Page 17 of Living with Fire
“My—my gir-girlfriend?” he stutters, clearly appalled which causes me to flush again. “Jordan? God, no! Jordan is my sister. I don’t have a girlfriend, and if I did, it definitely wouldn’t be my sister.”
Oh boy. Evidently, I got that wrong. Even though Nate looks disgusted by my interpretation of their relationship, I can’t help the relief that washes over me, though it’s short-lived when I remember that he still didn’t want to hit on me. It shouldn’t bum me out that he doesn’t want to flirt, because I have no business wanting a guy to like me, but it does. It probably hurts worse to know that he’s just not interested.
“This is awkward,” I say with a small laugh. “You two looked like you knew each other, and I just assumed. She seemed a bit protective when you offered your phone.”
“Of you,” he tells me, and I know I look confused when he adds, “She’s your nurse and doesn’t want you to feel uncomfortable, even if she knows me, and knows I’m harmless. While you’re in this bed, you’re her first priority.”
I never thought of it like that, but it makes sense and I nod. “Is that also why she gave me clothes?”
He laughs and runs his fingers through his hair before reclaiming his spot in the chair beside the bed. “I think that was actually more for my benefit. But I ruined all her plans of playing matchmaker when I offered you my phone.”
“Pardon?” I ask, tilting my head to the side.
“She thought if you didn’t have anyone to call, I would swoop in and ask you out for coffee or something,” he says, an amused smile dancing on his lips. “But don’t worry, I set her straight.”
He doesn’t elaborate, and I don’t ask because I don’t want to be embarrassed or let down any more than I already am by him not wanting to hit on me, so I just nod. “Thanks.”
It’s then that the opening to the curtain is pushed to one side and a man in a white coat steps in. “Ready to get out of here?” he asks, and I nod my head at Dr. Verdeem. He takes notice of Nate and smiles. “Nate! How you doin’?”
“Good,” Nate says, standing up.
The two of them shake hands and exchange a couple more pleasantries before Nate turns back to me and smiles, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. The swirling blue looks sad, and I wonder if it’s for the same reason I’m feeling it. Our time together has come to an end.
“It was nice talking to you, Savanna. I’m glad you’re okay.” He pauses and then adds, “Maybe I’ll see you around.”
“Yeah, maybe,” I say, offering a smile, but I don’t for a second believe it.
There’s an awkward moment where we both just look at each other, and I don’t think either one of us wants this to be goodbye. Maybe that’s just on my end because he finally gives another nod and turns to leave while I look down at my lap.
“Nate?” I say and he turns, perking up hopefully. “Your phone.”
“Right. Thanks. Wouldn’t want to forget that.”
He’s back to the side of the bed a second later, and I hold the phone out to him, our fingers brushing as he takes it from me. There’s a crackle between us, and I see in his eyes that he feels it like I do, the heat spreading from my fingers all the way to my lower belly. It’s another moment before he blinks rapidly, as if to clear his mind, and then he’s gone, leaving me with the doctor.
I didn’t see Nate again, but I saw Jordan on my way out of the hospital. I thanked her for the scrubs and flip flops, promising to return them, but she waved me off, telling me not to worry about it. When I looked at her that last time, I realized I was an idiot for not seeing the family resemblance between them from the start. They have the exact same eyes, noses, and their smiles are practically identical, especially when it reaches their eyes.
It didn’t matter, though, because knowing they were siblings didn’t change the fact that Nate didn’t want to hit on me. I have to remember that’s a good thing, not bad.
Taking a breath of fresh air, I close my eyes and savor the feeling as it travels down my sore throat and into my rough lungs. Between the smoke and the hospital air, I’ll never take fresh air for granted again.
Wearily, I glance around at my surroundings and heave a sigh, watching a few cars travel by on the road in front of me. I realized after being discharged that I probably should have hung out as long as I could in the hospital because I have no idea what I’m going to do with myself now that I’m out. Deciding to figure things out on my own would have been swell if I’d actually come up with a plan while I was sitting in the hospital bed.
My eyes are heavy and my body sags with exhaustion after being up all night and having all the adrenaline wrung from it. Though I dozed a little in the hospital bed, there was always something going on, or someone checking on me, that didn’t allow me to sleep.
Now, sitting on a bench in a park across from the hospital, I force myself not to lay down and close my eyes right here. Wrapping my arms around my knees, I turn my head to the side and rest my cheek against it, sucking in my bottom lip.
Not only do I not know if I can get into my apartment, but I also have no phone, no money, no identification, no clothes, no car, no nothing. Even if I had my car, I don’t have my keys to get into it, which really sucks because I have a few things stored in there in case I ever need to bail on short notice. I suppose I could break into it, though short of breaking a window I haven’t a clue how to do that effectively.
But running through my options, I’m certain I’m going to need to do something I don’t want to do if I can’t get into my apartment. And geez, that’s assuming I even have an apartment to get into. I have no idea how bad the fire got or whether it reached my place. Shit. If it got into my place and all my stuff is destroyed, what the hell am I going to do?
I’ve been in bad situations before, but the more I think about this, the more screwed I realize I could be.
It has the threat of tears stinging the backs of my eyes. Maybe I should call Devin. Or I could try Connor, my other brother. While Devin is the more responsible one, Connor is the one that’ll offer less judgement. Besides Maddie, he’s always been my secret keeper.
Thinking of the three of them back home has a tear sliding down my cheek. My heart aches with how much I miss them right now. There would be so much comfort in a phone call to them. Probably for both sides. I can only imagine that they’re worried about me, and after the last couple of days, that worry would be more warranted than ever.
Besides, what else am I going to do with nothing but the clothes on my back that don’t even belong to me?