Brendan followed Piper, catching her by the elbow before she could hit the call button. “Stay. We’ll drive home together.”
“Stop.” She batted his chest playfully, falling back on flirting. “You totally have to stay here and make sure Sanders is okay. I’ll just see you later!”
“Piper.”
“Brendan,” she echoed, mimicking his serious face while her finger desperately punched the elevator button. “It’s fine, okay?” When he still hesitated to let go of her elbow, she lost her bravado and begged him with her eyes. “Please.”
With a stiff nod, he watched her disappear behind the doors of the elevator, already missing the weight of her hand inside his. He wanted to go after her, at least kiss her before she drove home, but had a feeling she needed space. He just hoped the headway they’d made this morning on the journey to “more than friends” hadn’t been erased in a matter of minutes.
Duty and respect pulled at him, so while he vowed to make things right with Piper later, he turned on a heel and went to face his father-in-law.
Mick put up a hand as Brendan reached him. “You don’t have to explain, Brendan. I know you’re a young man with oats to sow.” He rubbed at the back of his neck. “Not a lot of fellas who’d be able to ignore a girl like that.”
“No. She’s . . . impossible to ignore.” He’d made it all of one day, hadn’t he? Less? Before she’d started feeling . . . inevitable. Brendan couldn’t help glancing back at the elevator. When he turned around, Mick was fixated on his ring finger. The lack of hardware surrounding it, rather. The lines around Mick’s eyes turned stark white and a sheen filled them.
Brendan hated the feeling of disloyalty that burrowed under his skin. Logically, he knew there was nothing disloyal about him pursuing Piper. Not at all. But this man who’d taken Brendan under his wing, made him the captain of his boat, and been a damn good friend and father figure . . . shit, disappointing him burned. It was right there on the tip of his tongue to explain that he was serious about Piper, not sowing oats, but Mick seeing he’d finally taken off his wedding ring was enough for one day. He didn’t need to hit the man over the head. Not when he probably saw the lack of Brendan’s ring as one more piece of his daughter being chipped away.
He clapped Mick on the shoulder. “Let’s go check on Sanders, all right?”
Mick, obviously grateful for the change of subject, nodded, and they walked side by side to the wing where Sanders was healing.
Chapter Nineteen
Piper dragged herself up the steps to the apartment and unlocked the door. Out of concern for her growling stomach, she’d stopped for coffee and breakfast on the ride home, making it close to noon. She’d already texted Hannah to let her know Brendan and the crew were fine, then promptly ignored all the follow-up questions about how things went at the hospital. Because . . . how did things go at the hospital?
Still not in possession of concrete answers, she trudged into the apartment carrying a cinnamon dolce latte for Hannah, half expecting her sister to be working at the record shop, but Hannah was lying on the top bunk, obligatory headphones over her ears, wailing about a simple twist of fate.
Piper knocked on the frame of the bunk bed, and Hannah yelped, shooting up into a sitting position and knocking the headphones onto the cradle of her neck. Her startled expression turned quickly to delight. “Oooh. For me?”
Piper handed her sister the cup. “Hmm.”
Hannah raised an eyebrow while taking a sip. “You look . . . different today.”
“I took a shower last night and slept with wet hair,” Piper murmured absently, sitting down on the bottom bunk. She stared at the far wall of the apartment—which was actually quite near—and tried to process the last few hours.
Her sister hopped down from the top bunk. “Piper.” She snuggled close, nudging Piper in the ribs with an elbow. “You’re too quiet. Talk to me.”
Piper pressed her lips together and said nothing.
“Oh, come on.”
Silence.
“Start small. Something innocuous. How was the drive?”
“I don’t remember.” Unable to keep a certain piece of news to herself any longer, though she would probably regret sharing at a later date, Piper reached over and clutched Hannah’s knee. “Hannah, he . . . he gave me a vaginal orgasm.”
Her sister almost dropped her coffee. “What? Like . . . you climaxed just from penetration?”
“Yes,” Piper whispered, fanning her face. “It was like, I thought . . . maybe? And then . . . no way. But then, yes. Yes, yes, fucking yes. Against a wall. A wall, Hanns.” She closed her eyes and added, “It was the most wonderful sex of my life. And he didn’t even break a sweat.”