Page 83 of One Killer Night
I feel lost because I’m still not getting it. My brows pull together, so she lays both her hands on my arm gently. “Golds, he doesn’t know how to ride the motorcycle. Why the fuck was he wearing the helmet?”
The smile on my face struggles to remain hidden because now I hear what she’s saying. She lifts her brows, emphasizing her words. “Are you seeing thefullpicture here? TheSixteen Candlesof it all?”
I shake my head. “No ... I mean, yes, but I’m not laughing two minutes after finding out he’s okay.”
She keeps giving me the same look, and it’s making it hard not to break. But then she shrugs. “I bet this is the first time in history being the embodiment of a red flag saved someone’s life.” Her laughter is way too contagious as she shakes my arm. “Oh my god. He was standing outthere, trying to Jake Ryan his Vikki’s Secret, and got hit by a fucking car. Oh my god.” She screams at the end, doubling over.
And now we’re both laughing. It’s the kind of maniacal cackle fueled by fear getting doused by relief.
She wipes her eyes. “I’m really happy he’s okay because this is the kind of shit you can only laugh at when someone lives. But I need you to promise me that as payment for my diabolical lies tonight, you will never, ever, let him live this down.”
I take a breath, rubbing my cheeks because they hurt.
“What’s funny is this is going to be Chase’s favorite part of the story. He’s going to tell it to everyone because it’s so on brand. Well, maybe he’ll love the fact you pretended to be his wife more.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she blurts out, all her humor suddenly lost. “Especially if someone from billing comes sniffing around.”
I chuckle before I look down at my phone again. Still no answer from Noah. I wiggle the phone in my hand.
“Hey, I’m gonna go out in the hall and see if I get more bars. I hate that I can’t see if anything’s been delivered to him.”
“Yeah, okay.” Evie yawns, stretching her arms. “I saw a vending machine on the way in. Will you get me some hot chocolate and maybe a snack?”
I give her a thumbs-up as I walk out of the waiting room and into the hallway, staring down at my phone. Some conversation passes, and I glance up toward a couple of hospital staff and smile before I walk a little farther down another hallway, hoping for a real signal.
“Come on, dammit,” I whisper to myself, only half noticing two guys in suits before I take another few steps.
But then my head pops back up, doing a double take.
“Oh my god, Noah.”
He’s standing in the middle of the two suits in a wrinkled black T-shirt, looking exhausted. His eyes instantly meet mine, and whatever’s being said to him is ignored as he hurries toward me, wrapping his armsaround me and lifting me off the floor. My words are spoken into the crook of his neck.
“When did you get here? Did you get my text? Chase is okay. We just talked to the doctor.” I draw my head back, looking at him. “My service has been awful. I didn’t know if you were getting any of my messages. I didn’t know if you were on the plane—”
“I got all the messages,” he cuts in. “You just weren’t getting mine. Baby, you were my fucking lifeline. Thank you.”
He kisses my cheek over and over before placing me back down on my feet. But my face stays lifted to his as he cradles it.
“Thank you for being here, killer.”
Noah’s lips meet mine, softly, making my eyes close and my body sink into his. I don’t think I’ve realized how much I needed to see and touch him until this moment.
He draws back, speaking inches from my lips.
“I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”
I’m gripping his wrist, staring up at him. I’ve never seen Noah like this. He looks stripped bare. Outside of the fact that it looks like he’s run his hand through his hair a thousand times. Or that I can tell he hasn’t slept because there are dark circles under his eyes. It’s the fear inside them that has me feeling like the floor is falling out from underneath me.
For the first time ever since knowing him, Noah looks afraid of something. I can’t imagine what he’s been through tonight. The fear he must’ve felt from almost losing his best friend in a similar way his mom died. I want to ask him if he’s okay, tell him to talk to me, but we’re interrupted.
“Excuse me, we just have a few more questions.”
Noah only half turns his head to the stranger. “I’ll be right there. Give me a second.”
I frown. “What’s going on? Who’s that?”
“Detectives.”
