Chapter Eighteen Goldie #3
I nod. “I know, thank god. I don’t even want to think about what could’ve happened had he not.”
But she narrows her eyes as her smile widens. It’s then I can see her signature sarcasm gathering like a storm.
“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” I press, not picking up on what she’s trying to telepathically say.
“Goldie . . .” She emphasizes my name like I’m missing something.
“What?” I giggle.
She deadpans. “Listen, I’m only saying this because Chase is okay . . . But he had the helmet on.”
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 the full picture here? The Sixteen Candles of 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 out there, 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 arms around 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.”
My face brightens. “Did they find the people who did this?”
Noah shakes his head before kissing my forehead gently. “It’s nothing you need to worry about, killer. Just some questions for me because my bike was involved, that’s all.”
I glance at the men’s unreadable faces before I take a step back, suddenly hearing my sister’s voice, so I turn toward it.
“Hey, there you are.” She comes to stand next to me before hugging Noah in greeting. “They just told me I can go back and see him. We all can.”
I smile but Noah frowns, hitching a thumb over his shoulder. “You guys go first. I’ll catch up in a few minutes. I just have to deal with this.” His eyes lock to mine. “Tell him I’m here, please.”
I nod. “Yeah, of course.” But I hug him once more, not really wanting to let go.
He places his palm over the back of my hair. “Go on. I’ll be right there.”
My sister gently tugs the back of my hoodie when I don’t let him go, so I step back, looking at the detectives again.
I don’t know why I feel uneasy, but it’s just a gut feeling.
Or maybe I’m picking up on Noah’s mood because all the rawness I saw in his face, not even ten seconds ago, has completely vanished as he turns back toward them.
I frown as I follow the waiting nurse with Evie, glancing over my shoulder as I go.
Noah’s standing sideways, arms crossed while he rubs his tensed jaw. Both officers look down at their notebooks before each of them asks him something, but he looks so uncomfortable. His eyes glance up at mine, seeing me watching, before he casually turns his back to me.
“You okay?” my sister whispers, calling my eyes back to hers.
“Yeah.” But I glance back at him again. “Do you think he could be in trouble for letting Chase borrow the bike?”
“No. Why? Are you worried?”
The nurse stops and swipes her card in front of a secured door.
I shrug. “I just think it’s weird that detectives are here and want to talk to him. He was across the country. How could he even help them?”
I look over my shoulder one last time as we walk through the secure entry, and I watch him until the door closes behind me.
But it’s not Noah who’s staring back at me. It’s the detective with the little notebook. And his eyes don’t leave my scowling face until I blink first and walk away.
“You gave us a real scare, man,” Noah says as I lean into him.
Chase starts to nod but barely lifts his head, as if it’s too heavy, before he plops it back down on the pillow.
“Whoa,” Chase groans, still hoarse from the tube that was down his throat. “My whole body hurts. I feel like I got hit by a car . . .”
“You did,” Noah offers gently, making Chase scowl, then move his lips around as if he’s just discovered them.
“That’s not right,” Chase draws out, repeating the last syllable of the word a few times. “Cars hit deer and speed bumps.”
Noah grins at me, and I chuckle because Chase is so high.
“At least he’s feeling no pain,” I whisper, rubbing Noah’s arm. I look up at him, relieved to see him less stressed.
“You’re soooo pretty,” Chase slurs, turning his attention to Evie, who’s seated in a chair by the door. “How did I convince you to marry me?” He looks at us, trying to whisper but failing. “How did I convince her to marry me? She hates me.” His eyes grow wide. “Did she hit me with the car?”
Evie smirks along with a huffed laugh, but the nurse looks over her shoulder nosily.
Uh-oh. I make eyes at Evie to say something, because I’m not quite sure how much trouble we could get into since we aided and abetted an entire hospital in violating the HIPAA Act.
“Love is crazy like that, hubby,” Evie says, giving me a dirty look. “People do bizarre things in the name of it.”
I grin as the nurse moves past us, checking Chase’s vitals. His head lolls sideways trying to track her, making his eyes cross for a minute.
“How are we feeling, Mr. Beckett? Any pain?” the gray-haired older woman says, smiling down at him.
“We?” He lifts his shoulders and hands as he wiggles the fingers on only one of them. “How many of me are there?”
The nurse laughs, looking over at Evie. “He’s funny. You can sit with him now. I’m done. Tonight should be smooth sailing because of all the pain meds and anesthesia, but he’ll be back to normal by tomorrow.”
“Amazing. Looking forward to it,” my sister offers as Chase tries to hold his arms open for her, his casted one unmoving.
“Come to Papa,” he growls, making her wince until the nurse looks, which forces a fake smile from her.
I bury my face in Noah’s chest as he covers his laugh with a cough. Evie stands from her chair, glaring at me as she walks to Chase’s bedside and sits down slowly. But he’s already onto something new.
“Oh fuck, I’m broken?” He’s finally noticed his hand. He looks up at Noah and me with puppy dog eyes like he’s going to cry. “But I’m a chef, Noah . . .”
“Oh, Chase,” I rush out sweetly. “You’re going to be okay.”