Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 95421 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95421 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
The nurse handed me a packet of papers stapled at the corner, still smiling. “These are your cast instructions. The most important thing is to wrap it in a plastic bag and keep it dry while showering. Sealing it with a rubber band is the easiest. And don’t stick anything inside the cast, even if you’re itchy, because you can injure yourself. But you’re going to do that anyway, especially since you’ll be wearing this thing during the hottest months of the year, and you’re bound to get sweaty. So try to use a nail file or something without a point, at least.”
“Okay, thank you.”
“Follow up with your doctor when you get back to New York. But you’ll likely have the cast on for four to six weeks.”
I frowned. “Great. I’m in the process of looking for a new job. And of course, I’m a righty.”
She nodded. “People tend to punch with their dominant hand. I broke my wrist once, in a car accident. The worst part was trying to hook my bra. You don’t realize how much your hand bends and flexes to get those little hooks linked.” She moved the treatment tray from the bedside and took a step back. “But you’re all done.”
I hopped down. “Thank you for everything. Is there a ladies’ room I can use before I leave? It’s a long drive back to the cabin.” If I was even staying there. I still had no idea what the heck Dawson and I were going to do.
Inside the bathroom, I was horrified when I looked in the mirror. I’d had false eyelashes put on for the first time before I flew out yesterday, thinking they’d look nice for the wedding. But apparently the glue hadn’t worked so well, at least on the right eye. My left, though? That one hadn’t lost a single lash. So it looked as if one eye was twice the size of the other. Not only that, I’d done a face mask before going to bed. The mud had been yellow when I applied it, but it had dried to a greenish-gray color, and apparently, I hadn’t removed it all like I thought I had. My face had two distinct patches of gray, one of which was on my nose and made my left nostril appear lumpy. And then there were the blotches. I had fair skin that told no lies, so whenever I was nervous or upset, I broke out in patches of red.
“Jesus.” I turned on the water and started rubbing the leftover mud mask from my face. “I didn’t have to punch the man. I could’ve scared him off just turning on the light.”
A few minutes later, I walked out to the lobby of the emergency room with the remaining eyelashes removed and the clumpy patches of gray gone. There was nothing I could do about my blotchy skin. Dawson stood when he saw me.
“Damn.” He looked at my arm. “They out of white casts?”
“No, I thought the pink was cute. Color makes me happy.”
“If you say so. I guess your knuckles were broken?”
I nodded. “And you lied to me. It hurt like hell when they put them back into alignment.”
Dawson’s lip twitched. “I figured you were stressed enough. You didn’t need to add anticipating pain that makes you want to throw up to everything else.”
“And why didn’t you tell me what my face looked like?”
Two lines formed between his brows. “What was wrong with your face?”
“Apparently the lashes I had put on came off of one eye while I was sleeping, and some of the mud mask I did last night didn’t wash off.”
Dawson’s eyes roamed my face. “Huh. So your nose isn’t crooked?”
“No! It was the mud. I looked deformed.”
He shrugged. “I thought you were cute anyway.”
I felt an unexpected flutter in my belly, but ignored it. “What are we going to do about the cabin?”
Dawson put his hand on my lower back and urged me to start walking. “Can we talk about it on the drive back? The guy in there on my left is hacking up a lung. I think he has tuberculosis.”
I glanced over at the man coughing. “Tuberculosis? Isn’t that a little over the top? It’s probably just a virus or the flu.”
“The guy’s sweating and thin. I looked up the symptoms. Fever and loss of appetite are common indicators of TB.”
I stopped in place. “Oh my God. I forgot what Lily said when she told me one of Ben’s friends was a defense attorney.”
“What did she say?”
My head bent back in laughter. “That you were smart, super competitive, and handsome, but also a germaphobe. Is that why you showered at two in the morning?”
“I stopped at rest stops. Do you know how much shit grows in those disgusting bathrooms?”
I don’t know why, but I couldn’t stop laughing—not as we exited the emergency room or as we walked to where Dawson’s car was parked.