Plain Jayne (8 page)

“Doc!”

Standing in front of her table, Dr. Scott wrapped her in a long, tight hug, then kissed her cheek and held her at arm’s length. “So good to have you back.”

“When did you get here?” Out of his grasp, she sank into her chair, then pointed at one for him to take.

“Little while ago.” He leaned closer, the minty smell of toothpaste on his breath. “I got stuck talking to T-Squared by the door.”

Almost completely gray now, his hair gave him that distinguished look some men lucked into, and it didn’t hurt that he was a handsome man to start with.

“Is Mrs. Scott with you?”

Doc shook his head. “Too loud for her. I’m only here to have a dance with my Jaynie, then I’m gone.”

Jayne eyed him carefully, taking in the tiny smile tipping his mouth and the way his hazel eyes, so much like Nick’s, twinkled.

“Please tell me you didn’t …” She tried to push her chair back, but it butted up against the boards just as the song’s first chords blasted through the speakers. “Doc!”

Dr. Scott wasn’t listening to a word she said. He simply took her hand and tugged her out to the middle of the floor where a few others had already lined up. Neither Nick nor Carter was among them. No, the two of them stood off to the side, grinning like the idiots they were.

When her glares didn’t seem to have any effect on them, Jayne shrugged and tucked her thumbs through her belt loops. Step, cross, step, together, tap. She couldn’t remember Nick’s girlfriend’s name, but she could remember every step to the most obnoxious line dance ever choreographed. Every step, every clap, and every single jump.

Go figure.

Lines of people crossed the floor, everyone laughing at themselves or their neighbors who kept bumping into them. It was impossible to pretend she wasn’t having fun, especially with Doc singing at the top of his lungs beside her.

By the time the song ended, his face was flushed and his normally tidy hair was mussed, but the way he smiled at Jayne made all that jumping around worth the extra pounding now vibrating inside her skull.

“Thanks, Jaynie,” he laughed, leading her back to the table. “I think I’m good until next year’s Stomp now.”

“God, I hope so.” She pressed her hand to her forehead in a futile attempt to stop the swaying.

A quick kiss on the cheek, a one-armed hug, and he started toward the door, calling back over his shoulder.

“Oh, and I told those two knuckleheads to keep their comments to themselves or I’d kick their asses into next Tuesday.”

And that, right there, was one of the many reasons Jayne loved Dr. Warren Scott.

She slumped onto her chair, what was left of her beer in one hand, forehead in the other.

Nick frowned at her from where he sat with Lisa and another couple. He started to get up, but Jayne waved him off. She’d expected that last Tylenol to pack a punch, but all it had done so far was wave its fist at the pounding in her head. Granted, she wasn’t doing herself any favors by sitting in a rink with blaring music and hundreds of people, but she’d rather put up with the pain than have to look into Nick’s angry eyes as he gave her shit for not telling him she’d hurt herself.

The DJ shifted his musical choices from country to classic stuff from the seventies and eighties, which seemed to revitalize the crowd. This was Jayne’s kind of music, and Carter even managed to fight his way through a wall of blond babes long enough to drag Jayne out on the floor a couple times. Nick only danced with Linda.

Lisa!

After the last round with Carter, Jayne started off the floor when the first few notes came over the speakers. She froze in mid-step, searching the crowd for Nick.

It was her song. He’d “given” it to her for her sixteenth birthday, for the title more than anything else, and it had become an unspoken rule that this was not just her song, it was their song.

Where was he? Had he forgotten? She stretched on tiptoe, craned her neck … and there he was, striding toward her with his mouth tipped up in one of his goofy grins.

It’s a little bit funny this feeling inside …

Jayne took a couple steps toward him, feeling her smile all the way down to her toes, then stopped. LindaLisa grabbed Nick’s hand, tugged him back, and said something Jayne had no hope of hearing. He shook his head, motioned toward Jayne, and even took a step in her direction, but LindaLisa pulled him back and smiled up at him with nothing short of pure sunlight.

He stared at Jayne for a long moment, undecided, until she finally shrugged, sighed, and waved him off.
It was just a song
.

Maybe if she repeated it enough times she could convince herself that was true, and maybe—just maybe—she might be able to close the giant gaping hole that had suddenly opened in her stomach.

And you can tell everybody this is your song …

Apparently, Sir Elton, it wasn’t her song anymore.

Back in her chair, she closed her eyes, chugged her beer, and prayed the alcohol would help ease the pain that somehow connected the cavern in her belly to the pounding in her head.

“He’s an idiot.” Carter stood in front of her, his hand out, offering her a smile. “Come on, Jay, let’s dance.”

“Thanks, but I think I better sit this one out.”

“You okay?” Carter twisted a chair around and straddled it so he faced her. “You’re
lookin’ a little pale.”

“Just a headache.” And since the beer she’d swilled hadn’t even begun to ease the pain in her head or her stomach, she tipped another Tylenol out of her handy Tic Tac container and chased it with another swig.

“What are you taking? And why the hell are you chasing it with beer?”

“Just some Tylenols I stole out of Nick’s cupboard.”

The floor was packed with people, yet every time she looked up, there was Nick watching her over LindaLisa’s perfectly coiffed head.

“Hey.” Carter nudged her foot with his own. “Focus, please. What kind of Tylenols?”

After another second, she finally dragged her eyes away from the dance floor and grinned at Carter. “Big ones.”

She tried to laugh it off, but he just held out his hand, fingers wiggling, until she finally sighed and gave him the container.

“Jeez, Jayne, how many have you had?”

“One at Nick’s, and one after Dickie twirled me around like a Tilt-A-Whirl, so two.” She started to nod, then stopped. “Oh, and the one I just took. So three.”

She managed another swallow of her beer before Carter wrenched the plastic cup out of her hand, sending what was left all over her lap.

Jayne sprung to her feet, teetered, and sat back down hard.

“You’ve had
three
?” He tipped her chin up so he could stare into her eyes. “How long have you had it?”

“The beer?”

“The headache.”

“Just since … I dunno.” A murky fog began to claw its way through her brain, bringing with it the first sign of relief. Finally. And it only took three giant Tylenols and the better part of three beers. Good things happened in threes, right?

“Jayne. Look at me.”

She did what he said, but had to blink a few times to bring his face into focus. His fault; he was so close, their noses almost touched.

“What happened? You were fine at the store.” He lifted her eyelids, one at a time, then pressed his fingers against her wrist. Oh, right. Carter wasn’t just Carter. He was Dr. Carter
Scott, pediatrician extraordinaire. Funny.

“It’s nothing.” The growing fog slowed everything down; blinking, breathing, talking. “I was reaching for a box, then Nick called … and then …”

“Then what?”

“What? Oh. Um, I stepped on a rat.” It was getting harder and harder to keep her eyes open. “Little bugger scared the crap outta me … think I … um … I jumped.”

“You jumped?”

“Mm-hmm. High.” She tried to force her eyes to open a little wider, but finally gave up and just let them close. “Like Olympic high-jump high.”

“What did you land on? Jayne. Look at me.”

“You said that already.” She tipped her face up to his, and even managed to open her eyes again, but that wasn’t enough for Carter. Next thing she knew, he was on his feet leaning over her.

“Did you hit your head?” He set his fingers against her scalp and walked them slowly over the top of her head.

“Your eyes are
really
dark,” she said. “Like brown M&M’s.”

“Does this hurt?” He pressed a little harder above her ears.

“Nick’s eyes are more like … spring, don’t you think?”

“Jayne—how hard did you hit your head? What else hurts?”

“He always smells good. D’you ever notice that?”

Over the top again, then down the back. “What about—?”

“Ow!” She jerked her head away from his fingers, but by that time Carter had dropped his hands.

“Nice goose egg. Did you at least ice it?”

“No time. Nick already had his angry eyes on.” She blinked again, slowly. “Can I have my drink back?”

“No. You’ve had enough.” He took her elbow and tugged her to her feet just as Nick walked up. His face, so beautiful and friendly looking when he wasn’t scowling, was set in a full-on scowl. Not so beautiful or friendly now.

“What’s wrong?” His gaze shifted from Carter to Jayne, who tried to get her eyes to move from him to Carter, but it was too much effort.

“Song’s not over,” she said.

“Yes it is,” Carter muttered.

He must have been lying because Jayne could still hear it even after the dance floor cleared.

“Did you know she fell?” Carter sounded angry, but that must have been the fog in Jayne’s brain because Carter didn’t get angry. Nick got angry.

“She said she was fine.”

“Right,” Carter snorted. “Does she look fine?”

“What’s a matter with how I look?”

“Nothing. You’re gorgeous.” Carter steered Jayne through the crowd, but the toes of her shoes kept catching on the floor, and the door was so far away. “Give me your keys, we’re going home.”

“I don’t have keys,” she said. “Could we sit down for a second?”

“Not you.” He wrapped his arm around her waist and held out his hand to someone … oh, there. Nick. And Linda.

“You stole my song.”

“I did what?” There was a large wet stain down the front of Linda’s dress. Nick’s fault. He should have warned her.

“My song. It’s ‘Your Song.’ ”

“I don’t have a song.” Linda’s perfectly wrinkle free forehead puckered.

“Yes you do. You took my song.” Every breath loosened Jayne’s muscles more until it became harder and harder to stand, never mind hold her head up.

“I don’t know what you mean.” If she didn’t stop frowning like that, she was going to have permanent wrinkles on that perfect skin. “What’s your song?”

“I just said it’s ‘Your Song.’ ” A mild buzzing started in Jayne’s head. “But now it’s your song—”

“Right, and who’s on first.” Carter adjusted his grip around her waist. “Just ignore her, Lisa, she’s a little out of it. Nick, keys.”

“Nick.” Jayne blinked past Linda to try and focus on his face. Oooh, he had his worried eyes on. Funny how he could change them from angry to worried to … whatever. Sort of like Mr. Potato Head.

“What’s wrong with her?” Worried voice, too.

“Besides the fact she’s hopped up on Coronas and T3s, I’m guessing she has a mild concussion.”

“How the … shit.”

“Do you need our help getting her home?” Linda’s voice. Linda the party planner. Linda the quiet one with the pretty face, the perfect hair, and the big wet beer stain on her pretty summer dress.

“Thanks, but we’ll be fine.” Carter stopped walking long enough to adjust his grip on Jayne. “Hopefully she won’t remember any of this in the morning.”

“Any of what?” Jayne frowned. “Oooh, Carter, I didn’t know you had angry eyes, too.”

“I save them for the biggest idiots I know.”

“Mmm.” She nodded slowly, then frowned as his words settled in her brain. “
Me?
I’m the biggest idiot?”

“No, sweetheart, not you.” Carter smiled at her, but it wasn’t a happy smile. Even in her present fog, she could tell that. “Nick is.”

“Um, Carter.” Jayne blinked, focused, and tried to whisper. “He’s right beside you.”

“He knows.” Why did Nick’s voice sound so weird? She would’ve expected him to be mad that Carter just called him an idiot, but instead, it sounded like he agreed. Boy oh boy, the fog in her head was really skewing things. “I’ll drive.”

“You’ve done enough, just give me the keys.” As soon as Nick handed them over, Carter was moving again, so Jayne had no choice but to stagger along with him or be dragged as he called back over his shoulder. “Go dance with Lisa.”

Linda’s voice again; soft, feminine, and sweet. “Come on, Nick. Carter’ll look after her.”

“Okay, bye!” Jayne lifted her arm to wave back at them, but it was as though her bones and muscles had been turned into cooked spaghetti. “She seems nice.”

“Yeah, she’s great,” Carter muttered. “Do I need to carry you?”

Next thing she knew, Carter had her belted into Nick’s truck and they were pulling out of the parking lot. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back to rest, but Carter pinched her arm.

“Ouch!”

“Are you sure you only took three?”

It seemed to take her a long time to focus, but she counted back again, slowly, and
nodded. “Yeah. Is that bad?”

“It’s not good, but I guess it’s better than four.” His voice was sounding farther and farther away. “I can’t believe you didn’t thunder in before now.”

“Nah. I’m tough,” she muttered. “I’m … just … so … tired.”

“No shit, Sherlock.” His choking laughter was the last thing she heard.

When she opened her eyes again, it was because something kept shoving her. Wrong. Not something. Someone.

Carter.

“Where—?” She was on her bed at Nick’s house, a bag of frozen peas on the pillow beside her, and Carter yanking her jeans down. “What the hell are you doing?”

She jerked upright, instantly regretted it and had to grab her head with both hands to keep it from exploding off her neck.

“Relax, Jay,” he smirked. “You’re wearing half your beer and you can’t get into bed like that.”

“Stop it—I can do it myself.” With more effort than she’d admit, Jayne managed to pull her jeans off, thankful her T-shirt was good and long. Carter propped her up, made her drink some water, then checked her pupils and felt around her head again until she swatted his hands away.