Page 87 of See You at the Finish Line

“Okay.” Paige breathes. “Okay.”

“This is a good news call, Paige. We are very hopeful.”

“Okay, thank you, Dr. Barns. Is she out of surgery?”

“Yes, she has been moved to the ICU for monitoring.”

“Okay. Thank you.” Her voice is breathless as the rush of adrenaline seems to dissipate.

“I’ll call you in the morning. Get some sleep.”

She hangs up and collapses into her seat. My hand is on her thigh again, though I don’t remember moving it there. I’m so tired.

“She’s out of surgery, Paige, and the doctors are hopeful. Hold on to that,” I tell her as the shadows darken her face again.

“Okay.”

“So it was good news. Let’s listen to the good doctor and stop to get some sleep.”

“Okay.”

“Is that all you can say right now?”

She nods.

“Do you have a hotel preference?”

She shakes her head.

“Alright then, you just sit there and I’ll do all the work,” I tease. She gives me the middle finger.

“I never lay back and let someone else do all the work,” she jokes, and I jolt at the innuendo. I was not expecting that and apparently, that’s all it takes to wake me up. A sex joke.

She laughs at my expression.

“You’re evil.”

“I know,” she says smugly.

I pull into the closest hotel, a generic chain I know will be clean and nice. I purposefully do not check my phone because I can guess how many messages are waiting for me from Whyatt. And right now, my focus is on Paige.

The check-in desk is occupied by a woman who looks no older than twenty reading a book. Paige sees it and perks up.

“That’s a spicy book,” she whispers to me.

“How spicy?” I’m intrigued.

“Spicy like clutch your pearls, hide it from your mother, pray to Jesus after you finish reading, and make sure your vibrator is on your nightstand kind of book.”

I don’t think I can speak.

“Isn’t that considered ... porn?” I ask. No judgement here, I’m simply fascinated by someone reading that in public.

She shrugs. “Some people think it is and some people think it isn’t. Who are we to judge?”

“Have you read this book?” I ask, deliberately not looking at her.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” she says as she walks past me. Yes, yes I would like to know. I’d also like to know if she’d be up for recreating any of it. For curiosity’s sake, of course.

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