Best Man by Christine Zolendz Page B

doctor turned back to me and narrowed his eyes. “If you’re feeling any pain you can take an over the counter pain reliever—ibuprofen or acetaminophen. No strenuous activities, avoid driving, and no alcohol for the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours.”
    “So no sex?” a deep voice asked from behind me, making me whirl my head around and wince. His voice slid over me with little spikes of heat and fire. He stood in the doorway, leaning up against the open door, smiling. His arms were folded over his chest, and his hair was a mess. Splatters of dark blood stained the top of his shirt, but his eyes were all over me, like he couldn’t get enough.
    “No,” the doctor answered him coolly, “no sex, no sports, no strenuous activities.”
    “Ew,” Travis grimaced. “That’s my sister.”
    The doctor cleared his throat. “Okay, then. I’ll get all the paperwork ready so you can be discharged.”
    “Ugh,” Travis mumbled under his breath. “Sex and discharge.”
    Casey smacked him on the shoulder. “Do you realize? Five hours? Five! Hours!”
    He laughed and pulled her into his arms, planting a kiss on the top of her head. “Yes, Casey, five hours. Five more hours and you’ll be Mrs. Me.” He gently tugged her out of the room and looked back over his shoulder at me and then at Luke. “We’ll give you some privacy to change, and I’ll go see about the paperwork with the doctor.”
    The doctor walked out behind them, nodding a curt goodbye in my direction.
    “How are you feeling?” Luke said, sitting carefully on the edge of the bed I was on.
    I nodded my head. “Better now that you’re here. I have approximately fifty-six billion questions.”
    He reached up his hand and tucked a strand of hair off my forehead behind my ear. “I’m sure you do.”
    “I have a feeling,” I said, swallowing hard, “there will be a lot of answers I’m not going to like.”
    His fingers softly touched the bottom of my chin, and his eyes turned soft and sad. “No, some things you won’t like at all.”

    I T TOOK another hour for all the paperwork to be finished and for them to find where my clothes went. Then, I was quickly shuttled to Casey’s mother’s house, briskly cleaned in a shower, and shoved in front of a make-up artist. “How much time before pictures?” I asked Casey as she walked into the room—fresh from her shower.
    “Two hours,” she hissed. “We have two hours for these people to make me look like I didn’t stay up in a hospital all damned night.”
    I felt my shoulders drop, but I offered her my best fake smile. “I’m sorry all this happened on your wedding day.” It was nothing, but a lie. I didn’t care about her wedding day. I mean I did care, before I was wire-tied to a radiator and almost raped, but now...not so much. Casey looked past me and scowled like it was all my fault—as if I’d ruined her wedding on purpose. I pinched my lips together and crossed my arms over my chest. “Stay still please,” the make-up lady mumbled.
    Casey’s chin lowered to her chest, and her hands fell to her sides. “I’m not mad at you, Maddie. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel like I didn’t want to be in the hospital with you. I just…”
    “Didn’t want to be in the hospital with me...that late?” I smiled.
    She smiled and nodded. “Gosh. I’m…sorry. I’m being selfish. I’m not even thinking of what you went through, and I’m over here whining about my tired eyes. I didn’t even ask if you felt okay to do this…you still feel up to being my maid-of-honor?”
    “Of course I do.” Of course I didn’t . My head throbbed like a bitch, the Tylenol I took hadn’t kicked in yet, and all I wanted to do was sit down and ask Luke what the hell had happened. And why it happened. What was happening? Where I stood. I tried to in the hospital, but there were too many people around talking over us or at us—and honestly—the pounding of my head made it almost impossible to