Ruin:Part One(9)

"Mickey," I say her name. "You have a girlfriend."

I feel his hand clench into a fist on my back. "No. She's not that."

I push against him to no avail. My hands rest on his chest. "She's your girlfriend."

"No," he repeats the protest. "Mickey is just a woman I sometimes…"

I don't want to hear the word. I don't want the image floating into my thoughts the next time I'm in the bed touching myself while I think about him. "I need to go home."

"Let's go for a drink." He pushes his hands into my hair. "Please don’t go. I've thought about you for weeks. Tonight is the first night I've been out since then. It's fate that we're here together."

I want the words to have truth woven into them. I stare at him. He knows what he's doing to me. He knows that his hands bring up needs that only he can satisfy. He sees the untethered desire that I feel for him floating over my expression. It's there. It's not hidden or veiled beneath anything.

"Kayla," he says my name into my lips. "I can't let you go yet."

I lean forward knowing that I should get in the next taxi that passes by us. I push my lips into his fearing that after tonight I'll never see him again. I cup his cheek in my hand as I give in to the desire and the desperate need that is inside of me to taste him one last time.

"What the hell are you doing, Ben?" I hear her voice behind me. It's shrill, it's loud and it penetrates the one moment in time I want to last.

"Shit," he says through a nervous chuckle. "Let's get out of here."

He reaches for my hand, pulling it into his. I fumble with my clutch trying to keep up with him as we both laugh out loud at Mickey's curse filled rant wafting through the air behind us. I turn to look back. I feel my heel catch in a sidewalk grate. My hand escapes his, as my purse flies into the air and my face hits the pavement with a dull and empty thud.





Chapter 7




"Kayla. Kayla, can you hear me?" A woman's voice tears through the immeasurable pain in my head. It sounds as though she's screaming at me. What the hell is her problem?

My eyes dart open and I'm instantly aware that I'm not in bed at Alexa's. This room is bright. The large light above my head is shining directly into my face.

"Kayla. Kayla Monroe?" She repeats my name. "Do you know your name?"

If I didn't, I'd guess it was Kayla Monroe just by her incessant need to repeat it over and over again to me.

"Yes," I whisper through a swollen lip. "I'm Kayla."

Her hand brushes over my forehead. "Don't move. I'll get the doctor."

"The doctor?" I try to raise my hand to touch my forehead. It's burning. I feel as though I fell asleep with my face inside of a frying pan. "What doctor?"

I sense movement beside me. Where's Alexa? I need her.

"Kayla?" It's a man now. His voice is deep and gentle. It's familiar.

I turn my head slowly towards him. I remember him. He's handsome. We kissed. "Ben," I say his name. I remember his name.

"You're going to be fine." He leans down to run his finger over my lip. "Nothing is broken. You didn't need any stitches."

"Why are you here?" I try to look behind him for another familiar face. "Did I get hurt?"

He nods slowly, his eyes darting beside me to a nurse standing next to the bed. I don't flinch as she grips my wrist to take my pulse.

"Her pulse is ninety-two." I listen as she shuffles with papers. "She's stabilizing."

"Give her four hundred milligrams of ibuprofen and get someone from admitting down here," Ben directs her. "She needs to be monitored tonight."

Why is he saying those things? I turn to watch her walk quickly past one of the curtains that surrounds the bed. I'm in the hospital. I try to sit up. I can't be here. I need to be at work in the morning. I need to tell Alexa where I am so she doesn't panic.

"I have to go." I try to swing my legs over the side of the bed. "I need to go home."


"You can't leave." His hands push me back down. "You're seriously hurt."

"I want to talk to the doctor." I feel my lip quiver. "Go get the doctor."

He shakes his head slightly. I watch him take a heavy swallow. "I'm your doctor."

"What?" I bolt back to a sitting position.

He steadies my balance with his hands on my shoulders. "You fell, Kayla. I brought you here. I'm your attending physician."

"You're not a doctor," I blurt the words out quickly without any thought. I don't know who he is. Could he be a doctor?

"I'm a doctor." He points to the identification badge clipped to the front of his sweater. "I work here."

My eyes scan the badge. I can't focus on the writing. It's blurry. "This isn't real." I feel panic race through me.

"I'm Dr. Ben Foster."

"Foster?" I shake my head certain that I misheard him. "As in the Noah Foster?"

"No, Ben Foster. I'm not Noah. Noah is a photographer. You probably saw a story about him online or in one of the papers," he says gruffly. "My name is Ben. You and I met several weeks ago. You may feel temporarily confused because of the impact of your fall. That will…"