Holding Onto Forever (Beaumont: Next Generation 1)

Sure I do, two years since you kissed me goodbye. I would never say those words to him so I let his statement hang in the air.

“I was here, before, when you were unconscious.”

“You were?”

He nods. “I have so much to tell you, Peyton, but you really need your rest. I want you to be completely coherent when I say what I have to.”

“Okay,” I whisper.

I don’t know how long Noah and I stare at each other before I fall asleep, but when I wake again, the sun is shining and the halls are much busier than before.

18

Noah

Thank God we won because seeing her baby blues is worth the shit my coach is going to give me for bailing on the press conference after the game. When the clock hit zero, I rushed off the field as fast as I could. It was completely unprofessional of me, and I could’ve easily waited since I asked my dad if I could use the band’s plane, but I wanted to get here. After the conversation with Quinn, this was where I needed to be.

“Sorry for not calling.”

“It’s fine. I get it.” I don’t, but the issues between Peyton and I are for us to figure out. Peyton and Dessie don’t get along, and I foolishly tried to keep them both happy, when I really should’ve focused on Peyton.

“Nah, man. My phone died and these nurses are vicious. They have a strict no phone policy. But anyway, my parents are filing a lawsuit against the doctor who performed Peyton’s surgery. A nurse came forward and backed the claim Peyton wasn’t taken care of properly. Xander is here and he brought some doctor from Los Angeles. My parents have been fighting with the board to give this doc hospital privileges so she can go in and fix everything.”

“What do you mean everything?”

“Shit, Noah. Peyton’s arm’s shattered. Her leg is busted up. There’s still glass in her side and the bastard didn’t sew her up right after they cracked open her chest. Mom is really worried about infections because we haven’t been wearing gowns and we touched her, and that’s another thing. We kept moving her arm. Who knows how much pain we’ve caused or the damage we’ve done.”

My mind goes blank, listening to Quinn. I definitely picked up her arm. I kissed the top of her hand and held it to my face. I didn’t want to let her go.

“Son of a bitch.”

Quinn sighs. “Anyway, she’s heading back into surgery on Sunday. It’s the only day the hospital would give the doctor.”

Sunday, while I’m playing in a game. I push the palm of my hand into my forehead and groan. For the first time in my career, I wish I had chosen baseball. I’d be off right now. I could be sitting next to her, watching games on my iPad or filling in crossword puzzles. I don’t care if we sit and stare at each other as long as I’m spending time with her. I feel like I have so much to make up for, but don’t even know where to start, assuming that I can. The one thing I do know is I want my friend back, and with Dessie and I no longer together, it can happen.

“Do you know what time her surgery is?”

“I don’t, but shit, Noah…”

“I know, Quinn. We have to think she’ll be okay. Better than ever when she gets out. I’ll be there after the game. Can you pick me up?”

“Yeah, of course. You gonna get into trouble?”

I sigh. “I have permission to miss practice if we win today.”

“You better win.”

“I will.” We hang up and I send a text to my dad, asking if I can use the private plane. It would be one thing if it were a jet, but considering the size of our family, the band opted for a full-size aircraft to haul us around when we’re all together. It’s a complete waste of airspace and fuel to cart one person. He, of course, says yes, saving me from having to depend on an airline to get me to Chicago quickly.

Kissing her though, while completely unplanned, is worth it. It’s been two years and some odd months since prom night. I was a nervous wreck while she was calm and collected. You would’ve thought I was the one about to lose my virginity, and part of me wishes I was, but I spent years fighting my attraction to her simply because our families wouldn’t approve.

But now I don’t care. I hate that it’s taken her accident and the threat of her dying for me to admit my true feelings for her. Surely, I’m not the first man to have a moment of clarity when he’s staring at the woman he’s loved for as long as he can remember. Those feelings for her, the ones I’ve buried deep down, hit me like a ton of bricks when I saw her in bed, barely hanging on. Waiting is no longer an option for me unless Peyton doesn’t feel the same way. If she tells me I’m crazy or we can never be together, I’ll tuck my tail between my legs and move on.

As luck would have it, Peyton was still sleeping when I arrived. I somehow encouraged the Powell-James family to take the nurses up on their offer and use their lounge to get some sleep because even she knew they weren’t leaving Peyton in this hospital by herself, especially under the circumstances and the likely soon-to-be lawsuit.

This time when I looked at her, I saw my future. I saw the woman I want to kiss after I win the Super Bowl, the one who will give me children, who will bear my name, lie next to me at night, listen to me complain about my aches and pains, and take every compliment I throw at her. I saw the woman who is going to keep me on my toes, call me out on my bullshit, and love me unconditionally. And I couldn’t wait to tell her.

Except spilling my guts the moment she woke up, was not going to get me very far. She was groggy and could barely keep her eyes open, but she knew I was there, waiting for her. And waiting for her is exactly what I’m doing.