Page 114 of Famous Last Words
“No, you’re doing enough covering my shift.” I manage a smile. “Thank you, again.”
“I told you, you don’t need to thank me,” she insists. “Let me know if there’s anything you need, okay?”
“I will. Thanks, V.” I move to my closet and take out some clothes. “I’m going to jump in the shower and head straight over to Robbie’s apartment. Hehasto be there.”
“Tyler and I are here for you guys, okay?”
I smile again, tears pricking the backs of my eyes, because I honestly don’t know what I’d do without her.
As soon as I hang up from Vera, I scroll frantically and hit the call button as fast as I can.
“Hey, this is Robbie. Leave a message.”
It didn’t even ring. He’s either on the phone, or it’s switched off.
“Robbie, it’s me. Please call me when you can. I saw the news. I know things are… confusing between us, but I’m here for you. I need you to know that. I’m on your side. Please, just call or text me. Anything.Please.”
I try Andy straight after. His phone at least rings but then goes to messages, and I decide not to bother leaving a voice message knowing that he’s likely in damage control. Instead, I send him a text.
Me: Is Robbie with you? I saw the news. Please just let me know he’s safe.
With a heavy sigh, I toss my phone onto my bed and hurry through to the bathroom to clean myself up.
Less than ten minutes later, I’m dressed, sliding my feet into my Vans and shrugging on my winter coat, grabbing my phone, keys, and purse.
I order an Uber as I hurry down the stairs, but the app keeps circling, checking for a ride nearby. And I mean, come on, this is New York City; there are more ride shares than people.
Bursting out onto the stoop, I’m hit by a freezing gust of air as the wind barrels across the street. I pull the collar of my coat up a little higher as I stand on the sidewalk waiting impatiently for the stupid Uber app to sort its shit out.
“Keller.”
A scream escapes me at the unexpected voice coming from behind me. I spin so quickly I almost lose my balance. I’m steadied by a pair of hands grabbing my shoulders, which is when I’m met with a set of familiar brown eyes staring down at me.
“Robbie!” I gasp,and before I know it, I’m flinging myself at him, wrapping my arms around his neck, holding him so tight I don’t even know if he can breathe.
Robbie’s arms encircle my waist, and he buries his face into the crook of my neck, holding me just as tight, and it’s only then that I realize I’m crying.
“I’ve been so worried,” I say through my tears, my words muffled by his jacket. Reluctantly, I pull away, forcing him back too, so that I can at least get a good look at him.
“Are you okay?” I ask, searching his face. What a stupid question; of course he isn’t okay. His eyes are bloodshot, dark circles shadowed beneath them. His face is pale, hair a mess. Suit crumpled. I assume he hasn’t slept a wink either, and I have a sudden urge to take care of him, because the sight of him like this breaks my heart.
“Robbie, you’re shivering.” I rub my hands up and down his arms, realizing he’s not wearing a coat.
“I couldn’t go home because the place was teeming with reporters,” he says so quietly I almost miss his words. “I’ve been walking around for hours… I ended up here. Sorry.”
My eyes bulge. “You walked here? From your place?”
He shrugs again and he’s so despondent, so unlike himself. “I followed the riverwalk down to Battery Park and just… just kept going.”
Holy shit. That’s at least a few hours’ worth of walking in the icy wind blowing across the East River. It’s got to be less than thirty degrees out. And he’s literally wearing nothing but a suit.
“Come on. Let’s get you upstairs.” I wrap my arm around Robbie’s waist, leading him up the stoop and inside.
As soon as I get him up the stairs and into my apartment, I don’t even remove my own coat before I start taking his clothes off. He just stands there, staring unblinking at the floor as I push his suit jacket off his shoulders. All he’s wearing beneath is a button down. He must be cold through to the bone. I unfasten each button on his shirt and turn him, guiding him into the bathroom.
The bathroom is still warm and a little steamy from my shower, and I make quick work of reaching in and turning the tap, allowing the water to heat up, producing more steam and warmth.
Turning back to Robbie, he remains in the same spot, staring at nothing. He’s a shell of the Robbie I know. And it’s both heartbreaking and terrifying because what happened to the slightly cocky, self-assured, pain in the ass Robbie Mason I know… and possibly love?
