Page 58 of Goal Line (Boston Rebels #4)

Luke drops my hand so he can wrap his arm around my shoulders instead. The amount of time this man spends holding me together lately should earn him some sort of an award.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, honey,” Dad says. “You told your mom how you felt. How she handled it is on her. She’s an adult and responsible for managing her own reactions.”

“Yeah.” The word escapes on a deep sigh. I know he’s right, but after a lifetime of trying not to rock the boat—to keep my own emotions in check in order to keep my mom’s in check—this feels like a failure.

“I’m sorry too,” Luke says. “That was between Eva and Helene. I should have kept my mouth shut, but...I don’t like to see my wife hurting.”

“I know Eva can stand up for herself—and maybe you need to let her do so more frequently. But don’t lose that protective instinct,” Dad tells my husband. “I like knowing that you’ve always got her back.”

“You okay?” Luke asks when I press my fingers to either side of my head, just above my temples.

“It’s just a headache. I think we should go, though.”

I glance up at Luke and see the panic in his eyes, but his face remains calm. I know he doesn’t want to alarm my dad. We haven’t had a chance to tell our parents about my high blood pressure.

“Okay, I think today’s been a lot for Eva,” he says to my dad. “I’m going to take her home.”

“I thought you two were staying here tonight?” Dad’s forehead wrinkles, and his concern over the change of plans is evident on his face.

“We were,” I say. “But I just want to go home.”

“I’m going to grab our bags from my room upstairs,” Luke says to me, then looks to my dad, “and I’ll take the back staircase and come out from the side door in the kitchen, so we don’t make a scene. Can you walk Eva to my car, and I’ll meet you guys there?”

“Sure.” Dad holds his arm out to me, and I take it, leaning on him a bit more than I probably should if I don’t want him to suspect that anything is wrong. But my heart is racing, and I feel off-kilter.

Dad presses a kiss to the top of my head before turning and walking me out to the driveway. “You feeling okay?” he asks.

“Yeah, just tired and I have a headache. I’m fine,” I assure him, even though I truly do not feel fine.

He gives me a hug and asks me to check in with him tomorrow and let him know how I’m doing. And then, as I’m getting situated in the passenger seat, Luke opens the liftgate of his Mercedes and shoves our bags inside.

He comes around to the passenger side, shakes my dad’s hand, and asks him to quietly let his parents know we left once the party dies down. And then he shuts my door, hops in the driver’s seat, and speeds down the long driveway lined with cars.

“You don’t have to drive like a maniac,” I tell him, speaking softly. “I’m fine.”

“Really?” he asks, his voice tight but gentle. “Because when we were checking out after our appointment the other day, a headache was one of the first things Dr. Lowery’s nurse told us to look out for as a sign of possible blood pressure issues.”

“It’s just because I got upset. I’m sure it will subside as soon as I calm down.”

Luke heads into town, silent and focused on the road as we drive. When he pulls into the parking lot at the local pharmacy, I look over at him. “What are we doing here?”

“We’re buying one of those at-home blood pressure monitors and calling Dr. Lowery if it’s elevated.”

“Oh my god, Luke,” I groan, tilting my head back to look through the glass of the sunroof. “You’re overreacting.”

“I hope so,” he says. “And if your blood pressure comes back in the normal range, then we can laugh about it. If not, we’ll be glad we checked.”

He opens his door and locks it behind him, returning in just a few minutes. He tears open a small box as he walks and deposits the packaging inside the bag looped over his wrist.

When he slides back into his seat, he hands me the small device and reads the directions for me to follow.

My hands are shaking, probably from the adrenaline rushing through my system after the interaction with my mom.

Finally, Luke helps me get the cuff secured around my upper arm, and when the reading flashes on the small screen we both freeze.

“One forty-two over ninety,” Luke mutters before glancing at the blood-pressure monitor booklet in his hand.

“That’s quite a bit higher than at your appointment, and the chart here says it’s almost high enough that you should ‘call your doctor immediately.’ Given the circumstances, I think we should call anyway. ”

I close my eyes, pressing my lips together and focusing on breathing in slow, deep breaths. Those numbers are scaring me, and my heart rate is kicking up a notch as a result. I know that’s not going to help matters.

“Eva?” Luke sounds a bit worried about my lack of response.

I nod, keeping my eyes pressed close. “Yeah. Call.”

The phone call connects over Bluetooth, and the answering service takes down our information, telling us to expect a call back within thirty minutes. As soon as he disconnects, Luke is backing out of our parking space.

“Where are we going?” I ask.

“We’re going to start driving back toward Boston. We’ll pass at least two hospitals on the way, so if she wants us to stop, we can. Or once we’re back in the city, we can go to the hospital Dr. Lowery’s affiliated with if we need to.”

“Okay.”

“In the meantime, Evie, I need you to relax. Focus on your breathing, calm your body down.”

I shift in my seat, trying to get more comfortable, and something rolls off my lap.

I glance down at the silver baby rattle Luke’s mom gave me earlier, which I forgot I’d set there when I got in the car.

I pick it up, letting my fingers trace over the engravings along the silver ends.

Taking a deep breath, I picture our baby girl holding this rattle, chewing on it with her little pink gums while teething.

We’re twenty minutes closer to Boston when Dr. Lowery’s call comes through over the speakers in Luke’s car.

After he explains the situation, she says, “Eva, I don’t want you to panic.

Your blood pressure is not in the danger zone, but it’s higher than I’d like.

I’m going to ask you a few other questions. ”

“Okay,” I squeak out.

“Do you have a bad headache?”

“I had a severe headache earlier, but it’s mostly gone away.”

“Are you feeling dizzy?”

“No. But I was a little dizzy earlier, when I walked out to the car,” I say, thinking about how I was clinging to my dad.

“Are you seeing spots at the edges of your vision?”

“No.”

“Any increased swelling?”

“No, not that I’ve noticed.”

“Then I don’t think you need to rush to the hospital right now,” she says, and my whole body sags with relief.

“But when you get home and are more relaxed, I want you to take your blood pressure again. If it’s higher, then go straight to the hospital.

But as long as it stays steady or goes down, we can wait and deal with this tomorrow.

I want to see you in my office first thing, though.

I’ll squeeze you in early. Meet me at my office at eight-thirty. ”