8. Olivia

Olivia waved at Laurie with one finger as she passed the nurse's desk. Dawson had been a patient for almost six hours now, and he'd already won over his nurse's heart. Granted, she was happily married and in her fifties, but Dawson had a way of folding people into his inner circle at record speeds.

"Did you get that boy something good?" Laurie asked.

Olivia held up the bag she carried. "Bison burger."

"And what's that?" the nurse asked as she tilted her chin toward Olivia's other hand.

"Milkshake."

Laurie hummed. "I wish I had a friend like you. Does he know he's lucky?"

Olivia rolled her eyes. "He knows. He's spoiled rotten."

A rolling laugh filled the area as Laurie pressed a hand to her chest. "That's the truth if I ever heard it. Tell him I'll be coming by in a few to give him more pain meds."

"I will," Olivia said as she continued down the hallway. She gave a soft knock on Dawson's door before opening it. "Honey, I'm home."

Dawson scooted up higher in the folded bed and took a long, deep inhale. "It smells amazing. You're an angel."

"You won't be singing my praises when I keep you up all night with my snoring."

Dawson reached for the bag and practically tore it open. "I am unaffected by your snores. The sound of your respiration makes me happy."

Olivia scoffed. "Has that line ever worked for you?"

Stuffing a fry into his mouth, Dawson looked up at her with wide eyes. "What do you mean?"

"I mean…" What did she mean? Sometimes, Dawson joked, but other times, it was easy to misconstrue his honesty for a tease. "Never mind."

He pulled two burgers out of the bag and arranged them on opposite sides of the tray table hovering over his lap. He unfolded the wrapper on her burger before pulling out the fries.

When the food was all laid out, he moved his injured leg to one side with a slight wince and bent the other to the side under the tray. He gestured to the foot of the bed. "Have a seat."

Olivia slowly lowered to the bed. The juicy burger laid out in front of her had her mouth watering.

Dawson propped his elbows on the table and clasped his hands. "You ready?"

Olivia bowed her head as he went straight into a prayer. She'd eaten dozens of meals with Dawson, and he always took the initiative to pray. She wasn't sure if it was because he enjoyed leading prayer or because he was unable to resist food set in front of him for long.

"Lord, thank You for this food. Thanks for letting me keep my leg today. I'm kinda attached to this one. Thanks for all of the doctors and nurses who are taking care of me and the other patients here. And thanks for sending Olivia. She's probably my favorite person You ever made. Amen."

Olivia lifted her chin and tilted her head to one side. "What was that?"

Dawson lifted the burger to his mouth and took a big bite. "What?" he mumbled around the food he chewed.

"Favorite person?" Olivia asked. "Prayers are supposed to be reverent, not funny."

"There's nothing funny about that. I pray for you all the time. I never joke about talking to the Lord."

Olivia kept her gaze locked on his bright-blue irises, and he didn't back down. There weren't even any laugh lines around his eyes as he chewed the burger.

Something tugged in her middle. Dawson always said sweet things. He always made people feel special. He always went above and beyond to show appreciation.

Anything kind he said to her should not be misconstrued for romantic interest. She wasn't special. She was one of Dawson's many friends. She just happened to be a woman who appreciated his kindness and found him ridiculously attractive.

Olivia turned her attention to her food and dipped a fry in the ketchup running out of the side of her messy burger. Dawson had already torn into his meal like a predator who had to kill to survive. "When was the last time you ate?"

Dawson scrunched one eye closed as he thought. "Yesterday?"

"Yesterday? It's almost seven at night!" Olivia shouted.

Dawson turned back to what little was left of his burger. "I forgot."

"How do you forget to eat? Seriously, no wonder your mom still worries about you."

"I was planning to run by Sticky Sweets for a breakfast sandwich this morning, but Grady called and asked if I'd help him fix his tractor, since he needed it up and running to bale hay as soon as the dew dried. So I ended up running by his store on my way over for some parts, and then I left his place just in time to make it to work. We got a call right as I was going to get some lunch about a fire at The Rock–"

"A fire!" Olivia dropped her burger, sending the top bun going one way and the rest of the burger falling on the other side of her makeshift plate. "Is everyone okay? How is Barry?"

"He's fine. It was a small fire, but the place will be shut down for a bit. I told him you'd probably put a fundraiser together to help with anything insurance didn't cover."

"Of course." She wiped her hands on a napkin and pulled her phone out of her pocket. She needed to come up with a plan as soon as she finished eating.

Dawson rested back against the pillows and shifted to readjust his leg. His nose scrunched up, and his lips pressed into a thin line.

"Are you okay? Laurie said she'd be in soon with more pain meds."

"I hope it's really soon," Dawson said. "It feels like my whole leg is on fire."

Olivia reached for the call button on the remote beside his bed, but Dawson stopped her, wrapping his whole hand around hers. A buzz spread from her fingertips to her chest.

"It's okay. She'll get here when she can."

"I'm a nurse. Trust me, she'd want to know if you were in this kind of pain."

"It's nothing I can't handle. She might be helping someone more important."

Olivia opened her mouth to say something, but the words were stuck–lodged in her larynx, while Dawson's strong hand gripped hers.

Dawson was important. While she often had to choose how to divide her time between patients, they were all equally important. Some were just more time-sensitive than others. He was right. Someone else could be in need of immediate help.

There was a quick knock at the door, and Olivia jerked out of the trance of Dawson's gaze. She pulled her hand from his, and he let her go without a fuss.

"So sorry about that," Laurie said as she stormed into the room. "Things always get crazy around shift changes."

"Are you leaving me?" Dawson asked.

"This is where we part ways, dear. Though, I'm leaving you in good hands," Laurie said as she winked at Olivia. "I need to give you more pain meds and change your bandage before I go."

"Try not to rip all of my leg hair off. I work hard to grow it out for the summer," Dawson said as he pulled the sheet back to reveal his bandaged leg.

Laurie clicked a few things on the computer beside the bed. "Oh, I'll try my best, but no promises."

"Did I tell you about the time I singed my eyebrows off?" Dawson asked Laurie.

"No, but I have a feeling you're gonna," she said as she reached for new gloves.

Dawson leaned back. "It was the summer after eighth grade. I was at a celebratory bonfire after we won the baseball playoffs."

Laurie administered the pain relievers, then Olivia leaned forward to get a better look as the nurse peeled back the bandage. Stitches ran in multiple seams over the side of his leg. The angry red mixed with the black lines.

"Dawson, you didn't tell me it was that bad," Olivia said.

He shrugged. "I've had worse."

"That doesn't mean this isn't serious." No wonder the doctor wanted him to stay overnight. A large wound offered plenty of risks for infection.

"Hey."

Olivia looked up and met Dawson's gaze. How could she not worry?

He gave her a wink that sent her heart into overdrive. "I'll be fine."

He was right. She saw patients every day with worse wounds, but it hit differently when it was someone she knew and cared about.

Dawson grabbed his phone off the tray table and started tapping on it. "I forgot to tell you. One of my reels went viral on Instagram today."

Olivia took the bait and ran with it. She'd welcome any distraction from her worries right now. "Really? I haven't checked since this morning."

He flipped over to his Instagram page. TheGoatGuy was just as popular as TheChickenChick, but they'd only had a few reels go viral since they started the pages.

He beckoned her over to his side, and she leaned close to him as a video showed him bench pressing two adolescent goats.

"Are you serious?" she asked, stifling a laugh that threatened to escape.

"It gets better," Dawson said, pointing at the screen.

He was curling two kids in the next scene, then a trio of them executed a series of drop-kicks from his back as he did a round of push-ups.

"At least you had your shirt on this time," Olivia said. His last viral video had won over millions of hearts because of the shirtless man instead of the cute goats. Even fully clothed, the fabric of his shirt stretched over his muscular arms.

"It's nice to know I'm loved for more than my body." He turned the phone around to show Laurie. "Have you seen my goats?"

Laurie chuckled as she watched the video. "You're a riot, boy. Heaven help the woman who ends up with you."

Dawson grunted as Laurie tilted his leg to expose the underside. "I'll take that as a compliment."

"Those meds should be working soon. Just hang tight."

His jaw tensed as he nodded. Olivia had seen more than her fair share of people in pain, but watching Dawson's uneasiness twisted something in her gut. He never complained, despite his many incidents.

Olivia had spent many a night making pointless conversation with Dawson's mom just to keep them both from dwelling on the sneaky fears of what he faced on a daily basis. After Asa was shot in the line of duty a few months ago, the calls became more frequent.

Dawson chatted about the goats until Laurie had finished her administration. She gathered the bandage packaging and dropped it in the trash. "Okay. You're wrapped up and good as new with fresh meds." She gripped the bottom of one glove and asked, "Do you need anything before I go?"

"Nope. You've been perfect. Thanks for taking care of me."

Laurie's cheeks lifted with her smile. "You're a sweetheart. I hope I don't see you again."

They said their goodbyes to the nurse, and Olivia lowered to the chair beside Dawson's bed. She took a deep breath as she released the tension she hadn't realized had tightened throughout her body.

Dawson covered up his newly bandaged leg and grabbed the milkshake from the tray. "You didn't drink this."

"It's for you," she said, still feeling a little queasy after watching Dawson's dressing change.

His brows pinched together. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I'm fine. I just wasn't expecting the wound to be so bad."

Dawson shoved the milkshake toward her. "Drink this. You look pale."

How embarrassing. She'd been a nurse for eight years, and she'd never once gotten sick.

Well, there was one time while cleaning a trach tube, but that was something she worked hard to forget.

"It's yours. I'm fine," she said, pushing the drink away.

He put the milkshake down and picked up a foam cup of water. "Olivia Mae, please drink something."

She accepted the cup and took a few slow sips. The uneasiness subsided, and she took a deep breath. "Thanks."

Dawson shifted his position in the bed and picked up the milkshake and took a big gulp. "Let's play truth or dare."

Olivia shook her head. "Nope."

"Why not?" he asked, completely unaware of why she might be against the game.

"I might have been born at night, but it wasn't last night. Nothing is off the table with you."

He held out the milkshake to her. "You say that like it's a bad thing. I just like to be up-front."

She grabbed the offered drink and took a sip. "There's nothing wrong with that, but not everyone is like you. Some of us have filters."

"Are you saying you have secrets from me? I'm hurt."

"I don't have secrets." She blurted her defense before the truth kicked her in the shin. She did have secrets–some she wasn't willing to share with even her best friend.

"Then you don't have anything to worry about."

"How about twenty questions?" She held up a halting finger. "But I reserve the right to refuse any question."

"I'll take it," Dawson said as he rubbed his hands together. "You go first."

Olivia sipped on the milkshake while she thought. She shifted in her seat. "Why did you become a police officer?"

"That's easy. You remember that time my family went to Montana to visit my aunt and uncle?"

Olivia scoured her memories, but nothing was striking a bell. "I don't think so."

"You know, when Uncle Max lost his job, and we spent the summer with them in Livingston?"

"Oh, okay. I remember now." She'd been around six, and Beau had been thoroughly annoyed that his friend was gone for the entire summer.

Truth be told, she'd missed Dawson that summer too.

"We got a flat tire on the way, and I was kind of excited because I knew how to change a tire."

Olivia scoffed. "You couldn't have been more than eight."

"I was, but I watched your dad do it, and I was getting my chance to show Mom what I knew. I had the jack set up under the frame when a police officer stopped to see if we needed help. I told him I had it handled, and he stayed and talked to me and Mom until I had the tire changed."

Olivia smiled, gently pushing the injustice that Dawson's own dad hadn't been the one to teach him that important life skill to the side. "And you wanted to be just like him?"

"No, he told me changing tires for people was part of his job and said I was well on my way to being qualified to serve and protect."

"That is the sweetest story," Olivia said. She could just imagine a little Dawson holding a grown-up conversation with a police officer.

"Plus, Mom always said being an officer was the only way I'd stay out of jail."

Olivia choked on the mouthful of milkshake. She coughed and sputtered past the burning in her throat until she could catch her breath. "You're lying."

"I am not. I never did anything terrible, but I didn't make things easy on her." He rested his head back against the pillow and his eyes fluttered closed for a second. "My leg feels better."

Those pain meds were starting to kick in, and Dawson was looking more relaxed by the second. "Good. You need anything?" she asked.

"No, but it's my turn." He reached out a hand for the milkshake, and she passed it to him.

He took a sip and only hesitated for a second before asking. "What's something about you that I don't know?"

Olivia turned his question over in her mind, trying to decide how to address it. She could go with something as simple as her first crush or something as big and convoluted as her unspoken feelings for him.

One memory stuck out and gnawed at her conscience. "There's something you don't know, but please don't be mad at me."

Dawson shook his head. His eyes glinted with joy as he held her gaze. "I could never be mad at you."

Oh, he might eat those words sooner rather than later. She picked at her fingernails and considered how to tell him. Ripping the bandage off would probably be best.

She looked up at him and sighed. "I didn't vote for you for homecoming king."

Dawson raised his head, eyes wide, and gasped. "Are you serious?"

Olivia hid her eyes behind her hands. "Yes. I'm sorry. I feel terrible. The guilt has been eating me alive for twelve years!"

"Because you have been living a lie! How could you?"

"I said I'm sorry!" Their voices were raised now. Someone would probably burst through the door any minute to break up the fight.

"Who did you vote for?" he asked quickly.

Olivia let her hands fall into her lap. "Micah Harding."

Dawson clenched his hand at his side. "Of course it was Micah. My constant rival."

Olivia humphed. "If the two of you were rivals, Micah had no idea about it."

She'd hung onto a crush on the eldest Harding brother for most of her high school experience. He was the strong, silent type, and she'd been drawn in by his broody, mysterious ways.

The joke was on her. Micah didn't have an ounce of attraction to her, but she'd only figured that out after basically begging him to ask her to the prom.

Now, Olivia was good friends with Micah's wife, Laney, and it was clear the two of them were made for each other. There might be someone for everyone in this world, but Micah and Olivia weren't meant to be.

Dawson shook his head. "Micah had no chance of winning homecoming king."

"And that's why you won," Olivia pointed out.

"No thanks to you!"

Olivia's smile cracked at Dawson's theatrics. Loyalty was one of his top virtues, but he also didn't hold grudges. That was her only saving grace. "Can you ever forgive me?" she asked.

Olivia's phone rang before Dawson could answer, and she reached for it on the tray table. Any casual comfort she'd built up poured out of her in a rush as she saw Anna's name on the screen.

"I need to answer this. She'll worry if I don't," Olivia said.

Dawson sat back in the bed and crossed his arms over his chest, resting the milkshake straw in front of his lips for easy access.

Olivia answered with as much nonchalance as she could muster. "Hey."

"Hey. What are you up to?" Anna asked.

Olivia played with a seam on the recliner as she spoke. "I'm sitting at the hospital in Cody. Dawson got attacked by a dog today."

"What? Is he okay?"

"Yes, he's fine. They wanted him to stay overnight to get some antibiotics. He should be discharged in the morning."

"Whew," Anna breathed. "That's a relief. I'll head on over there too."

The bed squeaked as Dawson sat up. He shook his head and waved a hand, mouthing, "No."

Olivia watched him for another few seconds. Could he hear the conversation? "Um, I think he's fine. I'm planning to stay with him tonight. His mom wanted to stay, but we didn't think she should try to sleep in this uncomfortable recliner all night."

"I don't mind! I'll come relieve you. I can be there in forty-five minutes."

Dawson cupped a hand beside his mouth. "We're good. Thanks for the offer though."

"Is that him?" Anna asked.

"Yeah, I'll put you on speaker." Olivia pressed the button and held up the phone between them.

Dawson launched into the conversation. "We're good here, Anna. Thanks for offering to come check on me. These meds are making me drowsy. I'll be asleep in about ten minutes."

"Oh, okay then," Anna said. "Call me if you need anything. I'd be happy to help."

"Thanks. I appreciate it," Dawson said, already relaxing back in his bed.

"Call you tomorrow, Liv," Anna said quietly before ending the call.

Olivia cradled the phone in her lap before looking up at Dawson.

He shifted onto his side and leveled her with an intense stare. "I forgive you. But I also want to know why you wanted me to be Anna's date to the wedding but not yours."

Olivia's chest filled with lead. The organs working to keep her alive jerked to a stop. "What?"

"Why couldn't I be your date?" he asked.

"It's not your turn to ask a question," she whispered.

"This isn't part of the game."

Okay, so he wasn't going to let her get away this time. She put her phone to the side and pressed her fidgeting hands between her knees. "Because Anna needed a date."

"Anna could get a date faster than I could eat a doughnut. Wrong answer."

He was right. Men lined up for Anna's attention. She had a magnetism that few people could ignore. "It would be weird if we went together," she said quickly. "We're friends."

"Our friends are getting married. We're both in the wedding. We'll be hanging out together anyway. What's so bad about being my date?"

Olivia jerked back. It was almost as if she'd been slapped. The last thing she wanted was for Dawson to feel like he wasn't good enough.

"There's nothing wrong with being your date. Any woman would be lucky to be your date."

"But not you."

Each word was a slap in the face.

She opened her mouth, but nothing came out at first. The hurt on his face split her in two. "That's not it at all."

"What is it, Liv?"

"It's not just a date. There are expectations, and–"

Dawson held up a finger. "There are no expectations. I would never expect anything from you or any of my dates."

Olivia waved a hand in front of her face. "That's not what I meant. I mean dates usually lead to more dates and relationships. That's not where we're headed."

The confession left her mouth cottony. A tingle burned behind her eyes.

"That's not where I'm headed with Anna either, but I'm taking her to the wedding. It's okay if you don't want to go to the wedding with me, but reminding me we're just friends would have been a lot easier." He ran a hand over his face, and his eyes half-closed as if they were heavy. "Maybe you're right, but I don't want Anna to have those expectations either."

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have tried to drive the situation. I just know Anna is looking forward to it now. I think you'll have a great time with her."

Dawson slowly nodded, and his shoulders sank. "I'm sure it'll be fun." His eyelids fluttered closed, then open again. "These meds are making me drowsy."

"Go to sleep. You need to rest."

His eyes closed, and he quietly said, "But I want to spend time with you. Without expectations."

Olivia swallowed past the ache in her throat. Dawson was so good. It was easy to love how much he cared for others. No wonder Anna raved about him all the time.

But if someone had to end up brokenhearted, it had to be Olivia. Anna was the one who picked up the shattered pieces when Olivia's mom died. Anna was the one who encouraged Olivia to get outside of her bubble and do amazing things. Anna was the best friend a woman could ask for–a sister who urged her to look to the Lord when things got tough.

The thought of hurting Anna burned more than missing out on a chance with Dawson. It was only a chance anyway–fifty-fifty at best–that anything could ever work out with Dawson. Those odds were even better than her chances of being able to have kids of her own.

Despite his playful flirting, she had to keep her guard up. In order to pursue anything with Dawson, she'd have to confront Anna, and having that talk would inevitably hurt them all.

Dawson reached out a hand toward Olivia and opened his eyes. "Come here."

She stood and hesitantly placed her hand in his–letting her palm brush against his. He threaded his fingers through the gaps between hers and clasped hard.

He looked up at her with tired eyes. "I'm sorry."

Olivia shook her head. "I'm the one who's sorry."

"You didn't do anything." His eyes fell closed, then slowly opened. "Thanks for staying. I promise I'll wash your car every week for the rest of the year."

Olivia chuckled. Her car was a disaster zone ninety percent of the time. She was usually too busy rushing from one task to the other to clean it out. "You're joking."

"I never joke. I don't know what you're talking about."

Olivia shoved his shoulder with her free hand. "Get some sleep. You're talking crazy."

He let their clasped hands fall to the bed as his head rolled to the side. "Okay."

When his eyes stayed closed, she waited a few more seconds before scooting the recliner closer to the bed so she could keep his hand in hers a little longer.