“Um…I don’t know her name. She’s really skinny and has long brown hair; she’s cute. She was wearing jeans and a white tank top.”
I nodded. I knew who she was talking about. “Jules. She has a thing for Cash, but he’s not interested,” I said, shaking my head. I pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant; it was a small steakhouse that was just outside of Nashville.
“Oh! I heard about this place. Old Mr. Deen said they have really great steaks here.”
She started to get out, but I held her hand, mumbling a soft “wait for me.” Hey, I may not have had a girlfriend before, but I know what the fuck to do when you’re dating. My mom would kick my ass if I treated any woman wrong.
“Thanks,” she said softly, pulling down her dress. I grabbed her hand when we got inside the restaurant. They sat us at a small table in the back near a large window with a view of the forest beyond. “This is really nice,” she said, her eyes coming back to me. The waiter came over to take our order; we talked about town while we ate, we talked about her store Temptations, and I told her about the construction business and the new contract that we got. Everything with her was easy. I have never met a woman who I could laugh with and talk to about anything. I knew with her, her interest had nothing to do with money or my family name. I looked across the table, noticing her face has become red.
“You don’t look too good, baby.”
"I don't think you’re supposed to say that out loud," Liz said from across the table, a small smile on her lips.
"No, baby. I mean, you look red and puffy; are you allergic to anything?"
"I never was before." She opened her bag, pulling out a small compact and held it in front of her face. "What the hell?" she mumbled, turning her face right, then left.
"Let’s go. We can stop somewhere and get you some Benadryl; are you breathing okay?" I looked around for the waiter, trying to call him over.
"Yeah, but my mouth’s starting to feel a little itchy." She laughed, "Don't even say anything,"
"I won't," I chuckled, finally catching the waiter’s attention. He made his way over to us and I got my card back. Sliding it in my pocket and standing, I pulled out Liz’s chair. Her face was now breaking out in hives and my concern was starting to grow, so I picked her up, carrying her bridal-style out of the restaurant. When we got to the front door, I hurried to my car. Liz tucked her face into my neck; I was sure she could feel that it was swollen. I kissed her hair and placed her in the passenger seat, making sure to buckle her in. “I'm gonna take you to the hospital."
"No, please, I just need some Benadryl and I’ll be fine," she said on a wheeze, and I knew that she wasn’t fine. I pressed the gas, and once I reached the emergency room entrance, I slammed the car in park, ran around to the passenger’s side, and ignored the guy yelling not to park there. I pulled Liz into my arms. She passed out after two minutes in the car. I started running into the hospital; a nurse saw us and opened the door right away. I laid Liz on the bed, and then there was a ton of commotion around us.
I told them what she ate at dinner, and that she said she had never been allergic before. The doc gave her a shot and told me that it shouldn't take long for it to start working and for us to see some results. Looking down at her small body in that bed, my heart started beating out of my chest. I couldn't think of a time when I had been so fucking scared. I ran my hands over my hair and face. I kissed her forehead, holding her hand. I called her mom to tell her what was going on; she said she and George would drive back from Alabama tonight, but it would take a few hours for them to get into town. I called Mike to let him know that she wouldn't be home, in case he got concerned. I hadn't expected a lecture, or the safety of my balls being threatened. I sent my mom and brothers a text, letting them know what was going on. They all loved Liz and were worried; I told them I had it and that there was nothing anyone could do. By the time I got off the phone, some of redness had reduced, and the swelling had gone down. I talked to the doctor about what happened; he said it could have been anything, but that she needed to be tested. He prescribed an Epipen, along with medication.
“Her breathing is now back to normal,” the doctor said. “All her vitals are great. Now we just need her to wake up so she can sign some papers.” I nodded, watching him walk off. I went to her bedside; running my hand down her face, pushing back her hair, her eyes started to flutter and I hold my breath. When I finally saw her beautiful green eyes, I let out the breath I was holding. “Hey, baby.” I said softly, bending and putting my mouth to her forehead. “You scared the shit out of me.”
“What happened?” she asked; I can hear the strain in her voice. I stood, reaching over for the pitcher of water next to the bed. I filled a cup, grabbed the straw, and held it for her while she took a sip.
“You had an allergic reaction to something you ate at dinner. The doctor said that you need to get tested to see what caused the reaction. He also prescribed you an Epipen so that if it happens again, you can take the shot right away.”
“I’ve never been allergic to anything before.” Her voice was quiet, tears started to fill her eyes.
“Hey, now, no crying. You’re okay, I…” Jesus, I was going to say I love you, but I don’t, do I? Shit, I do. I fucking love her. I swallowed, looking down at her; it was too soon. I knew that it would happen, but it was too soon; my stomach was in knots, and I felt sick.
“Are you okay?” Looking concerned, she lifted her hand to my cheek. I was not okay, but I would be. I shook my head, grabbed her hand from my face, brought it to my mouth, and kissed her palm.
“Just worried, baby. I'm going to go let the doctor know you’re awake.”
“Okay,” she said quietly, laying her head back down on the pillow. After I found the doctor, he talked to Liz about seeing a specialist, and then went on to explain how to use the Epipen, and what she should do if something like this happened again. By the time we were pulling out of the hospital, it was after midnight. Liz was knocked out the minute I sat her in the car. Pulling up in front of my house, I carried Liz inside. She didn’t even stir when I took off her dress and put one of my tees on her. I covered her up, and then went to check around the house to make sure all the doors and windows were locked. I took off my clothes, left on boxers that I normally would have forgone, and then climbed into bed, pulling Liz into me.
Bringing me back to the present, my fingers flex on Liz’s ass in my hand. I look down at her; she’s still sleeping, and I don’t want to move, but need to get up and call my brothers to let them know that I’ll be in late. My cell phone is in my jeans that I had on yesterday, and they’re across the room on a chair. Like my thoughts make it happen, my phone starts ringing. Liz jolts, and then mumbles something, snuggling deeper into my side. I smile, slide out from under her, walk across the room, and grab my phone out of my pocket. “Shit,” I whisper, looking at the screen. Mom is on the display. “One second, Mom,” I whisper into the phone. I pull on a pair of sweats, holding the phone between my ear and shoulder. I look at the bed; Liz is still out, but now she’s dragged my pillow to her front and is wrapped around it. I bend, kiss her hair, walk out of the room, and make my way down the hall into the kitchen. I bought my house two years ago. It was the only property I found with the acreage I wanted. I like the house; it’s a fixer-upper with four bedrooms and 2500 sq. feet of ranch-style features. The kitchen is small, the living room is huge, the bedrooms are a good size, and it has a killer basement. Eventually, I'm going to tear down the kitchen’s wall and make it an open-concept floor plan. But I'm taking my time, doing little-by-little. “Hey, Mom,” I say into the phone, pulling out stuff to make coffee.
“Hey, honey. How’s Liz? Did she get home okay yesterday?”
“She’s still with me, Mom.”
“She’s still with you? It’s seven-thirty in the morning.” If it wasn’t for the concern in her voice, I would have laughed. “What’s going on, Trevor Mayson? So help me—if you hurt that girl...”
“Jesus, Mom, we’re dating. I took her to the hospital last night. I didn’t want her out of my sight, so I brought her here rather than digging through her shit to find her keys to stay at her place.”
“Oh…okay,” she pauses, probably stunned that Liz and me are together.
“Thanks for letting me know where your loyalties lie, Mom.”
“Oh, stop. She’s a good girl.” I know my mom is rolling her eyes; we have always been close. I see movement out of the corner of my eye. I turn my head to see Liz standing in the doorway. Her hair is all over the place; my shirt is too big for her—about the same length as her dress from last night—and she looks adorable.
“Hey, baby. How are you feeling?” She shrugs, looking at the coffee pot. I can tell she’s still half-asleep. “Come here.” I say softly, holding up my arm. She stumbles to me, rubbing her face into my chest, and I kiss her hair. “Did you sleep okay?” I ask quietly, and she nods her head. Then I hear my mom sob into the phone. “Mom, you okay?”
“Perfect.” She pauses a second. “Great, I’ll let you go and call your brothers to tell them you’re going to be late to the site.”
“Yeah, alright.”
“I'm happy for you, honey.” She says quickly before hanging up. I sigh, tossing my phone on the counter. Mom’s going to be flipping out. I lift Liz’s face, checking her over. There is no swelling or redness; she looks much better, but not knowing what her reaction was from still worries me.
“You look a lot better.”
“Why am I here?” she asks, then bites her lip like she didn’t mean to ask.
I want to say, “Because this is where you will be from now on.” But I know better. Plus, right now, she has her body pressed against mine, and I didn’t even have to corner her. “You were really sick last night. I didn’t want you to be alone.”
“Oh,” she mumbles. I smile, bending my head to touch my mouth to hers. When I pull away, her eyes slowly open. I love that look.
I pull her closer; both my hands go to her lower back above her ass. I pull up my tee. She shivers as my fingers run along her smooth skin. “You need to call the specialist and set up an appointment for as soon as possible while I make us something to eat,” I say. Her eyes narrow, then she scrunches her nose up, shaking her head.
“It’s too early for you to start being bossy.” I smirk, pulling her closer and noticing her breath smells like mint.
“Did you brush your teeth?”
“I found a spare toothbrush in your cabinet and used it. I hope that’s ok. I mean, you had like a hundred, so I didn’t think you would notice.” She smirks, and my gut clenches.
“My friend Frank is a dentist.”
“Uh-huh.” She shrugs, her eyes going over my shoulder to the coffee pot. She’s thinking I'm full of shit and that when a chick stays over, I offer them a toothbrush in the morning, but it’s not why I have them. I might be a dick, but I don’t lie.
