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The door shut behind her like a period at the end of a brutal sentence.
And the hits just keep on coming.
Leighton
“You sure you're okay, Punky?”Paxton asked as we rode the elevator up to my floor. “You’re still looking a bit peaky.”
Despite waking up on the wrong side of the bed to another “friendly reminder” email about my past-due car payment, I’d thrown on my game face and made the most of the morning. We’d had a great time. I’d had Paxton’s back through the entire event, and—if I’m honest—it was pretty damn surreal to stand beside him, snapping photos for eager kids who just wanted a signed print with their favorite quarterback. Who also happened to bemyfavorite big brother.
I’d told Pax and Dallas I was too exhausted to run, but still wanted to help. He’d parked me at the photo op tent at the halfway mark. A win-win—stay out of the sun, and out of range of my nosy not-a-brother-in-law, while still helping the cause.
But around eleven, the ground started tilting under me. My heart fluttered, once, then again. It hadn’t acted up in a while, and I took it as a sign to get the hell off my feet.
“Yeah,” I finally answered as we reached my floor. “I swear I'm alright.”
“Did you get enough water in?” Pax pressed, one hand hovering protectively near my shoulder, like he was ready to catch me.
I batted the big, beautiful, overbearing ass away. “Yes,Dad. I drank plenty. It was probably just the heat.”
“I’ll still feel better once I know you’ve seen a cardiologist.”
Right.Because thoseare just lining up for me right now. With my referral stuck in Anchorage’s backlog, it would be months before I got an appointment. Might be faster to fly home and wait another four to six weeks.
“My annual is in February,” I hedged. “I promise I’m diligent.”
“I know,” he muttered as we reached my door. “But aren’t you supposed to check in if there are any changes or symptoms?”
“Geez Louise, what is it with the men in my life today?” I muttered under my breath.
Having a major cardiac event as a teenager was traumatic enough. Add eleven siblings, and that trauma came with a never-ending rotation of protectors. The whole family had put their lives on hold during my surgery and rehab. Even now, years later, if I so much as jogged too fast, I got scolded from thirteen directions.
It hadn’t helped that we lived in a town small enough for the sheriff to personally swing by and tattle to my parents. It wasn’t until I moved to Emerald Bay that I could so much as take a hike without someone catching up “just to check in.” I knew it all came from love—but my god, it was suffocating.
“What?” Pax asked.
“Nothing,” I sighed as he keyed in the door code and held it open for me. “If any red flags pop up, I promise I’ll make a call. It was probably just the sun, and I feel fine now.”
Which was only kind of a lie. The sun hadn’t been that hot, maybe low eighties. And I’d been wiped all week. The guilt scraped at my insides. Fatigue. Lightheadedness. The same symptoms I’d ignored before the first time.
But cardiology care wasn’t cheap—even with insurance—and I didn’t have money sitting in the couch cushions. Every job I’d applied to in the last six weeks had ghosted or rejected me outright. Degree or no, experience trumped ambition, and nobody wanted to train someone “just eager to learn.”
I knew Pax would help me out if I asked. Hell, he’d cover all my bills and drag me to the damn hospital himself. But I didn’t want to turn to him. Didn’t want to call my parents or beg someone to bail me out. And I especially didn’t want to be another leech in Oliver Hart’s life. He deserved someone who didn’t look at him and see dollar signs.
At twenty-three, I should be able to pay my own goddamn bills—and that included managing my defective ticker.
I must’ve been too wrapped up in my own head, because I didn’t hear what Paxton said next until he stepped in front of me, blocking my path with his brows furrowed.
“If you need something, you know you can tell me, right?”
“I know,” I chirped, turning on the cheer. Everything was fine. My heart was fine. The perfect job was coming any day now, and I’d be right as rain in a matter of a few weeks. At least, that's what I was telling myself as Paxton lowered those concerned Rhodes gray-blues on me.
“I mean it, punky.”
“I know you mean it, bubba.”
His expression softened immediately at the old nickname. When we were kids, Kaia and I couldn’t pronounce “brother” properly, and somehow all six of them became bubba-something.
I squished his face between my sweaty palms. “Now let me pass the fuck out for a few hours before dinner and I promise, all will be peachy keen.”