I figured he needed some time to calm down before he came home. So I waited and waited, and eventually, I fell asleep clutching my cell phone to my chest, curled in a ball on the sofa. Morning came and it became apparent he didn’t just need a little time.
Was he coming home at all or had I pushed him too far?
I was worried. Worried I’d messed it all up. He loved me. Me of all people, and I went silent—radio silent—at the most important time of my life…I went freaking silent.
I had called every single friend I knew of his from his phone including his mom and sisters. Not a single one of them had seen or heard from Trip. This was why I was now wearing a hole in the living room floor.
He was on his bike when he left. There was a storm when he left. And that alone scared the living hell out of me.
He could be hurt and I’d not know. I spent approximately thirty seconds wondering if I’d driven him into the arms of some random skank, but decided that wasn’t a thought I wanted to travel down.
He had to have gone for a drink and gotten arrested. That was it; he’d gone for a drink, gotten into a fight and gotten arrested. Except, he must have been arrested across the other side of the country because I’d already called the police station and he wasn’t there. I’d also called Scarlett’s shop hoping he’d fallen asleep there, and my last resort, I’d called all the local hospitals. And nothing.
Radio silence.
Twelve Hours later…
I was rocking back and forth with the phone clasped to my chest, visible black rings under my eyes, and feeling like I couldn’t breathe.
The phone rang and I jumped without looking at the number. I quickly answered hoping for some news, any news. All I got was Trip’s sister, Haven, checking in; they’d been franticly searching from their end, but to no avail.
All I could think, while my eyes blurred with unshed tears, was what have I done?
Twenty-Four Hours later…
Tears streaming down my face, I took slow steps toward the door. I reached out and turned the knob. There weren’t many reasons a doorbell would ring at nearly two in the morning. I slowly cracked the door open to see two uniformed police officers looking somber and apologetic. The older of the two’s eyes fell to my stomach where I held a protective hand over it and he winced.
He winced.
“Ma’am,” The younger officer nodded at me. “Sorry for calling by this late but is this the residence of one Javerio ‘Trip’ Torres?”
Numbness took over as my body shook with silent sobs. My wet tears slid down my face hitting the arm holding onto my belly.
I did, however, feel my heart fall to the floor seconds before I crumpled to my knees and let out a long keening cry.
Chapter Seventeen
Teeny
“Whoa! Are you okay, Ma’am?” The younger officer bent on one knee and watched me warily.
My heart hurt. This absolutely couldn’t be happening. This was not happening. “What—I—Trip?” I spluttered feeling a panic attack coming on.
“I’m afraid there was an accident involving Mr. Torres and we were sent to inform you.” The older officer stepped forward and started talking, “He’s okay, Ma’am. He’s been there for a while however. He had no identification when he was brought in, so it took some time to find out who he was.”
Dipping my chin, tears of relief came easily while I chanted mentally, No more fights, never again.
Then a thought settled into my brain. Why didn’t he tell them who he was?
My stomach dipped. A million of the worst possible scenarios flittered through my mind. I was now breathing short and shallow trying to wrap my head around it all.
“Is he okay? Really okay?” I asked quietly, terrified of what answer I might get, yet understanding in that moment what it meant to love somebody unconditionally.
As the officer nodded with kind eyes, my mind wandered.
No matter how bad this may be, I would stand by him. Picking myself up off the floor with a shudder, I pushed through the door still in my pajamas and made for the truck.
“Wait, Miss. Would you like us to take you to the hospital he’s been admitted to?”
“Oh, umm.” Shit! I didn’t even know where he was. I looked from Trip’s truck to the patrol car and back again.
“It might be best. I don’t think you‘re in any condition to drive right now. I insist.” The older salt and pepper haired officer steered me gently toward the back seat.
The entire drive I stared into space, scared out of my mind about what I was about to walk into.
“Right this way, please.” The plump nurse walked beside me. “You’re his Teeny, right?” she asked slightly amused. I was taken aback and my forehead scrunched in confusion.
“Pardon?” I asked.
She chuckled sweetly, “Since he woke up, he’s been asking to call his Teeny. I assume that’s you seeing as he’s described how stunning you are to anyone who’ll listen.”
“Is he okay? I mean—does he have…” I put my hand on her arm to slow her walk down. I needed to know what was wrong before I went in there. what to prepare myself for. Maybe he’d hit his head and had brain damage or something.
She smiled kindly, “He’s fine, honey. Just a little medicated. He has a few bumps and bruises, a broken pinkie finger and a couple of stitches on his head. The doctor has him on some strong painkillers so he’s a little out of it.” A giggle broke through as she shuffled us forward.
What’s so funny?
She pushed open a door and stepped through warily. And that’s when I saw him.
“Oh my God,” I gasped and rushed forward but stopped short of him. Trip was standing up over by the window. Butt nak*d.
The open, full-length, glass window, I might add. I looked back to a smirking nurse opening and closing my mouth like a fish out of water.
“He refuses to wear a gown. Says he’s a dude and dudes don’t wear that shi—” she coughed, “…stuff. We’ve had security up here three times this morning to get him away from the window and cover up. I gotta say, I don’t mind the view. Your guy has a nice tush.” She was standing by the door not even attempting to do anything about his situation. I was still in shock. Seeing the cuts and bruises littering his body had my heart racing again. I moved forward a step when the nurse touched my arm bringing me to a halt.
“Wait for it.” The nurse looked from me and tipped her head to Trip. Before I could ask what the hell was going on, he did the funniest thing I’d even seen.
Placing his arms out by his sides, he stumbled a little before taking in a deep breath and belting out, “I’m a little teapot…”
I gaped. I tilted my head to the side and then I burst out laughing at the hilarity of it all. I had prepared myself for the worst and I found Trip high as a kite singing a kid’s lullaby. He was even doing the actions facing the window, just nak*d. Naked and singing about a teapot. He was okay. I could see it with my own eyes so I knew he was okay.
“…Short and stout!” he kept going.
Pulling out my phone, I shot a group message off letting his family know he was okay and I’d call soon with details, when suddenly, an idea hit me. It was just too good of an opportunity to pass up. So I went ahead and did what any normal person in this situation would do.
I hit record on my phone’s video camera and lifted it, taking in Trip’s performance as well as his spectacular ass. Something like this was too good to miss. Everyone needed to see it. I told myself it was all in support of him being fine. But my brain called bullshit.
“...Here is my handle. Here is my spout…” On the word spout, Trip openly and extremely obviously pointed to his dick. Laughing so hard that the phone shook, I watched as he kept up with his actions not even aware I was in the room. Snickering behind me was a group of female nurses all huddled together once they realized I was filming him.
A young male doctor walked into the room just as Trip finished his teapot rendition and cleared his throat causing the nurses to scatter. Slipping my phone away, I kept an eye on Trip trying to twirl like a ballerina but looking more like a monkey spinning in circles.
“You must be the famous Teeny then?” he smiled and stuck his hand out. He had a thousand-watt mega smile and a cute dimple in one side. His hands were strong and firm. I had a thing for man hands. I was also acutely aware that I was standing in front of a drop-dead gorgeous guy in my pajamas, no bra and a rat’s nest of hair sitting on top of my head. I felt the blush creep up my neck when my n**ples peaked under my shirt. “I’m the resident doctor. You can call me Alex though.” His thumb rubbed gently over the back of my hand that he was still holding onto.
“I guess. I mean…I’m not famous. I’m just Teeny. I mean...I’m just me.” Flustered, I shook my head and stared down at my slipper-covered feet. Alex’s face was scrambling my head and looking at his chest hadn’t helped my hormones due to the fact he had a body like a God and arms to match. He wasn’t as hot as Trip but he had this air about him that would lure old ladies and desperate woman or just horny women. Apparently, I fell into that category.
I almost swooned when he put his hand on my arm and smiled down at me, “You’re as pretty as I thought you’d be.” The doctor coughed to hide his slip up. “I mean as he said you’d be.”
Good Lord, was he flirting with me? I wasn’t entirely sure seeing as it’d been a while since that had happened. “Oh,” was all I managed to squeak out before Trip cleared his throat behind us.
“Would you like a seat?” At the reminder of Trip, I checked myself. Shit, how could I be standing with Trip in the room—the man I had come to realize I loved—yet I was blushing at another guy? I was an ass, plain and simple. My hormones were controlling every reaction I had and it was not cool. “I’ll just get Trip settled first. He’s…umm, very under-dressed.” Turning, I shuffled toward Trip who was now glaring at the doctor with his hands on his h*ps and an erection that was more than a little impressive; the silver bar that was ever present catching the light and drawing extra attention. It appeared the drugs were starting to wear off and I was left with a very nak*d, very horny and rather pissed off Trip to deal with.
“Trip, honey, can you come put some clothes on now?” I asked stepping in front of him to conceal his lack of modesty.
“I don’t know. Is this jackass going to keep hitting on you?” he fumed and continued shooting daggers at the doctor. Oh dear, his jaw was ticking and the smiling, happy Trip was gone. He was now clenching his fists by his side.
“You have a problem though. One you need to cover up,” I hissed completely uncaring about his issue with the doctor.
Trip reached for me pulling me tight to his body and planted a heavy kiss on my lips. “My problem is there because you’re here. I can’t see you and not get hard. Deal with it,” he told me honestly while eyeing off the doctor over my shoulder. Holding me possessively to him, he was obviously proving a point.