She waved him off with a flap of her hand. "We both know you don't take just anyone up there." She looked over to him. "Have you been up there with anyone but Riley? Ever?"
"This isn't the time," he snapped.
"He hasn't," Whitney told me. "I only know about the place because Riley told me one time. They won't even take me up there."
She let out an exaggerated sigh, but this was a distraction from worrying about her father. The doctor hadn't said much since we arrived, and their mother hadn't left Jacob's side. Nurses bustled around the tiny hospital, looking worried, but never stopping long enough to give any information. As far as I could tell, Jacob was still alive. That had to be a good sign, right?
"You won't get on the back of a quad," Connor said to her.
"Not with the way you drive," she agreed. "I should object to you putting my friend in danger like that." She narrowed her eyes at him in playful warning.
"Yourfriend," Connor drawled the word, "enjoyed every minute of it." His gaze settled on me, his tongue slipping over his lips. Could he still taste me there? Was he waiting outside a hospital room for his father while my release was still on his face?
My face heated. "It was fun," I said half to myself.
"It was more than fun." Riley stepped into the waiting area, carrying a tray of coffees in one hand and bags of chips in the other. "I heard you screaming. While we were flying around the bends."
The bends, right. I gave him a smile of thanks as he handed me a coffee and a bag of chips.
"You know what would be fun to ride up there?" Whitney asked.
We all turned to her, likely thinking the same thing. Hopefully she was thinking something different entirely.
"What's that?" I asked carefully.
She squinted at me. "A horse. What did you think I meant?" She stared for a moment longer before grimacing and waving a hand in front of her face. "Oh. Oh gross. I did not need that thought in my brain."
My face got hotter. "You might have been thinking of a motorbike. Or a bicycle. Maybe one of those motorised scooters." All of those sounded like fun, but not as much fun as her brother and Riley riding me. Or me riding them. Or them, riding each other.
Fuck, could Whitney read my mind right now? I hoped like hell I wasn't too obvious. Or if I was, she'd pretend I wasn't.
"A motorbike would be much better," she said quickly. "If it's not ridden by a maniac like my brother. I swear, he has a…" She must have remembered where she was and why, because she clamped her lips shut and glanced towards the door to Jacob's room.
"I don't have a death wish," Connor said, his tone low but dark. "The opposite. I want to live my life." Coffee in hand, he stalked away to flop down beside Riley, at the other end of the waiting room.
"If you're wondering if he's always been an asshole, the answer is yes." Whitney followed him with her eyes before turning back to me. "I'm pretty sure he was born with two middle fingers raised, right at the doctor."
He flipped her off with his one spare hand.
"That sounds like him," I agreed. "Except maybe one for the doctor and one for the rest of the world."
Whitney laughed. "Yeah, that sounds about right. Riley probably came out ass first so he could moon them."
"Projecting much?" Riley grinned. "If you want to see my ass, you only have to ask."
"Hard pass." Whitney held a hand up in front of her face, palm out. "That'd be like seeing my brother's ass. I have some fun kinks, but that's not one of them."
"TMI, Whit." Connor grimaced.
"Don't be such a prude," she told him.
"Don't be a pain in my ass or I'll tell you exactly what we were doing up at the lookout with your friend," Connor said. He toasted me with his coffee before taking a sip. He made a face like he was ready to spit it out. "Ugh, what is this, fresh mud?"
"It is pretty bad," Riley agreed. "That's hospital coffee for you."
"I'm sure it's not that bad." Whitney tentatively took a sip. She looked a lot like her brother when she grimaced at the taste. "I stand corrected. And spare me from the details, please. I'll approve if I have to but I don't need facts."
"Don't need your approval, Whit," Connor said. "Who I fuck is my business."
