Undeniably charming Brian Peña fell hard for cunning Lauren Garrett his senior year of college, but Lauren harbors a huge secret that could destroy everything they've built.
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Never has a woman brought Brian Peña to his knees like Lauren Garret...
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Buzzing rakes through my brain or against my ears—I can't tell. It's hard to understand my body these days, but I can rely on some things. In the late afternoon, a thrumming rush of blood usually floods my brain during these exhaustive six weeks of recovery.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I roll back my shoulders to focus because it's about to roll over me like an impending wave. Crumbs explode across the desk as the cookie I drop thunks the wood.
I returned to work two days ago and found the cookies Sierra made me pre-accident were crusty, but she had Nick deliver a new box on his way to work. She baked three dozen the week I was released, advising me to freeze what I didn't immediately eat. This time, she suggested I share with my girl.
That routine humming is a strange sensation that I can't pinpoint; like my brain fires neurons, and somehow I can hear them detonate like firecrackers. I can't fight off the images either; split seconds before the crash play in my mind's eye without my permission.
A fuzzy vignette trims the edges because the accident almost feels like a dream. An excruciating memory I wish we could rewind and avoid.
***
SiSi laughed at something Nick said, and my chest felt so much lighter after dinner with my friends that I felt ready to face my fiancée for a productive conversation. I looked away for a beat—just a few hot seconds—and a pit dropped in my stomach when I snapped my head up.
Streetlights reflected off the hood and the shiny silver bumper that rammed into us first as that blue SUV barrelled toward us. I seized Sierra's head to protect her and hopefully the tiny baby inside her while she screamed my brother's name.
Events after that initial passing out are blurry, too. A panicked Chris roamed in front of his beat-up vehicle while tugging his hair; the other hand pressed his phone to his ear while calling for an ambulance.
Slumped over with her face mashed against the seat, Sierra grasped my hand. "Okay, B?"
I didn't answer. I couldn't. I desperately wanted to do something, say anything, and make sure she was okay, but I physically couldn't. I blinked slowly as her mouth formed silent words.
One minute, her drowsy, concerned eyes were trained on me, and the next, I was being rolled underneath blazing lights with doctors and nurses crowding the bed while we hurtled down the hallway.
***
Trepidation bolts through my veins, and I stand to pace in my office, trying to erase intrusive thoughts. Pacing helps me feel in control. I glimpse the time on my phone and breathe a sigh of relief, knowing Abby will arrive soon to drive us to the hospital.
The headaches from the swelling in my brain irritate me, and now and then, I force myself to ignore a shooting, searing pain that zips up my hamstring. My medical team was worried that my injuries were worse and that I would have lasting damage. So far, I've proved them wrong.
