‘I know,’ Rhys said, and I felt like another link was silently forged in the chain binding us. The very real possibility that after we’d shared a taxi ride together I might never see him again was inexplicably terrifying.
This wasn’t me. I was a long slow burn in relationships. I’d heard it too many times to ignore it or believe it was wrong. I didn’t do spontaneous; everything was controlled and measured, and I had no idea who this impulsive, reckless person was who’d jumped into the driver’s seat of my life. Or how the hell to get her out. Or even if I wanted to, I was honest enough to admit.
We all blinked like moles as we emerged into the dwindling daylight through a service exit at the back of the hospital outbuilding. We appeared to be in some sort of delivery drop-off area, but right now the only vehicle there was an idling blue taxi.
‘Ah good, your ride is here,’ said Olly with a satisfied nod, who’d clearly masterminded our covert exit.
‘I owe you one for this, mate,’ Rhys said, pulling Olly in for a short, hard hug.
I watched, fascinated. It had always seemed a shame to me that British guys didn’t embrace each other more, and yet Rhys looked totally comfortable as he held on to his friend with what appeared to be genuine affection.
‘Remember what I said.’ Olly’s voice was low and suddenly serious. The men exchanged a meaningful look. ‘You have to call, Rhys.’
‘I know.’
They were being frustratingly cryptic, and I only just managed to bite my tongue before it ran away from me and asked what they were talking about.
Olly turned to me and held out a huge bear-paw of a hand. The man truly looked more like an Aussie rugby player than a medic.
‘It’s been a pleasure meeting you, Ellie Harker. Take care of yourself and don’t overdo things for a while. This kind of trauma takes time to get over.’
I nodded, as though I knew all about how to recover from a day which so easily could have been my last.
‘I’ll be in touch,’ Rhys said, one eye on the empty delivery bay and the other on the taxi, whose driver was starting to look a little impatient. ‘We’d better go.’ He reached for my elbow and, gently cupping it, guided me towards the cab. It was old-fashioned courtesy, the kind he’d probably afford to an elderly grandma or a maiden aunt, but it did something to my stomach that made me wonder if my internal organs were entirely safe in his vicinity. As I slid into the back seat beside him and his thigh inadvertently brushed against mine, I decided that I really didn’t care.
Chapter Four
It was probably childish of me, but I rather enjoyed the moment when our taxi drove straight past the cluster of newspeople still congregated at the front of the hospital.
‘I wonder when they’ll realise we’ve gone,’ I said, swivelling in my seat and watching as the group got smaller and smaller in the back windscreen.
‘I hope the hospital security is tight and no one reveals our names. Or at least not until we’ve decided who we want to tell.’
Rhys was looking at me with an enquiring expression, as though he wasn’t sure if his next question was appropriate but was going to ask it anyway.
‘Do you have family or a partner in the area? I was kind of surprised there was no one with you at the hospital today.’
‘I could say exactly the same thing about you,’ I batted back.
His laugh was equal parts irony and humour, seasoned with a pinch of admiration.
‘My parents live in Jersey, far enough away that they won’t have heard about what happened today. I think it might be best to wait and tell them in person.’
He raised his eyebrows and gave me an encouraging it’s your turn now look.
‘My mother and I are... we’re not exactly...’ I blew out a long breath that probably explained things far better than my faltering, incomplete sentences. ‘I’m going to go with your “tell them in person” thing. Probably. Eventually.’
Those brilliant green eyes could easily be my kryptonite. I could feel them lasering straight through my emotional defences and seeing the uncomfortable truth far more clearly than I wanted him to.
‘I told the hospital staff that I’m going to be nursed back to strength by a non-existent sister I don’t have.’ I made a big show of checking my watch. ‘She’ll be at mine any minute now.’
Rhys grinned even while he was shaking his head and tutting at my lie.
‘Speaking of which,’ he said, ‘we need to give the driver your address. The only one he has so far is mine.’
The urge to say ‘We could go back to yours’ was so strong I had to bite my tongue to stop the suggestion tumbling out. That, and the fact that Rhys hadn’t given even the smallest hint that he wanted to extend our time together.
Could being struck by lightning regress a person so far into adolescence that they actually forgot all the good sense they’d accumulated as an adult? I resolved to look that up online as soon as I got the chance.