Page 63 of A River of Crows

Dylan loosened his tie. “I want to be here with you. Unless it would make you more comfortable if I left.”

Sloan leaned her head back on the chair. “Are you always this nice, or is it a first date thing?”

“Guess we’ll have to plan a second date so you can decide.”

If they weren’t sitting in an emergency waiting room that smelled of antiseptic and vomit, Sloan might have kissed him right then and there. Instead, she reached out and took Dylan’s hand.

As if the action had somehow summoned him, the electronic doors slid open, and in walked Noah.

Sloan released Dylan’s hand and jumped up. “Noah.”

“Hey,” Noah said, finally peeling his eyes away from Dylan. “Is Caroline okay?”

“Not sure. They won’t let me back there.”

“Come on.” Noah placed his hand on the small of her back. “I’ll take care of that.”

“It’s okay that I left her, right?” Sloan asked two hours later as Dylan drove her home.

“Of course. She’s going to be fine,” Dylan said. “They’re only keeping her for observation.”

“She told me to go,” Sloan explained. “I wasn’t going to, but after she fell asleep, I figured it was a safe time to slip away. To slip out of these boots.”

Dylan pulled into the driveway. “I like your boots; they’re nice.”

“Well, that’s good because they aren’t comfortable. Had I known I’d be running down an embankment at Crow’s Nest Creek, I would have worn sneakers.”

Dylan placed his hand on Sloan’s skin where her jeans had torn. “And some sturdier denim.” He kept his fingers there and rubbed against her knee. She felt the contrast of the calloused fingers of a guitar player against her smooth skin. Dylan leaned forward, and she did the same, keeping intense eye contact. She closed her eyes in anticipation just as her phone rang from inside her pocket.

“Sorry.” A flush spread across Sloan’s cheeks, but Dylan just laughed.

“Par for the course tonight, right?” he asked.

“Yeah.” Sloan looked at Brad’s name on her phone and sent the call to voicemail.

“Should you answer? Might be the hospital.”

Sloan turned the phone to silent and threw it into her bag. “No. It’s Brad.”

“Brad, your brother?”

“Ugh. Don’t call him that, please,” Sloan said.

“Why was he calling?”

Sloan opened her mouth, then closed it. Dylan didn’t need to hear that she was trying to get in touch with Eddie Daughtry.

Dylan moved his hand from her knee and put it back on the wheel. “Felicity said you’d never even talked to Brad or Kyle. That you hadn’t even reached out to her since that night we met for dinner.”

Sloan’s muscles tensed. “You talk to Felicity?”

Dylan shrugged. “She’s called or texted a few times.”

“Has she?” Sloan scooted to the edge of the seat.

“Oh, come on. Felicity had more questions, just like you did. She’s trying to help your dad.”

“Just like me, huh? Did you take Felicity out to dinner too?”

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