Page 89 of Time to Bounce

The little niggle in the back of my brain the last two days—one I refused to acknowledge—was no more.

“Thank you, I appreciate you calling.” I smiled, my heart once again light.

We hung up, and the first person I called was Gable.

“Hey,” he said distractedly. “Are you okay?”

“I’m healthy,” I answered.

He paused, and I could hear the relief in him as he let out a long breath. “Fuck.”

“I have an hour left of my shift,” I said. “Gotta go.”

“Love you,” he said quietly.

My heart stopped. “What?”

“Love you,” he repeated.

Yep, it’d definitely stopped.

“Do you think you can call 911 from 911, and someone would respond?” I teased. “Because I feel like my heart just stopped.”

“I said what I said, honey. Now go back to work,” he teased. “Love you.”

Love you.

Love. You.

“I love you, too,” I breathed.

Then I hung up.

Of course, now that I’d hung up, I couldn’t stop myself from squealing at my desk as I did a shimmy shake in my computer chair.

Which caught the attention of all my coworkers, and my boss.

Pat took her headset off and said, “Care to enlighten us?”

“He told me he loved me!” I called out.

Pat’s smile was breathtaking.

I loved Pat.

“Score!” Porfirio called out.

Marta gave me a thumbs up because she was on a call.

Speaking of calls, my phone rang in the next instant, and I answered it as professional as I could manage.

“911, what’s your emergency?” I recited.

“Oh, thank God,” I heard breathlessly said. “It’s me.”

It took me a couple of seconds to understand, but then I gasped. “Maven?”

“I really, really hate to do this to you. I really do. But I have two problems,” she gasped.

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