Presently Perfect (Perfect #3) (35 page)

Never taking my eyes off Tweet, I said, “Brooke can you give us a minute, please.”

“No, I can’t,” she snapped.

“Please.”

“Noah, we were supposed to have this place all to ourselves through New Year’s Eve.”

Turning on my heels, I walked toward Brooke, grabbed her arm, and dragged her down the hall into one of the bedrooms.

“Noah…”

I raised my index finger, indicating for her to stop talking long enough for me to close the door. The click of the door was like a starting gun, causing Brooke’s mouth to take off running.

“I’m sorry she’s dying, but she’s not going to use that to come between us and ruin our time here. The world does not revolve around Amanda Kelly.”

My world does.

“Don’t talk about her that way.”

“I’m not trying to be a bitch. It’s just… this is our time. No worries about roommates or your mom walking in on us…”

“That’s not the reason I’m staying here.” I growled, my fingers linking behind my neck.

I hadn’t planned on telling Brooke I was spending the next few weeks at Carter’s. I failed to mention that to Carter, however, who had let it slip. Brooke assumed it was a surprise I had planned, so that we could have time alone. Carter must have been the one to give her the key to the place. I wasn’t thinking Brooke would show up when I brought Tweet here. When Tweet was involved, my mind only focused on her and no one else.

“Then why are you staying here?”

“Brooke… I can’t do this right now. I need to get back to…”

“
Her!
” She lurched forward.

“She needs me.”

I turned and reached for the doorknob when Brooke’s words stopped me.

“I need you.” There was a slight quiver in her voice.

I leaned forward, resting my head on the door. “Brooke, why are you with me?”

“That’s a stupid question.”

“It’s not stupid. It’s pretty simple, actually.”

“Because I love you.”

“Why? I’m a horrible boyfriend.”

“No you’re not.”

“We don’t have a lot in common or even know each other very well.” My voice was low.

“Opposites attract. And what do you mean we don’t know each other?”

“Who’s my favorite band?”

“What?”

“My favorite band, who is it?”

“Um… Nsync.”

“You don’t know me at all.”

“I know you’re smart, hot, and going to be a doctor one day. That’s all that matters, not some stupid group.”

“You like the idea of me more than you like me. That’s not fair to either of us.”

Twisting the knob, I flung the door open and headed down the hall. Once I reached the main room, it was empty. Tweet was gone.

Fuck!

I grabbed my phone and texted her.

Me:
I’m sorry. Where are you?

The sound of Brooke’s heels clicked across the hardwood floors as she walked up behind me.

“I don’t know what you’re thinking, but you will not break up with me right before Christmas. I’ve put too much time into this relationship. You promised you’d spend Christmas day with me and I refuse to be humiliated just because I don’t know the name of your stupid favorite band.”

She jerked open the front door and stomped out, never looking back.

Happy fucking holidays to one and all.

The knot in my stomach twisted tighter as beads of sweat formed across my forehead. I weaved in and out of traffic, inching closer to the hospital at a snail’s pace. Tweet’s surgery was scheduled for 7 a.m. and I was sitting in downtown Charleston on Calhoun Street, only blocks away from the hospital at 6:27 a.m. If cars didn’t start moving soon, I planned to abandon my truck and haul ass the four blocks to get to her before she went to the OR. I flipped on my flashers and laid on the horn a couple of times, hoping people would get a clue and let me pass. Finally, whatever had caused the congestion let up and cars started moving forward.

Street parking in downtown was almost nonexistent, so I didn’t bother looking. Instead, I drove straight to the parking deck. There were two main hospitals within a few blocks of each other along with several doctor offices in this area. Crowds of people were already hustling to work and appointments. Rather than wait on the elevator I took the stairs, two at a time, and flew across the street into the main entrance of MUSC, I was glad that I had been working here since the summer. Because the place was huge and easy to get lost in, I already knew the layout, so I headed straight to the surgery floor. My heart thumped into my throat the closer I got. I checked my watch: 6:45.

Shit!

More than likely, Tweet was already back in the holding area getting prepped. We both agreed to shelve any discussion about what happened the other day at the condo. In the grand scheme of things, it wasn’t a priority at the moment. Tweet getting better was our focus. Last night I tried to talk her into letting me ride with them to the hospital this morning, but she said no. Just because she had to be here at the ungodly hour of 5 am, there was no reason for both of us to suffer. Tweet wasn’t a morning person and she wasn’t allowed to have her Diet Pepsi before surgery, so I knew she was helping me dodge a bullet by having me hang back and come in later.

I skidded around the corner into the waiting area at 6:48 am. The place was practically deserted, no sign of the Kellys anywhere.

I landed in front of the admit desk where a blank-faced woman, who looked to be about twenty-five, sat, tapping furiously on her keyboard.

“Good morning,” I said, between gasps of air.

Never looking up, her tone was flat when she asked, “May I help you?”

“I’m here to see Amanda Kelly.”

Ms.
Friendly
clicked something on her monitor. “She’s already gone back for prep.”

“Have they taken her to the operating room yet?”

“Sir, I’m not allowed to give out that information in accordance with HIPPA regulations.”

“Sorry. It’s just… I really need to see her before she goes in for surgery.”

“Even if she were still in the holding area, they only let family go back to see the patient.”

“I’m her brother.”

Her gaze stayed focused on the monitor as she continued clicking.

“Family members are instructed to leave the holding area twenty minutes prior to scheduled surgery in order for the staff to do final prep of the patient. Final prep is already in progress for 7 am surgeries.”

Damn, she was hardcore. I angled my head trying to get a glimpse of her name tag.

“Maryann…”

The sound of her name caused her head to pop up and she finally looked at me.

My eyebrows shot up into my forehead as I jerked back in surprise. “Wow!”

Her flat expression turned to concern. “What?”

“You have the biggest and brightest blue eyes I have ever seen.”

Concern melted away, replaced by soft eyes and a huge toothy grin. “They’re actually cerulean, overlapping into the azure hue on the color spectrum. People mistake them for blue all the time, though.”

“I don’t know anything about the color spectrum, but they are off the charts on the gorgeous meter.” The side of my mouth cocked up into a smirk while I gave her a wink.

She glanced at the computer and then back at me. “So she’s your sister?”

“Yep.” I nodded.

Maryann reached for a Post-it note, scribbled on it, and handed it to me with a smile.

I looked down at the paper, noticing two things written on it.

“The first number is your sister’s room.”

“Thanks, Maryann.” I took a step back away from the desk.

“And the second number is mine.” She giggled, shrugging her shoulders. “I work ‘til five, Monday through Friday.”

I tapped my temple with the corner of the note, as I backed farther away. “Good to know. I’ll keep that info in mind.”

I tossed one more wink in her direction, turned, and went searching for Tweet.

My hand was on the doorknob to room three when a stern voice stopped me. I looked up to see a pocket-sized, gray-haired nurse walking toward me with a determined expression.

“Young man, you can’t go in there now. She’s about to go back to surgery.”

“I’m her brother.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

She didn’t seem like a flirter, so I gave her the most pathetic sorrowful look I could muster.

“She’s my only sister. I’ll only stay a second.”

“We’re on a strict schedule. You should have been here earlier.”

“I got caught in traffic.”

The door opened slightly and a guy wearing scrubs appeared. I assumed he was the anesthesiologist since they were usually the last doctors to see the patient before heading into the OR.

“He can come in for a few minutes,” he said to Nurse Tweet-blocker.

Blowing out a sigh of relief, I smiled at the doctor in appreciation. Nudging past the nurse, my smile widened at her, before entering the room.

Tweet’s face lit up at the sight of me. She looked so small on the stretcher, covered in a pile of white sheets and a blanket.

“I just gave her some medicine, so she’s pretty loopy,” the doctor explained.

“Thanks.”

He left the room, closing the door behind him, as I moved toward the stretcher and sat next to Tweet.

The medicine was in full effect. Her eyes were glassy and unfocused, but still gorgeous. I lifted my hand to the side of her face and let my fingertips trail down her cheek and over her jaw.

“Hey, Tweet. How are you feeling?”

“Gooood.” Her head wobbled slightly from side-to-side, causing me to chuckle.

Wasted Tweet was adorable.

“I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner. There was an accident and I was stuck in traffic.”

“That’s alright, my brother. It’s all good. You’re here now. Grab my clothes and let’s go.” She grasped the edge of the sheets and sat up, bringing us face-to-face.

I placed my hand on top of hers. “Tweet, you can’t leave right now.”

Her eyes narrowed and a crooked grin slowly took over her lips. “You wanna hook up?” She leaned toward me like she was about to tell me a secret. “This gown has easy access and I got nothing on underneath it.”

My gaze inadvertently dropped down, getting an eyeful of Tweet’s chest through the flimsy hospital gown. I swallowed hard and forced my eyes up to hers.

We stared, not saying a word, exchanging
I love yous
in our own way
.

The door abruptly opened, startling both of us. Nurse Tweet-blocker appeared. Her expression a little less harsh than when we first met. I wanted to lean forward and give Tweet a quick kiss, but opted for squeezing her hand instead before I stood up. The nurse walked around to the back of the stretcher, unlocked it, and pushed it toward the door.

It was time.

“Nurse Sarah, has anyone ever told you, you were a buzz kill?” Tweet slurred.

The nurse and I both laughed.

“I’ve been called worse,” she said.

Tweet’s head lolled from side-to-side, as she raised her arm, waving it around in an attempt to point at me. “This is my Noah. Isn’t he hot?”

“He’s very handsome,” the nurse responded, smiling at me.

“He’s an awesome kisser too. His tongue tastes like thin mints. He kissed my thigh under the dinner table with our parents sitting there. Hey Noah! You remember when you touched my boob-bahs… boobesses… booob-aaayz… that’s a really funny word,” she slurred.

“Tweet, I don’t think the nurse cares about any of that.” I interrupted, shoving my hands in my pockets.

“It wasn’t his fault Nurse Buzz-kill. He accidentality touched my boob-aaayz.”

The nurse took one step toward me. “I thought you were her brother?” She glanced between Tweet and I, then a flash of recognition appeared in her eyes.

“We’re a very close family,” I said.

I got a knowing look from the nurse before she stepped back behind Tweet’s stretcher and pushed her out the door.

I stood in the hallway, staring as the stretcher moved farther away from me. The sound of the rubber wheels squeaking along the sterile floor bounced off the walls. The urge to run after her and make all this go away was overwhelming. My purpose in life was to love and protect my girl, but I was completely useless to her when she needed me the most.