After a few moments, Ryker cleared his throat and stepped back. His gaze caught on Parker. “Why are you here?” he asked.
“Ryker—” I began tiredly. I didn’t want them to get into it. Not now. But Parker interrupted me.
“They called me,” he said. “I’m a block away. Of course I came down to see if I could help.”
“Was anyone else hurt?” I asked Ryker, figuring he’d know.
“The driver of the sedan has a broken leg and wrist,” Ryker said. I saw his gaze drop to where Parker held my hand. “The rest are just banged up a bit. But I want to make sure you’re okay.”
“I’m fine,” I said, then the pain in my shoulder reminded me that I wasn’t. “Well, almost, I guess.”
His eyes narrowed. “A couple of witnesses are saying that someone pushed you. That it wasn’t an accident. These corners have street cams. We’ll pull the footage and see what we find.” He glanced over to where a group of cops were talking and I could tell he wanted to go talk to them, but was torn because he didn’t want to leave me.
“You can go,” I said. “I know you have to work. I just … I needed to see you.”
“You need stitches. Are they going to take you to the hospital?”
“I’ll take her,” Parker said.
Ryker didn’t like that at all, judging by his expression, but what could he say? He couldn’t take me and I’d feel ridiculous riding in an ambulance to the hospital for mere stitches.
“Thanks,” he said at last, the word sounding forced from him. He turned back to me, his palm gently cradling my jaw. “I’ll be by when I get off, okay?”
I nodded and he kissed me again. A longer kiss this time, and while it was always a toe-curling experience to be kissed by Ryker, this time so blatantly in front of Parker, it felt more akin to a dog marking its territory. Not actually peeing on me, of course, just as a figure of speech. Because, eww.
When we came up for air, I saw that Parker had given us some space, walking a few yards away and turning his back to us. I looked up at Ryker, the blue of his eyes so startling beneath his dark lashes.
“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.”