Faking Ms. Right (Dirty Martini Running Club #1)(44)

My mind raced. Ethan’s allergy was life-threatening, but he carried an EpiPen. His co-workers were all aware. How had this happened? How bad must it have been if he was being rushed to the hospital? The thought of Ethan going into anaphylactic shock—or worse—left me with a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. Fear turned my blood to ice and I gripped the steering wheel, clenching my teeth.

He had to be okay.

I wasn’t what you’d call close to my brother. But I wasn’t close to anyone. That was my fault, not his. Even so, there were very few people in this world I cared about more than him.

Traffic on the surface streets wasn’t bad. I made it to the hospital, parked in the garage, and hurried to the ER.

The woman at the front desk couldn’t tell me anything. I texted Dad and Grant to let them know I was here. They were both still fighting traffic on the freeway. I paced around the waiting room, consumed with worry. Why didn’t they know anything yet? Where was he?

I was about to go back to the front desk and bark at the receptionist to let me the fuck back to see Ethan, when I felt a gentle hand on my arm.

Everly stood next to me, her eyes soft with concern. “Are you okay?”

I stared at her. “What are you doing here?”

“I saw you leave and I could tell something was wrong. You didn’t answer your phone, so I called your dad. Do you know anything yet?”

Her hand on my arm was so soothing, her simple touch enough to keep me calm. “No, not yet.”

“I’m sure he’s okay.” She rubbed my forearm. “He’s getting the medical attention he needs.”

I nodded, desperately hoping she was right.

She led me to a chair and we both sat. I stared at the floor, tense with worry. I hated feeling so helpless. I was usually good in a crisis—always calm and controlled. But this was different. There was nothing I could do but wait.

It occurred to me suddenly that Everly was holding my hand, our fingers twined together. She leaned her head against my shoulder and rubbed my arm.

Turning my head slightly, I inhaled her strawberry scent and squeezed her hand. She squeezed back, her gentle touch reassuring.

“Excuse me, Mr. Calloway?” A nurse with a clipboard in her hand approached.

Keeping Everly’s hand gripped tightly in mine, I stood. “Yes.”

“We’re treating your brother for anaphylaxis, but I wanted to let you know he’s conscious and breathing on his own. It was severe, but the worst is over and we’re doing everything we can for him.”

“Can we see him?”

“Soon,” she said and Everly squeezed my hand again. “We’ll come get you as soon as he can have visitors.”

“Thank you.”

The nurse left and we went back to our seats. I dropped Everly’s hand and slid my arm around her shoulders, hugging her against me. I didn’t worry about whether or not I should. Didn’t care that no one was here to see it. This wasn’t for show. I was scared for Ethan—I was man enough to admit that—and holding her felt good. It felt right.

Grant came in, followed closely by Dad. I gave them what little information I had. Grant was visibly relieved, but he didn’t sit. He paced around the waiting room like I had when I’d first arrived. Dad sat with his hands in his lap, his expression uncharacteristically serious.

No one mentioned my mother. She lived in Portland, so it wasn’t as if she could rush over here. Neither of us had much of a relationship with her, but she’d want to know. I decided to let Grant and Ethan handle that when it was over and we were sure Ethan would be fine.

It took a while before we were given another update. We all stood as soon as the doctor came out. Ethan was doing better and so far showing no sign of a secondary reaction. He’d been at a restaurant and had been served something contaminated with peanuts. It made me furious. I wanted to burn that fucking restaurant to the ground.

But Everly slipped her arms around my waist and rested her head on my chest. I held her close, ignoring the line I was crossing. My dad was here now, so it stood to reason I could do this—hold her and stroke her arm with so much familiarity. But I wasn’t doing it for him, any more than I’d held her hand for show. This had nothing to do with our ruse, and I didn’t give a fuck.

I wanted this. Needed it. Needed her.

Eventually, we were all taken back to see Ethan. He’d been admitted overnight as a precaution, so the nurse led us to his room on another floor. Everly, Dad, and I waited outside while Grant went in first. Gave them some privacy.

When we went in to see my brother, he looked pale, but smiled. He was hooked up to an IV and there were still traces of redness and swelling around his mouth.

I stood at the foot of the bed, my hand once again clasped with Everly’s. “It’s good to see you’re okay.”

“Thanks.” His voice sounded hoarse. “I still feel like I got hit by a bus, but the worst is over.” His gaze flicked to Everly and he raised an eyebrow at me.

“Sorry, I know this is private and not the best way to meet, but I’m Everly.” She wiggled her fingers at Ethan and Grant. “I’m really glad you’re all right.”

“It’s still nice to meet you,” Ethan said.

She squeezed my hand. “I’ll wait outside. Take your time.”

I spoke quietly with Ethan, Grant, and Dad for a few more minutes before excusing myself. Ethan was okay, and he needed rest after his ordeal. He had Grant to support him and Dad said he’d stay a bit longer.