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“More like black coffee, bitter regrets, and stubborn determination. I’m not a thrill seeker.” Cal snorted, then groaned with pain.
“Oh?” I needed to keep him talking or, at the very least, distracted. A quick glance at the passenger side revealed he was paler, and it wasn’t only his voice that was shaky. His hands trembled as he shifted restlessly in the seat. “Solo diving isn’t a thrill?”
“Choosing to dive solo isn’t a stupid risk. It’s a calculated one. And trust me, no one wants me as a dive buddy. I’m the one who’s the bad risk.”
“Want to tell me about it?” I wanted to know in the worst way, but those cat-backed-into-a-corner vibes were back in a big way.
“Not…now.” Which wasn’t a no, so I’d take the win.
“Fair enough.” As the speed limit decreased on the outskirts of Safe Harbor, I took another look at Cal. “Hanging in there? What’s your pain level?”
“Swear to God, do not make me use a pain scale.” He released a low, tight noise that made my gut clench.
“I hear you. I’ve had enough pain-rating questions over the years to want to throw a blood pressure cuff, but I need you to stay with me. We’re almost there.”
“I’m…awake.”
“Is there someone I should call for you when we get to the clinic? Family? Partner?”
“There’s no one.” He didn’t sound sad as much as matter-of-fact, but that straightforward tone hit me harder than a complaint would have.
“I’m sorry. I couldn’t have gotten through my injuries without my friends and family. I’ll wait while they stitch you up, and I’ll warn Monroe and Knox that you’ll likely need help tonight.”
“I don’t need help.” The slur in his voice called him a liar and made alarm bells ding in my brain. We were behind a slow-moving line of traffic led by a school bus. I alternated between drumming my fingers and glancing over at Cal. A shudder raced through him. “Did you turn the AC up? I’m cold.”
“We’re almost there,” I reassured both of us. As we arrived at the clinic, I bypassed the parking lot to pull even with the emergency bay doors. “Don’t get out yet.”
“Okay.” His eyes fluttered. His lack of argument was terrifying, and I waved frantically to get the attention of the person working the information table near the door. I’d long ago made my peace with most of my limitations, but right then, my inability to bodily carry Cal in made my stomach twist.
“Help,” I called as the young male clerk came to the door. “I’ve got a guy here with a bad gash. Happened out at Foxtail Lake.”
“We’ve got you.” The clerk motioned to a passing transport orderly, and the two of them hustled Cal into a wheelchair. The clerk turned back to me. “We’re taking your friend straight back to be examined. Go park, and we’ll direct you to his room.”
“Okay.” I wasn’t Cal’s friend, wasn’t his anything, really, but hell if I was going to leave him alone. I’d be his temporary friend, at least, whether he wanted it or not.
Chapter Five
Holden
My assessment that angry cats had nothing on Cal was only strengthened by his demeanor in the exam room of the Safe Harbor urgent care center. In fact, my mom’s old, ornery beagle had a better disposition.
“You don’t have to stay,” Cal said for the tenth or maybe twentieth time. I was losing track. But he was also pale enough lying on the gurney that I wasn’t going anywhere. The clinic was overcrowded and understaffed, and I didn’t trust Cal to ring the call button if he felt faint. Hell, I hadn’t known Cal a full day, and already I could tell he could be on the brink of death, angels descending, and he wouldn’t want to trouble the nurses.
I got it. I’d been that guy a time or thirty.
“I know I don’t.” I found the patience for a wide grin. Gesturing with the remote in my hand, I pointed at the TV in the corner. “But this is more cable channels than I have at home.”
I’d made myself useful by scrolling channels for Cal, who had an IV in one arm and heavy bandaging on the other. I clicked away from a cooking show, breezing past an international soccer game, a sports talk show, and landing on some sort of DIY competition.
“See? Here’s the one remaining house-flipping show I haven’t seen.”
“Is everything a joke to you?” Cal snapped, then grimaced, face contorting. The triage doctor had given him a painkiller in his IV, but it clearly wasn’t enough. “Sorry. That was rude.”
“It’s okay. You’re in pain, but truthfully, you’re not the first one to complain I joke too much.” My mom’s face flashed in my mind, followed quickly by a fleet of physical therapists, bosses, and graduate school advisers. Shifting in my chair, I flipped the channel again, this time landing on another reality show. “It serves me well in the classroom to keep my students awake, but sometimes I’m not sure when to dial it back.”
