Playing Dirty (Risky Business, #2)(37)

“I’ll see you soon,” I said. He took a step away, but I hooked his T-shirt with my fingers and tugged him back. “Thanks for not getting all weird about this,” I quietly added.

He nodded, shot a quick glance at Parker, then he was gone.

I slid from the back of the ambulance until my feet touched the ground, then had to grab hold of something as my knees wanted to buckle. Parker was suddenly beside me.

“Hold on to me,” he said, sliding an arm around my waist. I hooked my uninjured arm over his shoulder.

“My car’s not far,” he said. “I’d go get it and come to you, but this traffic won’t let me anywhere close.” It was true. The accident had snarled traffic in all directions.

“You have a four o’clock meeting today,” I said.

“I’ll reschedule.”

“It’s with Wuther Investments,” I reminded him. “We set up this meeting weeks ago.”

“Then we’ll set it up again,” he said. “I’m not worried about it.”

He was so close, I was absurdly glad of the pain in my shoulder that didn’t allow me to dwell on how much I liked the feel of his arm around me.

We made it to his car without incident, and the wait in the ER wasn’t that bad. Finally, we were ensconced in a room, waiting for a doctor to do the stitches. I was apprehensive, drumming my nails on the table and fidgeting.

“What’s the matter?” Parker asked. He was leaning against the wall, arms and ankles crossed. “Does it hurt? Because if you’re in pain, I can go find someone—”

“I just hate stitches,” I cut him off. “And they stick a needle right in there to numb it and …” I shuddered. I wasn’t a huge fan of the ER anyway, or needles. I mean, who was?

The trace of a smile graced his lips. “I’ll hold your hand,” he promised. “And if you’re good, maybe they’ll give you a lollipop.”

I rolled my eyes, but my lips twitched. A joke was nice after the harrowing accident. The memory made even my half-smile fade, and Parker seemed to sense my mood.

“Why did you call me?” he asked out of the blue.

I frowned, not following his train of thought. “What do you mean?”

“The guy who was helping you,” he said. “You had him call me. Why? Why not call Ryker? Or your mom?”

I was momentarily speechless, staring at him. I hadn’t really thought about it. I’d nearly died, literally faced death coming at me going forty miles an hour, and it hadn’t occurred to me not to call Parker. When the guy had asked, I hadn’t thought twice.

But now, with him looking at me and waiting for an answer, I felt foolish. Of all people, I’d called my boss? How … weird. No wonder that guy had looked at me all strange. He’d probably thought I’d hit my head, telling him to call my boss.

“I did call Ryker,” I said, stalling. “Or, I mean, you did for me.”

“But you called me first.”

Shit. He wasn’t letting this go.

“I-I …” My stammering made his eyebrow lift before I finally came up with something. “You were the closest,” I blurted. Yeah, that sounded good. And was true, actually.

“I was the closest,” he repeated, and the doubt in his voice made me double down on my fib.

“I knew you’d be able to come right away because you were in your weekly with Rafferty from Legal.”

“So?”

“So that meeting never goes past an hour.”

“That’s because an hour is all I can stand with him.”

“I know.”

“So you’re saying that’s the only reason you called me?”

His persistence made me wonder what he wanted me to say. “Why else?” I asked. “It’s not like you’re my in-case-of-emergency person.”

“Who is?”

“Who is what?”

“Your in-case-of-emergency person.”

“My parents, of course,” I said. Then curiosity made me add, “Who’s yours?”

“You. Of course.”

And that was the second time I’d been struck dumb by Parker in the span of mere minutes. Before I could think what to say, the doctor walked in.

“So I hear you’ve had quite a lucky day,” he said to me, pulling up the little rolling stool to sit on and the tray with all the needles. He snapped on latex gloves and I gulped.

“Yeah, you could say that. So, um, how many shots do you think you’ll need to do to numb it?” Those shots always felt as though they took an excruciatingly long time.

“Probably three or four,” he said, looking at the slice in my arm.

I winced, my nails digging into the thin foam cushion of the chair I was sitting on. The doctor picked up the needle and I took a deep breath.

Parker was at my side, prying my hand from the chair and folding my palm inside his. I looked up at him rather than the needle, flinching as the medicine went into the wound. Gripping Parker’s hand harder than I probably should have, I focused on his eyes, the clear purity of the blue that was a deeper shade than Ryker’s.

He crouched down next to me. “So I found out Deirdre is dating someone,” he said.

That got my attention. Deirdre was Parker’s cleaning lady and cook who came by his apartment daily. Her cooking was phenomenal, and I knew this because I’d snuck a couple of bites a few times at Parker’s place when he wasn’t yet home from work and I’d been dropping off his dry cleaning or files he needed. I’d met her a few times, too.