Page 52 of Forever Then

Chapter Forty-One

YOU’RE NOT ALLOWED TO TOUCH ME EITHER

Gretchen

“What’s with the sweatshirt? It’s summer,” Connor says as he locks the apartment door behind him.

“It’s also negative million degrees in your apartment.” I didn’t check the thermostat this morning for the actual number, but if my frigid extremities were any indication, I’d say negative million is in the ballpark.

“It’s set to sixty-five. Hardly winter-wear weather.”

“Sixty-five?” I howl, pressing the down button as we approach the elevator.

“I told you my body was a furnace.”

“And I’m telling you I have frostbite.”

“You have me to keep you warm.”

The doors open and I whirl back to face him after we step inside. “I’ll die from hypothermia first. Have fun sleeping next to my corpse.” He presses the button for the parking garage.

His belly laugh is deep and warm, the sound turning my lips up at the corners. “Ok, so a compromise then. ”

I eye him sidelong as the doors close. “I’m listening.”

“Sixty-six.”

I scoff. “How generous.”

Gaze directly in front of me, I catch his smug grin in my periphery as the elevator begins its descent.

“Seventy.” I turn toward him.

“Sixty-seven.” He faces me.

“Sixty-nine when we sleep.” He quirks a mischievous brow. “Get your head out of the gutter, old man. Seventy-two during the day.” I step into him, playing to win.

His breath coasts along my ear as he whispers, “Sixty-eight all the time.”

My skin shivers at his proximity, but I remain focused. “Sixty-eight when we sleep. Seventy-two during the day when you’re not around. Seventy if you’re home.” I nip at his jaw. “Final offer.”

“Hmmm. You drive a hard bargain.” He plants a peck to the tip of my nose. “Deal.”

Hand in hand, he smiles the whole way to the car and it’s as endearing as it is arrogant.

“What are you so smiley about?”

He curves an arm over my shoulder. “I like thinking about you staying with me. It feels very…” He shrugs, searching for the word.

“Domestic?”

“Yeah.” He opens the passenger door for me. “Is that weird?”

Others may say so. To the outside world, Connor and I are shiny, brand new. But I feel everything he does and I know it’s because we have more than what meets the eye. A history that nobody else knows about. A connection that’s been to hell and back behind the curtain.

I shake my head. “Is it weird that it’s not weird?”

He searches my face, chin atop his forearms resting on the doorframe. “Nothing about imagining a life with you feels weird.”

Flutters swarm in my chest and my heart soars, but I know serious relationships and commitment have been a sore spot for him in the past. I can’t help but ask, “Does that scare you?”

He runs my braid between his fingers, eyes cast down on the action. I step into his touch, the door a barrier between us, as I wait for his response.

“For the first time in my life, no.” Our gazes meet. “Does it scare you?”

“No,” I say, “but, you know, there are still things we need to figure out.” His eyes drop back to the hand twirling my hair and he takes a deep breath. “Like, how I’m going back to New?—”

“I know,” he cuts me off, moving around the door to bring his lips to my forehead. “But not today.”

Not today, but soon. I wrap my arms around his waist and my body warms by the second in his embrace. Or maybe it’s this parking garage and the fact that we aren’t inside his sub-zero apartment anymore.

“Why is it so friggin’ hot?”

He laughs as he open-palms my face and pushes me into the passenger seat.

On the way to the hospital, Connor and I discuss plans for how to tell my family, not only about meeting my biological family, but also about us.

Thanks to the time delay, my parents’ rebooked flight out of Italy doesn’t leave for another few hours and with their lengthy flight schedule and subsequent jet lag, it’ll be a couple days before we see them. Not to mention, Drew has been through a lot over the past several days.

Later this week, I figure, maybe after Reagan is cleared to go home, we can find a time to be together and I’ll tell them about Arizona.

I suggested we plan something separate with Drew so that we can break the news to him together about us, but Connor insisted that he wanted to be the one to tell him. Knowing the guilt he’s held on to all these years, I can respect his wishes and take a step back in that conversation .

After a quick coffee stop for a decent morning pick-me up for everyone, we’re on the elevator up to Reagan’s floor.

“We need to discuss ground rules,” I say.

“Ground rules?”

“For when we’re around people who don’t know about us.”

“Seems pretty cut and dry to me, but carry on,” he retorts with a grin.

“No touching.”

“There will be no putting of my hands upon you. Got it.” He salutes like a good little soldier.

“Good. And no?—”

“Technical question,” he interrupts. “What if you’re choking or otherwise in need of assistance? Is the Heimlich permissible?” I blink. “Chest compressions?” I blink twice. “Mouth to mouth?”

I close my eyes and then open them slowly. God , help me. “Life saving permissions are granted.” He’s trying so hard not to laugh. “Secondly, no looking at me like you want to take my clothes off.”

He bobs his head. “Uh-huh, uh-huh. But what if I do want to take your clothes off?”

“Think it. Don’t look like you’re thinking it.” I bite back a smile as the elevator doors open.

Stepping off, I look to the wall placard to point us in the right direction. Connor’s at my back a heartbeat later, his warm body pressed in close, breath on my ear. “You know I can’t wait to get those clothes off you, Fish.”

I whip around and slap him across his bicep. He leans away from the contact, shielding the cardboard coffee carrier he holds in one hand.

“Hey!” he whisper-shouts as he grips his injured arm like he’s taken enemy fire. “I was thinking it. And if I’m not allowed to touch you then you’re not allowed to touch me either.” His brows hit his hairline.

I laugh and begin toward Reagan’s room. We walk silently down the corridor, the steady rhythm of our feet hitting the linoleum floor the only sound. When I dare a sidelong look at him, the man winks at me .

Goddammit.

“No winking,” I say through gritted teeth, voice a whisper that I hope sounds more like a threat and less like the human ball of swoon that I am.

He flashes that smug grin of his. “Sorry, did you say something? Hey, Drew!”

I look up as my brother emerges from Reagan’s room at the end of the hall.

“You brought coffee. Thank God! This hospital sludge is awful,” he says.

Schooling my bemused expression from before, I jog the last few steps and throw my arms around my brother’s neck as Connor heads inside.

Drew sags into me. “Hey, sis.”

“I’m so sorry this happened.” He gives me one last squeeze before he steps back.

“Thank you. We’re doing alright. I’m sorry you had to cut the trip short.”

I shake my head, waving off his apology. “Stop it. You’re more important.”

Drew follows me into the room. I find Reagan in the hospital bed, a tired smile on her even more tired face. I approach her cautiously, noting the IV line in her hand, the dark circles under her eyes, and the hospital blanket draped over her lower half.

Connor sets Reagan’s coffee on the side table as I take a seat on the bed’s edge. Before we say anything, we wrap our arms around each other, hers heavy, laden with grief. She’s lost a baby and been through a major surgery that will forever affect her ability to conceive again.

I rub my hand up and down her back. “I’m so sorry.”

She sniffs as she leans back and wipes her eyes. “Ugh, I’m so sick of crying.”

“The doctor said that was normal, sweetheart. Your hormones are gonna be out of whack for a while,” Drew chimes in from the foot of the bed.

I give Reagan’s hand a reassuring squeeze before turning toward my brother. “Drew, if I’d known she was pregnant I never would have asked you to go with me.”

“No, Gretch. We didn’t even know until last week.

Our first appointment with the doctor to make sure everything looked good was the morning we were supposed to leave.

” He runs his hands down his face. “We were gonna get the ultrasound, hear the heartbeat, get the all-clear and then I would head to the airport.”

The room goes quiet. He doesn’t have to say what came next because Connor and I already know.

Drew continues, nonetheless. “Anyway, it wasn’t…it was…” He pauses, unable to say the word: ectopic.

Connor squeezes Drew’s shoulder. “It’s okay, man.”

He shakes the emotion away, before looking at his wife. The adoration and affection in Drew’s gaze in the face of such heartbreak makes me so proud to call him my brother.

“Yeah, so, the doctor gave her an injection that was supposed to help her body absorb the pregnancy over a few weeks. We were obviously pretty shaken up over the whole thing. You were already in the air by that time, Gretch. I couldn’t reach you. That’s when I called you.” He looks to Connor.

“We had a follow-up appointment on Saturday. Her hCG levels had dropped, but not by much, so we were supposed to come back today to check her levels again and possibly get another injection. But, on Sunday—” His voice stilts.

Tears gather behind his eyes as he comes to Reagan’s other side and takes her hand in his.

“I had some bleeding on Sunday morning,” Reagan continues for him.

“But they told me that could be a normal side effect of the injection so I didn’t think much of it.

By the afternoon it was worse. I felt a little woozy and then I got this sudden, piercing pain in my stomach when I tried to get up from the couch.

Next thing I remember is waking up at the hospital, being prepped for surgery. ”