Page 25 of The Inn Dilemma (Give a Bookish Girl a Biker)
Chapter Seventeen
“ I ’m fine. Just leave me alone,” I say, pushing Holt away.
“You’re going to need stitches.”
I stare up at Holt defiantly. The dew on the grass seeps into my jeans, but I pretend like it doesn’t bother me.
Just like how I’m trying to pretend like the cut on the side of my head doesn’t hurt like crazy.
Without warning, Holt scoops his arms under my armpits and pulls me up so I’m standing and glaring up at him.
Then he tugs me along until we reach the entrance of the Storybook Inn.
“Sit,” he commands, pointing at one of the rockers on the front porch.
I cross my arms over my chest and pout. “Fine.”
Holt is only gone a minute before he’s back and kneeling in front of me. He opens the first aid kit and pulls out the peroxide and a few cotton balls. He gently presses the peroxide-covered cotton ball against the cut and I grimace.
“Ouch. Stop. ”
He raises a dark eyebrow at me. “Do you want it to get infected?”
“No.”
“Then let me clean it before I take you to the hospital. Even I can tell you’re going to need stitches.”
“Okay, Dr. Graves,” I say in a mocking voice.
Holt grits his jaw and narrows his slate-gray eyes at me. “You’re mean when you’re hurt.”
I roll my lips inward, feeling a little guilty for being so nasty to him. Holt is only trying to help me.
“Sorry,” I mutter. “It just stings.”
Gently, he presses another cotton ball to the cut. It hurts a little less this time. Then he hands me a towel full of ice.
“A bandage won’t stick to your hair, but press this against it as I take you to the hospital. It should help.”
“I don’t want to go to the hospital. This will heal eventually on its own.”
“It will heal eventually after you get stitches,” he pushes back.
I try to give him my best puppy dog eyes since they usually work.
“Let’s go.” He hooks a thumb in the direction of his truck.
I give up. “Fine.”
He gives me a triumphant smile and walks me over to his ancient truck. I like it when he smiles. Holt barely smiled when Christian and I first met him. Even though my brother is still the most serious person I know–other than Dad–he makes Holt smile too.
“Buckle up,” Holt says, clicking his own seatbelt.
Without complaint, I do what he says.The ride to the hospital feels like it takes forever. When we reach the parking lot, Holt is able to get a spot close to the emergency room entrance.
After checking in at the front desk, I sulk over to one of the chairs and sit down. Holt sits beside me, then rests his face in his hands.
“I’m sorry, Nova. This is my fault.” Up until now, he’s been fully in charge and confident since the moment I fell.
I press the towel he gave me to my head. “No, it’s not. It’s mine.” I shouldn’t have tried to do what I saw on that internet video while Holt was stuck with me.
Holt sits up and shakes his head. He stares at me, looking sadder than I’ve ever seen him. It’s weird seeing him like this. I don’t like it.
“It’s my fault, not yours,” I say, firmer this time.
He sets his elbows on his knees and rests his head in his hands.
“Nova Price,” the nurse calls.
I get up and follow her, but before the door closes behind me, I look back to Holt. He's sitting up straight again and staring at me with his face full of guilt. I feel even worse since I’m the one who put the frown on his face.
I sit on the bed, continuing to hold the cloth to my head.
After what feels like forever, the doctor comes in. “Hi there, Miss Price. I’m Dr. Hollinsbrook. One of my nurses got a hold of your mom and she said to do whatever we need to get you healed up.” He writes something down on the clipboard. When he looks up, he says, “She’ll be here soon.”
Nerves fill my belly. Mom is not going to be happy about this.
The doctor pulls my hand away from my head then narrows his eyes as he looks me over. “Sorry, Nova, but you’re going to need stitches. And we’re going to need to shave part of your hair to give them to you.”
I shrug as if it doesn’t bother me. But Daddy is going to be furious. He has a big dinner coming up that we will all be at. Usually, my hair is pulled up for those things. There’s no way I can wear my hair up with part of it shaved and with ugly stitches where the hair should be.
A nurse comes in and carefully shaves my hair around the cut after sticking a needle into my scalp to numb it. The pinch hurts almost as bad as when I fell, but I keep my pain and tears to myself. I swallow them down until they fill the growing pit in my stomach.
It’s not until after the doctor clips the final stitch that Mom comes in. “Oh, sweetie, Holt just told me what happened. Are you okay?”
I want her to come over and stroke my back. Tell me that everything will be okay. But she doesn’t. She remains standing in front of me, just out of reach.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I answer.
“Oh, thank goodness this can be covered with your hair.” She grimaces, I’m guessing at all the blood.
“Although washing it will prove to be difficult.” She comes forward and reaches for me.
Hope grows in my chest, but instead of stroking my face or pulling me into a hug, she grips my chin and turns my face toward her.
“But can you imagine if you fell and cut your face? That scar would be hideous and permanently mar your beautiful skin.”
My chest tightens with the same dread it always does when Mom talks about my beauty.
I don’t care if I’m beautiful; I’d rather make things that are beautiful.
Like my paintings or drawings. One good thing about Dad’s company being so big and him being so well-known is that putting me in beauty pageants would only put my safety at risk.
Mom has talked about it countless times, but that’s the one thing Dad stands his ground on.
By the time Mom signs the paperwork to send me home and we meet Holt back in the waiting room, his hair is sticking up in every direction. His gaze quickly lands on the side of my head and his frown only deepens.
“Mrs. Price, I’m so sorry. I didn’t?—”
Mom puts a hand up. “No need to apologize, Holt. I know my Nova can be quite a daredevil. She’s just lucky this is the first time she’s gotten hurt trying to pull off one of her stunts.”
My heart sinks. I probably shouldn’t have tried to jump off the tree onto one of the cabin’s roofs. Especially with Holt looking out for me. I hang my head. “I’m sorry, Holt. It was stupid of me to do what I did. Please don’t think it was your fault.”
Holt’s expression turns sympathetic. “Are you okay?”
I shrug a shoulder. “I get to try a new hairstyle.”
He laughs but quickly stops when Mom gives me a stern look.
“Don’t do anything like that ever again. Do you understand me?” she asks.
“Yes,” I answer.
Instead of hugging me and telling me she’s glad I’m okay–like most moms would—she shakes her head. “We are so lucky it was on your scalp and not your face. That would have ruined everything.”
I look over at Holt, whose eyebrows are scrunched together. Clearly, he doesn’t understand the relationship Mom and I have.
“Well, I’m glad you’re okay, SuperNova.” He puts his hand on my shoulder. “Let me know if you need anything, all right?”
“I’m sorry for what I did. It was stupid.”
Holt leans down. “We all do stupid things.” Mom is distracted by her phone, so Holt drops his voice low enough that only I can hear him. “You know all the stupid stuff me and your brother have done. Just try to be smarter about it next time.” He gives me a lopsided smile.
“You’re so lucky you get to try out a new hairstyle,” Reese says before taking a lick of her ice cream.
I scoff. “Lucky?”
Reese shrugs as if falling six feet and splitting my head open was only a minor inconvenience.
I flip over my hair, revealing the splotch of pink skin on my scalp. “Do you think this looks cute? Because it’s definitely not.”
Reese rolls her eyes. “Anyway, did Holt take care of you?” She takes another bite of ice cream and looks at me dreamily. “I bet he was gentle. He’s so big and strong, but he’s also so sweet. Especially with you.” There’s a hint of jealousy on her face.
“Why would you care?” I ask. “Do you have a crush on Holt or something?”
Her face turns beet red. “N-no, I don’t. I was just wondering if you did.”
I narrow my eyes at her. Sure, I could push her and make her admit her own crush on Holt, but I don’t want to.
Reese is my only friend and the only girl in our school who hasn’t made it clear that the only reason she wants to come over is to see Chris or Holt—who is almost always here when Chris is.
“Okay, if you say so.”
“I do say so.” She gives me a firm nod of her head and takes a final bite of her ice cream cone.