“Anyway…” Mr. Serrano continued after I didn’t respond. “He didn’t mean anything by sneaking me out of here.”
“I know that, but it’s our job to keep you safe, so we need to know where you are at all times.” I opened the shades to let more sun into his room. “And apparently, this has happened more than once?”
“Yeah. The first time, I wanted to watch the Mets. This place has cheap cable, so I couldn’t watch the game here. The second time I was craving an ice cream from McDonald’s. If he brings it for me, it’s too melty by the time he gets here.”
I couldn’t help but smile. “Well, they didn’t want the third time to be the charm. So now you’re stuck with me.”
“There are worse people to be stuck with.” He grinned.
He’s such a flirt.
Then a deep voice startled me. “Goofy is the one joining us?”
I turned around to find a very tall, handsome man with a gorgeous mane of brown hair scrutinizing me. I now wished I’d worn anything but the Goofy scrubs today.
“Aspyn, this is my grandson, Troy.”
Troy.
I squinted. Those eyes. This was no first-time meeting.
No.
It’s him.
This is a nightmare.
Troy Serrano.
Good God.
Troy.
Serrano.
Somehow I’d never connected Mr. Serrano’s last name to that guy from high school. It had been eleven years, which was why I hadn’t immediately recognized him. His hair was a bit longer. But not only had Troy Serrano been one of the most popular guys at Meadowbrook High, he was also the ex-boyfriend of my best friend senior year. He’d cheated on her, and let’s just say I…went a little apeshit on him. And after that, we became enemies.
This was not good.
He looked me up and down. “Aspyn Dumont. I almost didn’t recognize you.”
Mr. Serrano looked between us. “You know the lovely Aspyn?”
Troy’s eyes narrowed. “Lovely? That’s not exactly how I remember her.”
Mr. Serrano smiled, seeming amused. “How do you two know each other?”
I cleared my throat. “We went to high school together.”
“Get out of town!” Mr. Serrano smacked his hand on the arm of his wheelchair.
I wished I could have. This very second. Far out of town.
Troy flashed a smug grin. “Yeah. We go way back. But we didn’t exactly get along.” His eyes met mine. “Isn’t that right, Aspyn?”
Without even knowing the extent of my misbehavior, his poor grandfather tried to defend me. “How is that possible? Aspyn is a sweetheart.”
“A sweetheart who keyed my car and put laxatives in my team’s donuts,” Troy scoffed.
“Not the entire team’s donuts,” I clarified. “Just the Boston cream one we knew you’d take.”
He glared. “Oh, right. Forgive me. You only tried to kill me.”
Mortification washed over me. If only I could sink into the floor and disappear. I cleared my throat. “It was a very immature thing to do. And I’m not proud of it. But at the time, I felt you deserved it for hurting my friend.” I let out a long breath. “Anyway, it’s been over a decade. No sense dwelling on something that happened forever ago when we were practically kids.”
“What did he do to deserve it?” Mr. Serrano asked.
“I cheated on my high school girlfriend,” Troy answered.
“Well, then she’s right. You did deserve it.”
Love you, Mr. Serrano. My stomach twisted. “Like I said, it’s ancient history. I’d ask management to assign someone else to chaperone your outings, but we don’t have the staff to accommodate an alternate.”
“Are we taking separate cars?” Troy asked.
“No, I was told to ride with you.”
“They don’t trust me?”
I raised my brow. “Should they?”
“You don’t have any keys on you, do you? If so, I’m not letting you anywhere near my car.”
I rolled my eyes. “Okay, I deserved that. And my keys are staying behind.”
“I guess you can come, then.” He smirked.
Troy wheeled Mr. Serrano out of the room. I followed to start what would undoubtedly be the longest two hours of my life.
I focused on Troy’s broad shoulders. He’d always been attractive, with an incredible body despite his ugly personality. But now he was like the boy I remembered, only better-looking—a full-grown man. I could only imagine the damage he’d done to poor, unsuspecting women over the past decade.
The August sun was nearly blinding as we walked through the parking lot. Troy drove a black Range Rover. Clearly he was doing well for himself. That didn’t surprise me. Men with the arrogant confidence he’d always exhibited typically went on to become successful—probably because they walked all over people to get there.
I helped Mr. Serrano into the passenger side before Troy collapsed the wheelchair and placed it in his trunk. I then situated myself in the back while Troy got into the driver’s seat.
The car reeked of his cologne. It was overbearing, just like him. His striking, bluish-green eyes locked with mine for a moment through the rearview mirror. I immediately looked away.