necessary, but they want to know your next of kin.”
She always hated that question. “Just put my flatmate down. Emma Taylor.”
He blinked at her in surprise, and she shrugged. “I don’t really care. Like you said, they’re not going to need it.” She risked a glance at her hand, just to make sure, and was relieved to see the blood trails down her arm had mostly dried. The bleeding must have stopped, and the pain had faded to a dull ache.
“Good thing I didn’t hit an artery,” she muttered. “Why is it I’ve never had to wait more than five minutes to see my GP and I’m kept waiting ages at the ER?”
“It’s one of the eternal mysteries of the NHS. You’d probably have been better off nicking an artery.”
Chapter Seven
When the nurse escorted Caitlyn to a bay, Spencer’s every instinct shouted at him to go with her, sit beside her and hold her healthy hand while she suffered the ordeal.
She’d waved him away, though, obviously preferring to go through it alone, leaving Spencer in the waiting room to sort through the disparate thoughts swirling through his mind. His planned night of seduction had clearly backfired. This time, instead of Caitlyn injuring him, she’d hurt herself. Was she a complete nutter?
Fuck’s sake, weren’t all women a bit nuts? It was what made them women—that weird, emotional rubbish they all seemed to suffer. He’d never found himself asking whether he should stick around to suffer it with them. At least, not unless there was amazing sex involved.
With Caitlyn, he didn’t know if there would be any sex at all. So why did he think about her all the time? Why put all this effort in just to help her out, especially when he appeared to be doing more harm than good?
Her flinch haunted him, the way she’d instinctively protected herself against a phantom blow. He might’ve bought her story about simply putting other goals above exploring sex when she was a teenager, but not now. Something much worse had happened, something he might not have the time or patience to confront. Did he really want to be part of this?
He scrubbed a hand over his weary face, rubbing his eyes. They throbbed as a headache burrowed through his brain. Maybe he’d developed an allergic reaction to hospitals, or just to this particular hospital since he’d been here twice this month—
Shit! Granddad.
Spencer bolted out of his chair and dug in his pocket for his mobile as he made his way out of the hospital. He’d put his phone on silent when he’d picked Caitlyn up, and now it told him he’d missed three calls from the old man. Hunching his shoulders against the damp air outside, Spencer leaned against the brick hospital wall and called home.
“Spencer! What happened? Is everything all right, son?”
“Yeah, Granddad. Caitlyn had an accident with a wineglass and we’re at A&E. They’re patching her up now.”
His granddad released a deep sigh. “She’ll be okay?”
He sure as hell hoped so. “They took her about a half hour ago, so I should find out soon. Hey, Granddad?”
“Yes, son?”
Spencer swallowed hard. “Could you check that Granny’s picture is okay?”
“It is. I’ve given her a good scrub.”
“Thanks.” He glanced inside, eager to get back in case they’d finished with Caitlyn. “I’d better go. Hopefully we’ll be able to leave soon.”
The two men said goodbye, and Spencer walked back into the waiting room. Just as he was resigning himself to more time in the torture instrument they called a chair, a nurse wheeled Caitlyn into the room. In a wheelchair.
He shot up and rushed across the room. “What happened?”
The nurse smiled. “We gave her something to help with the pain. She’s having a bit of a reaction to it.”
Caitlyn grinned up at him, her eyes sleepy and happy. “Hey. I know you.”
He laughed. “Yes you do. I’m glad you recognize me.”
“’Course I do. You’re on a billboard near my apartment.” Her voice dropped to what
She always hated that question. “Just put my flatmate down. Emma Taylor.”
He blinked at her in surprise, and she shrugged. “I don’t really care. Like you said, they’re not going to need it.” She risked a glance at her hand, just to make sure, and was relieved to see the blood trails down her arm had mostly dried. The bleeding must have stopped, and the pain had faded to a dull ache.
“Good thing I didn’t hit an artery,” she muttered. “Why is it I’ve never had to wait more than five minutes to see my GP and I’m kept waiting ages at the ER?”
“It’s one of the eternal mysteries of the NHS. You’d probably have been better off nicking an artery.”
Chapter Seven
When the nurse escorted Caitlyn to a bay, Spencer’s every instinct shouted at him to go with her, sit beside her and hold her healthy hand while she suffered the ordeal.
She’d waved him away, though, obviously preferring to go through it alone, leaving Spencer in the waiting room to sort through the disparate thoughts swirling through his mind. His planned night of seduction had clearly backfired. This time, instead of Caitlyn injuring him, she’d hurt herself. Was she a complete nutter?
Fuck’s sake, weren’t all women a bit nuts? It was what made them women—that weird, emotional rubbish they all seemed to suffer. He’d never found himself asking whether he should stick around to suffer it with them. At least, not unless there was amazing sex involved.
With Caitlyn, he didn’t know if there would be any sex at all. So why did he think about her all the time? Why put all this effort in just to help her out, especially when he appeared to be doing more harm than good?
Her flinch haunted him, the way she’d instinctively protected herself against a phantom blow. He might’ve bought her story about simply putting other goals above exploring sex when she was a teenager, but not now. Something much worse had happened, something he might not have the time or patience to confront. Did he really want to be part of this?
He scrubbed a hand over his weary face, rubbing his eyes. They throbbed as a headache burrowed through his brain. Maybe he’d developed an allergic reaction to hospitals, or just to this particular hospital since he’d been here twice this month—
Shit! Granddad.
Spencer bolted out of his chair and dug in his pocket for his mobile as he made his way out of the hospital. He’d put his phone on silent when he’d picked Caitlyn up, and now it told him he’d missed three calls from the old man. Hunching his shoulders against the damp air outside, Spencer leaned against the brick hospital wall and called home.
“Spencer! What happened? Is everything all right, son?”
“Yeah, Granddad. Caitlyn had an accident with a wineglass and we’re at A&E. They’re patching her up now.”
His granddad released a deep sigh. “She’ll be okay?”
He sure as hell hoped so. “They took her about a half hour ago, so I should find out soon. Hey, Granddad?”
“Yes, son?”
Spencer swallowed hard. “Could you check that Granny’s picture is okay?”
“It is. I’ve given her a good scrub.”
“Thanks.” He glanced inside, eager to get back in case they’d finished with Caitlyn. “I’d better go. Hopefully we’ll be able to leave soon.”
The two men said goodbye, and Spencer walked back into the waiting room. Just as he was resigning himself to more time in the torture instrument they called a chair, a nurse wheeled Caitlyn into the room. In a wheelchair.
He shot up and rushed across the room. “What happened?”
The nurse smiled. “We gave her something to help with the pain. She’s having a bit of a reaction to it.”
Caitlyn grinned up at him, her eyes sleepy and happy. “Hey. I know you.”
He laughed. “Yes you do. I’m glad you recognize me.”
“’Course I do. You’re on a billboard near my apartment.” Her voice dropped to what
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