Page 8 of Unwrapped
The technician answers and transfers my call to the pharmacist on duty. Jordana and Hudson continue to bicker while the others clean up the kitchen, erasing all evidence of his accident.
After I finish calling in the prescriptions, I end the call and hand the phone back to Talia. “OK, you were right. You don’t have any locals in stock. We should probably go to the ER—”
“I don’t need a hospital. Just do it here.” Hudson points to my bag. “You have all your shit with you.”
“You realize you’ll feel everything, right?”
“You say it like you haven’t stitched me up before. I can handle it.”
“I’ll remind you of that when you start to cry.” I turn to the others. “Summer said they’re slammed right now, so she’ll try to have everything ready in an hour. Someone can go pick them up while I do this stubborn fuck’s sutures.”
Jude pulls his keys out of his pocket and points to the foyer. “I’ll drive. I want to check out the renovations you girls did.”
“Wait until you see the soda fountain,” Jordana squeals, rubbing her hands together. “The contractors restored everything. It’s so perfect—authentic down to the tiniest detail.”
He grins. “As if you’d have it any other way.”
Talia chuckles. “She’s not kidding. The signage, retro bar stools, and the whole vibe of the room make you feel like you’ve stepped back in time. Jordy designed the menu and bakes most of the goodies you’ll see. I keep telling our parents they should’ve encouraged the pastry chef thing instead of forcing her into pharmacy school.”
“Jordy showed them, didn’t she?” Hudson muses. “Now they’ve got the best of both worlds in one kickass establishment.”
Jordana eyes him like his praise unnerves her. “You’re just saying that, so I keep giving you free food.”
“Woman, I’ll gladly be your unpaid chore boy as long as you never stop making those brownies.”
“I make them for the customers, FYI. Not annoying moochers like you.” She turns to Jude. “Tell Summer I said you can have whatever you want from the fountain.”
“You might regret saying that.” He glances at me. “Is there anything you think I need to pick up for Cami?”
“Uh, no. She should be good.” Just the mention of her name makes my groin tighten. “I’ll, uh, check on her shortly.”
He nods and heads for the front door.
“Good idea.” The hint of amusement in Hudson’s tone raises my hackles.
“What are you talking about?” I snap, still mildly annoyed by the fact that Sawyer is upstairs taking care of her instead of me. “What’s a good idea?”
“I mean checking on the Cam-ster.” His lips curve into a grin. “She might need a morethoroughexamination.”
I fucking wish.I’d examine every inch of her body if I could.
I clench my jaw instead of answering. I know Sawyer wouldn’t open his mouth to the other guys about my feelings for Camille. As much as Hudson plays the jokester hippie card, he’s clearly more intuitive than I gave him credit for.
“What’s the matter, Dean-o?” he taunts, waggling his eyebrows. “That one hit a little too close to home?”
Talia flicks the back of his head. “He’s gonna hityouif you don’t cut your shit.”
Jordana points her peeler at him. “Don’t make things any more uncomfortable than they already are. Dean deserves to relax for once.” Her eyes meet mine and soften. “And maybe you can try letting things happen instead of fighting them.”
“Nothing’s going to happen,” I mutter, rifling through my medical bag.
“You don’t know that.” After bleaching the counters and getting clean utensils, she peels a few fresh apples—undeterred by Hudson’s bloody setback—and slices them with her usual efficiency, once again demonstrating her baking finesse.
Even though I’m avoiding everyone’s gazes, I can still feel their weight.They know.Unease slithers down my spine with the thought. Maybe Sawyer didn’t tell them anything, but I’m not fooling anyone when it comes to Camille. There’s no other explanation for the matchmaking bullshit they’re trying to pull. I don’t have the energy to deal with an inevitable rejection, so it’s best if I shut them down now.
I spin to face them, crossing my arms over my chest. “Look. I get it. I know what you’re trying to do, and I appreciate the thought, but you need to stop.”
“We’re just try—”
