We arrive at the hospital, and her parents eagerly walk in front of us as Sam eyes me a few times and then faces straight ahead. She bites the inside of her cheek in the elevator and stares up straight ahead, obviously something occupies her thoughts. When the sliding doors ding open, Jessa’s family rushes out, and I keep my distance a few feet back. Their excitement is apparent as her mom grips onto Jessa’s dad’s arm and Sam’s feet speed faster the closer we get.
Jessa’s laughter can be heard from down the hall, and her parents recognize it immediately, laughing to themselves at the sound of their daughter. We enter the room, which his already becoming filled with flowers and well wishes from friends and family. Jessa lies on the bed with her short dark hair pulled away in a clip, and Grant sits on the recliner, staring down at his daughter as she grips his pointer finger. Sadie is on the edge of the bed, until she spots Jessa’s family.
“Oh my god! Sorry, Grant, but give me her.” Sam rushes over and plops down right next to Grant, admiring her niece.
“Hi, Sam,” Jessa teases, and Sam playfully tosses her hand in her direction.
“My baby,” Mrs. Hamilton gushes over Jessa. Her hand smoothes over her daughter’s hair and kisses her on the cheek.
“Hi, Mom,” Jessa greets her, and Mr. Hamilton grips his daughter’s hand.
“You okay? Everything went well?” Her dad asks, and Jessa smiles, nodding.
“I’m great. She’s great,” she looks over at Grant and they share a smile, “we’re great,” she finishes, and the cheerful atmosphere is enough to make me puke.
I love Jessa and Grant, but I just want to go home. My phone is practically burning a hole into my pocket on whether to check up on Chrissy. I don’t even know if she had to go to work today or not. Regret that I should have taken the time to check in on her before leaving hasn’t left the whole morning.
While the Hamilton’s get introduced to their granddaughter and fight over who holds her first, I peruse the flower arrangements lining the windowsill. My head jolts back when I get a glimpse of the card on a very elaborate pink and white bouquet. It’s not the message, but the signature that grips my heart with a damn torque wrench; Love, Ryland and Chrissy. What the fuck is that? She’s worked there, what, two days and suddenly there’s a Ryland and Chrissy?
Completely flabbergasted, I leave the room to grab a hold of myself and somehow calm. Ryland and Chrissy repeats over and over in my head. My mind instantly shifts into overdrive thinking of other things with their names combined. Mr. and Mrs. Ryland Davis, Mrs. Chrissy Davis. My fist swings back and hits the hospital wall before I push off to get some air.
I’m in the waiting room, pacing back and forth along the length of the window that overlooks nothing but woods. What have I been doing with Chrissy? What does she want? Fuck, what do I want? Mid crazy thought, a peppy Sam bounces into the room and stops when she sees me. “There you are,” she says, and I stop pacing and stare at her. She really is beautiful with her dark long hair. Always perfectly curled with every stitch of make-up you can find at those department stores. Jewelry that matches her expensive outfits. I’m not even sure I’ve seen her wear the same pair of shoes twice.
“Hi,” I say, waving my hand in her direction.
“Hi,” she mimics me, even giving me the hand wave.
“I missed you,” she says, walking closer to me.
“You did?” I ask for clarification because I’m positive it’s only one part of me that she missed.
She jokingly pushes me against the wall and steps closer. Placing her hands on my face, she pulls it down so it’s within an inch or two of her face. “Didn’t you miss me?” she asks, and I nod unsure how to answer the question. I did until a week ago doesn’t seem right. I’m sure not what she imagined. “I’ve seen the baby, so why don’t you take me home.” She bites her bottom lip and seductively stares up at me.
“Don’t you want to spend more time with Adelaide?”
“We can come back afterwards. Hell, take me to your truck.” She presses on, her breasts brushing across my chest. Praying I would have worn a thicker t-shirt as her hand moves down along my body, and she grips my cock through my jeans.
“Shit, Sam. What are you trying to do?”
She looks around the room, noticing it’s empty. Eyeing the bathroom, she grabs my hand, tugging me forward. Before I fully gather what’s happening, I’m pinned against the bathroom wall, and I hear the lock click. This would have been my biggest fantasy, and Sam’s only worry right now would have been getting her hands dirty from being pressed against the bathroom floor.
“Sam,” I sigh as her lips raise to mine. As much as my body is responding to her—damn, my dick’s already bulging in my pants—there’s no way I can go through with this when Chrissy’s here.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” She backs up, finally questioning me. “We’ve done it in a bathroom before. Remember that airport in Denver?”
“Your sister just had her baby. Come on, Sam.” I plead the family card, and she narrows her eyes at me.
“Are you going soft on me, Dex? Trying to romance me? You know I don’t need that,” she counters.
Unable to figure an excuse out, I grab her hands in mine. “Can we please just wait until later?” I ask, and she raises her eyebrows at me.
“Okay … you have until tonight.” She takes her finger, and it travels down my chest. Gripping my waistband, she tugs me forward. “You better be worth my wait,” she says, and I chuckle uncomfortably.
Sam still amazes me with how similar we are. Both wanting the easy lay with no attachments or strings. If that’s true, why didn’t I just take her in the bathroom? Except for not having a condom with me, but knowing Sam, she probably has her own. I watch her ass sway back and forth as she walks ahead of me back to Jessa’s room. My head’s so fucked up right now. What do I really owe Chrissy? Nothing. It’s not like she’s trying to track me down to talk. Or that she had the decency to stay in the bed this morning.
I relax in the seat, giving Grant shit about being up all night and his party days gone. He only smiles and gazes at Jessa, who’s displaying the same cheesy smile. Sam hovers over her parents, desperate to have her turn at holding the baby while Jessa wolfs down her first meal in hours.
Being the Hamilton’s chauffeur, I sit back and thumb through a Sports Illustrated magazine, biding my time until they’re ready to leave. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot a shadow of someone in the doorway. Shifting my vision, my heart drops when I find Chrissy with none other than Ryland Davis. Chrissy’s eyes dart away from mine to Jessa while a very suave Ryland enters the room right behind her.
“Chrissy.” Sadie welcomes her and stands up from her seat. “Hi, Ryland,” she welcomes him.
“Hi, Sadie.” He walks over to Jessa and gives her a small kiss on her cheek. “Congratulations.” Reaching across, he places his hand in front of Grant, who proudly smiles and shakes it.
“Thank you, Ryland,” Grant says. “Thank you for the flowers, too,” he continues, and Ryland points to Chrissy.
“Chrissy picked them out.” His lips turn up toward Chrissy, and I’m confused on the whole couple thing going on between them.
“Ryland,” she flirtatiously lets out a breath and then walks over to peer at the baby. “She’s beautiful, like I knew she would be,” she remarks, and Grant sits on the bed next to Jessa, pulling his wife into him.
“Oh, Ryland and Chrissy, these are my parents and my sister.” Jessa introduces them, and pleasantries are exchanged between them. As though I’m invisible, no one even acknowledges me, until Ryland turns around.
“Hi, I’m Ryland Davis.” He sticks his hand out to me, and I want to spit in mine before shaking it.
“Dex.” I give a lift with my head.