Page 46 of The Dangers of Daydreaming (Love Connections #2)

I Might be Hallucinating

Finn

Everything hurt, even through the pain meds—probably because it was a lower dose today.

“When do I get my phone back?” I asked Gram, leaning on my pillows to look at the white ceiling of the hospital room.

“When I’m sure you’re not going to embarrass yourself with it. It’s for your own good.” She was gathering up her things to walk down the hall to Pops’ room. How lucky for her that she got to visit both her invalids in a mere sixty seconds.

“What did I even say that was so bad?” It had been three days since the surgery, and evidently, I’d lost phone privileges in the early hours of day one.

She gave me one of her you don’t want to know looks, but I threw it right back. I really did want to know. She sighed. “You told Lucy you’d be stuck in the hospital for a year and that you couldn’t fly a plane.”

“That’s not so bad—”

“And that you really wanted to kiss her, that you would have scars—would she like them? And that you were in love with her.”

I blinked at her.

“Yes. Based on her reaction, I assumed those were not words that had been shared yet. So, I took your phone.”

I rubbed the bridge of my nose. “Well, that wasn’t the most romantic way to relay that information.”

Gram chuckled .

“Do I want to know her reaction?” I couldn’t help but ask it, though I also couldn’t meet her eyes.

“She didn’t have much time to answer. You kept talking. She was… pretty quiet though.”

“Quiet is better than hanging up.”

She pierced me with a look. “Lucy clearly cares for you. Just because she didn’t tell your drugged self that she loved you back doesn’t mean she’s not halfway there already.”

I nodded. The empty feeling growing in my chest was stupid. We had been dating for basically a week. I couldn’t expect her to be in love with me yet.

But unfortunately, my subconscious hadn’t really been jumping the gun, because despite how short the time was… I was in deep. Love-level deep.

Gram was watching me, and slowly she set her purse back down, coming to sit on the side of my bed. “What are your plans, Finn?”

I gestured around the room. “Doesn’t matter much now. They’ve been a bit derailed.”

She shook her head. “Wrong answer.”

I sighed. “I planned…” Well, crap, to share this meant coming clean about more than just my feelings about Lucy. I met her eyes. “I’ve got something to tell you and Pops.” I rushed into it before I could lose my nerve. “I never got my degree.”

The lines around her eyes became more pronounced. “Yes, you did.”

I shook my head. “No, I didn’t. I failed one class after missing the end-of-term project and the final test.”

“One class?”

I nodded. “Stupid, I know.”

She smacked my leg. The good one—she wasn’t that mean. “What’s stupid is that you let it stop there. Finn— It’s been more than two years. You missed out on your degree by a single class, and you haven’t done anything until now?”

I winced. “Yeah. I know.”

“And you let us believe you’d graduated.”

“Yeah. I’m so sorry.”

Her face softened. “What happened?”

I set my jaw. “Dad.”

Understanding lit her eyes. “I see. Well, then I’ll ask again… what are your plans?”

I didn’t really think I was getting off that easily. Likely, the real Gram would return once Pops and I were feeling better—really, falling off a roof was probably the best way to get off easy on this little issue.

“My plan was to help you and Pops get going on selling the farm and then go finish school. Then… apply for med school. Maybe in Utah.”

Her brows lifted. “So, you do love her?”

I nodded. “I love her. And I didn’t even need pain meds to admit it. I… I keep telling myself it’s crazy, but I also know this more than I’ve known anything in a long time. I’m in love with her.”

Her thin mouth lifted in a smile, and she grabbed my hand in her papery one. “Good. I like her.”

I grinned. “I know.”

A nurse came in then. “Time for a vital check, Mr. Harrison.” While I was confessing things, I may as well bring Pops into the loop. I stuck my arm out for the blood pressure cuff and turned on my best puppy dog face.

“Any chance of a wheelchair to my grandpa’s room?” I asked.

She pursed her lips, but couldn’t hide the smile. The entire hospital was entertained by the fact that I’d landed myself on the same floor as my grandpa. “Your doctor actually did approve that if your vitals look good.” She removed the cuff, took my temp, and checked my lungs. “Which they do.”

I gave a little fist pump.

“When would you like to go?” She draped her stethoscope back around her neck.

“Now?” I asked hopefully.

She chuckled. “Okay.”

It was only a few minutes—one or two of them rather painful—before I was in the wheelchair headed down the hall. I looked up over my shoulder at Gram, who was walking beside the nurse. “Can I have my phone?”

Gram’s mouth was twisted in an unrecognizable expression. She looked almost mischievous. “Left it in your room, sorry. But you can have it tonight.”

I narrowed my eyes on her but agreed to the plan. “Do we need to shake on it? By your expression, I’m a little worried you’re going to go back on your word. And I’d really like to call Lucy.”

“Do not question my word, Finn Harrison,” she said as if I were thirteen again, and in need of scolding.

I lifted my hands in surrender. “Okay, okay.”

The nurse stopped in front of Pops’ hospital room; he’d been moved to a new one after waking from the coma, or so I’d been told. Gram stepped inside, holding the door wide for me.

If I had been walking, I would have frozen in place. But since the nurse was pushing me, she pushed me all the way up to Lucy’s side.

She was sitting beside Pops’ bed, seemingly deep in conversation with him. But now she turned to me, her smile wide.

“Alright, which of my pain medications causes hallucinations, and can I have more?” I asked, my eyes greedily taking in each of her features that I had missed so much in the last week.

She pressed her lips together, but the laugh escaped her regardless. “Harrison, you look terrible.”

I grinned. “Well, you look fantastic, so hopefully it makes up for me.”

Lucy glanced up at Gram, who had come to stand on the other side of Pops’ bed. “He’s not really high on pain medication, is he? Is it safe to have a conversation?”

Gram chuckled. “He’s in his right mind. Anything he says is his own fault now.”

“I understand it’s the first time you’ve seen your grandpa in a while, I’m sorry to interrupt. I can wait out in the waiting room?” she asked.

“No,” Pops, Gram, and I said at the same time. The nurse may have said it too, it was that unanimous.

It was Pops who spoke first, though. “I’m glad to see my boy alive and well, but you could take him away for a while.”

I grabbed Pops’ hand, squeezing it and gratefully having an equally strong squeeze given right back. “It’s good to see you. You gave us a scare.”

He nodded. “Don’t keep the pretty lady waiting.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice.”

Lucy looked up at the nurse who had tucked herself into a corner by the door and the computer. “Can I take him for a few minutes?”

“Several minutes,” I amended. A couple of people laughed. I didn’t see what was so funny, I was completely serious.

“Keep him on this floor, and that should be just fine. You can go back to his room, or there’s a surgical waiting room a few doors down that’s usually fairly empty.”

We knew the room. I think seeing how Lucy had interacted with my Gram and distracted us from our concerns and fears during Pops’ surgery might have been where I first started to fall in love with her. Or maybe that had happened all the way back in junior high.

She pushed me down the hall to the room in question, and I leaned forward to open the door into an area that was blessedly free of people. I could already tell this wheelchair was about to get in the way of just how badly I wanted to hold her, touch her, kiss her.

“You scared m e to death when I heard what happened,” she said, as she set us up in a corner, her in a chair and me in my mobile one.

I grimaced. “I’m sorry.” My hand grabbed her wrist, and my fingers played their way into hers.

She watched our hands, a small smile growing on her lips. But then she took a deep breath, eyes still down. “I’ve been thinking about Anne of Green Gables lately.”

“Yeah?” I could tell this was just the start of a conversation. Her version of dipping her toe into the water. My eyes traced the way her hair fell in front of her face.

“Yeah. Our story reminds me of hers a little.”

“Does it?” My throat constricted over the words, as thoughts of what that could mean washed over me.

Her eyes flicked up, catching mine. “Mmhmm. We got a few things wrong—like the first kiss shouldn’t have happened so soon.”

“I’m pretty sure Anne and Gilbert got that one wrong, not us.”

Her lips quirked. “But I misunderstood you when we were in school. You were a tease… but you weren’t mean.”

“I didn’t mean to be, at least.”

“And life kept us apart for a while.”

I nodded.

“And I got a few things wrong about love along the way,” she added.

I searched her eyes, not wanting to get my hopes up.

I didn’t expect the hard way her next words came out. “I know Anne needed to think Gil was dying in the books… But dang it, Finn, you didn’t need to fall off a roof to get me to realize I was in love with you.”

I tugged on her hand to pull her closer. “I’m sorry, would you repeat that?”

She immediately turned a delightful shade of red, but her brown eyes met mine. “I was wrong about real life versus fiction. I love you, Finn. And it's better than any book.”

My smile grew s o wide it started to hurt my face. “I love you, too. More than any two-dimensional character could ever love someone.”

“Oh, I know. You already told me,” she teased.

“And look at you, you didn’t even need to be under the influence to get the courage.” I swept the pad of my thumb across her lower lip, then up her jaw. Gooseflesh erupted on her neck, and I smiled to see it.

“I remember something else you said under the influence,” she added, in a not-so-innocent tone.

“Was it the part about kissing?” I asked. “Please let it be the part about kissing.” I was already guiding her head towards mine and contemplating how bad it might hurt if she were to end up on my lap.

Probably pretty bad. But what was a little pain?

“No, actually, something about flying a—”

I cut her off with my lips on hers, feeling her laugh against me in the most incredible of ways.

And for a moment, the wheelchair, broken leg, and long recovery didn’t even matter.

Because I’d found something—someone—in which I could put my trust and hang my future on.

This might have been the beginning, but I was already thinking about the end.

About two people growing old together. About a life that was more than just the moment, but that also included plans for the future.

And Lucy was it for me.