Page 96 of Keep Me Safe

“Right now, if you’d like. He’s awake.”

“Yes, please,” I say.

We stop at the door to Noah’s room, and I look up at Jared.

“You can go first,” I tell him, taking a seat in one of the chairs lining the hallway. He deserves to talk to his dad without me breathing down his neck.

“Thanks,” he says as he steps into the room.

The words are muffled, but Noah’s voice soothes the remaining anxiety in my chest. My phone buzzes in my pocket. I check my notifications seeing a text from Al.

Al:Dave is going to be okay. His leg is broke in multiple places, and they had to intubate him because of the smoke, but they think he’ll make a full recovery.

I breathe easier with that knowledge as Jared emerges from the room, the heavy door clicking as it closes.

“He’s all yours,” he says. “I’m going to head out. Let me know if anything changes.” His voice is reserved, and I realize how badly I want the old Jared back.

I don’t respond as he disappears down the hall.

“Noah?” I say as I enter the small room.

“There’s my princess,” he says.

My heart stutters at that. This man can make me swoon even when he’s in a hospital bed with tubes in his nose. His left wrist is wrapped with compression tape, and a cut above his right eye adds to his rugged appearance.

“Come here,” he says, gesturing to the hospital bed.

“I can’t lay there with you, Noah. They’re going to yell at me.”

He tilts his head at me as if to say,since when do you care about getting in trouble?

I roll my eyes at him but obey his request anyway. I climb into the small bed as carefully as possible, not wanting to hurt him. He hisses as I lean into his ribs, and I instantly pull back, but he wraps his arm around me, pulling me closer.

“It’s fine. I’m just a little sore,” he explains, running his fingers through my hair.

I lean into his touch, my heart melting at its intimacy. He pulls my head to him, pressing a kiss to my forehead.

“You scared the shit out of me, Noah,” I scold, my voice breaking on his name. He holds me while I cry, rubbing my back.

“I know, princess. I’m sorry.”

I nestle my face into his chest, breathing him in.

“But I’m okay, I promise,” he tells me, guiding my face to look at him. “Now, when was the last time you ate?”

I look at the clock, noting the time. He’s not going to like my answer.

“Eight-ish hours ago,” I say in more of a question than a statement. His eyes narrow on me as he presses the call button on the bed.

“Noah!” I gasp.

A nurse steps into the room, his eyes briefly grazing over mebefore speaking. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, could I get some food sent up though? Maybe some chicken tenders or something?” Noah asks like he’s ordering at McDonald’s. The nurse chuckles, looking at him with amusement in his eyes.

“Of course, coming right up!”

He returns with two orders of chicken tenders, and Noah and I eat together. The nurse eventually tries to get me to leave, citing “visitor hours are over,” but he ultimately caves, my stubborn attitude coming in handy for once.

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