He’s fine, gotta go.”
“Whatevs. Call me later.” The phone goes silent and I click over to Brad.
Scrambling to my bedroom, I shed my jeans and replace them with yoga pants. If I show up in the clothes from Taylor’s party, Brad might notice and think I was with someone. There’s no way I want to play Twenty Questions with him.
“Okay?” Brad’s voice is curious.
I don’t blame him. Normally, I would go up to see Tanner after he returned. A week ago, I would have played the nonchalant sister role, but there’s no way I’m not going to the hospital. My need to see Tanner and make sure he’s okay is too great. I cross my fingers that Brad doesn’t sense anything about me wanting to go now.
“I want to make sure he’s okay. He’s my friend, too.” I put up a little too much of a fight.
“Fine. We’re about to leave. Meet me downstairs, like now, Pipe.” He hangs up.
A man of few words.
I toss my shirt into the laundry and grab the sweatshirt lying across my chair. Leaving my apartment in a frenzy, I weave my fingers through my hair into a low ponytail.
When Brad and Taylor meet me in the lobby, Taylor sneaks a devilish grin to let me know of her antics. After Brad walks right past me, I mouth, Thank you, to her, making her smile wider. She’s helped me so much in leaving Brad in the dark that I concentrate on the wet asphalt in guilt for prejudging the girl.
“Let’s go, girls!” Brad yells in front of us.
Taylor quickens her steps, and at the same time, I begin to lag. Brad cocks his head when I shuffle my feet to the car, and he taps his foot on the ground.
“You’re the one who wanted to go, so get in the damn car.” He has the door of his Mustang open with the seat already pressed forward for me to climb in the back.
Without saying a word to him, I slide in my seat.
During the ten-minute drive to the hospital, I shoot Tanner another text. If he’s not unconscious, he should have answered my calls and texts from earlier.
By the time we pull into the sparse parking lot, no dings or vibrations have alerted me of any responses from him. Taylor swings her arm through Brad’s as the three of us venture through the sliding doors. After kindly asking the receptionist at the help desk where we need to go, we step single file into the elevator, silence encompassing the confined space.
When the bell dings, I try to show restraint, and I plan on waiting for them to exit first. The doors slide open, but Taylor grips Brad’s wrist to allow me to go first. My feet beg to run to room 346 and push the door open before hopping onto his bed. But I can’t, so my steps steadily increase as my head scans from right and left, looking at each room number. By the time we come upon 344, a jittery excitement speeds my heart rate at the thought of him inside the next room—on a hospital bed, in a gown with nothing underneath.