Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 72401 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 362(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72401 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 362(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
He had perfect, long lashes that women only wished they could have, and a perpetual bad attitude.
He was a dick and a half to everyone that came into contact with him...except for me.
I gasped when my shirt was yanked off my body, and then unceremoniously tossed to the floor.
“You want me? You’ve fucking got me,” Cleo snarled.
Then I fucking got him. And oh, did I get him.
***
Rue
I woke the next morning to my body deliciously sore, and my mind a hazy mess from the blissful overload of the night before.
Then my mind came back online when I realized that Cleo was no longer there, and I knew that I’d fucked up.
I knew as soon as I’d slept with him that he’d leave. I just thought I’d be awake to convince him not to go.
Here I was sleeping through his exit, and I had only sore muscles to show for it.
I’d gotten to know Cleo through my many visits with my grandmother to the gravesite to visit my Papa. On some of those occasions, her Alzheimer’s wasn’t acting up, but most of them, she couldn’t remember who I was.
I loved that woman with all of my heart, but I knew I couldn’t take care of her anymore. My full time home health nurse gave her two-week resignation yesterday¸ which meant that I was on my own.
When Nonnie was lucid, I loved having her there, but when she wasn’t, it was a nightmare.
It was hard to see someone you loved with all your heart go through that.
It was even harder to admit that I couldn’t take care of her anymore.
It’d been with Cleo’s help that I’d done as well as I had for so long, but I had a very bad feeling that that support had just jumped out of the proverbial helicopter, and didn’t have plans of returning.
Chapter 1
Come on, let’s get high.
-Cleo right before takeoff.
Rue
1 year later
“50 year old male. BP 89 over 60. Heart rate 110, oxygen sat 96% on O2 non-rebreather. Impaled by a steel pole through the right side of the abdomen. He’s got lacerations all over his body; pole’s doing a good job of keeping the bleeding under control,” a voice from my past said.
My breath stalled in my throat as I looked up into the eyes of the love of my life.
“Cleo,” I breathed.
His eyes snapped up from the patient to me, flared, and then went flat.
“Coded in the air. Administered...” he continued.
I was listening, but not listening at the same time.
Why was he here? Doing Life Flight? How did he find me?
Then I shook that stupid thought off. He wasn’t here to find me.
He was here because he was bringing a patient in; not here to see me.
That worked better than a bucket of cold water over my head.
My mind snapped back into focus, and I walked carefully next to the gurney Cleo was pushing, while continuing to write and listen.
“Mona, take him to trauma room two. Page Dr. Goldstein. Tell him we’re going to need him,” I instructed the closest nurse.
I was the charge nurse for today, due to our normal one calling in sick. Anyone who came in went through me, and I told them where to go. I had patients of my own, but I was also responsible for a whole lot more.
“Okay,” Mona replied enthusiastically.
Turning to the other nurse at the station, I said, “Jonathan, I’m going to eat my lunch.”
First off, I really was hungry. I’d been at work for a little over eight hours now, and hadn’t stopped once since I got here. In fact, I was also going on hour eight of no bathroom break as well.
Really, though, it was because Cleo was here, and I couldn’t be here while he was here. There was just no way I could do that. Not and function like I needed to.
Not now.
Not ever, probably.
Even now, a year later, it was still just as raw. Still just as debilitating.
“Hey,” that deep, low voice called out to me. The one that spoke to me in my dreams. “Wait up!”
I froze with my hand on the push handle that led outside.
My head hung, and my heart started to beat a million miles a minute.
I prayed that he’d leave me alone. I didn’t know what he’d have to say, and if it was another ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ or ‘I’m just not made for love,’ I’d fucking flip.
My body started working again all at once, and I started to push through, but a large, tanned arm stopped me in my tracks.
The same heart that I’d previously thought was beating fast took off like a fuckin’ rocket, beating even harder against my chest.
Thump-thump-thump-thump.
Over and over again, it pounded as the silence stretched between us.
“Rue,” his gruff voice said against the back of my neck.
He inhaled, breathing in the scent of my hair as he used to do.
“Cleo,” I sighed.
I couldn’t help it. I knew it was going to happen.
That’s why I’d chosen to retreat.
I had no defenses when it came to this man.
“How have you been?” He rumbled.
How did I answer that?
I’ve been great. Not. You ruined my life, and I’ve spent a year trying to fix the unfixable.
“Yo, Cleo! You ready to fly?” The pilot’s voice yelled from behind us.
He froze against my back, but didn’t turn around.
“Yes, I’ll be there in a minute.” He said.
“Come have dinner with me tonight,” he demanded.
It was a demand, too.
I wasn’t even sure if the word please was in his vocabulary.
“I’m busy,” I tried.
“Get un-busy,” he ordered. “I’ll pick you up outside once your shift’s over.”
With that, he turned and left.
While my heart was breaking into a million miniscule pieces.
I watched as Cleo walked down the long hallway in his sexy as hell flight suit, acting like nothing had happened.
‘Come have dinner with me tonight,’ he’d said.
As if he’d spoken to me just yesterday, instead of nearly a year ago.
And what a year it’d been.
I’d needed him, and he hadn’t been there.
He’d disappeared, and I’d been left with no one to talk to when I’d needed my best friend.