Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 54852 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 183(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54852 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 183(@300wpm)
“I won’t.” I headed for a small bench by the parking garage’s exit, hoping he’d take the hint and stop the pacing and stretching. His penned, wounded-lion vibe was making me feel even worse about not telling him where I went. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”
“Me too.” He flopped down next to me as a large family with four kids came clattering down the parking garage stairs.
“You’re mad.” I waited until the family had passed to state the obvious.
“No!” he protested, but I kept staring him down until he relented, shoulders drooping. “Okay, maybe a little. But you don’t owe me an explanation or accounting for your whereabouts. I know that. I guess I’m more frustrated. I thought we were close enough friends that you might mention a trip out of town.”
“We are.”
“Oh?” Now it was his turn to give me a pointed stare. And okay, point taken, but almost anything else and I would have told him. Not that he was going to believe that.
“It was no big deal, and I didn’t want to worry you,” I said.
“Well, now I am worried.” Finn frowned. I’d never seen him go without a smile this long, and it was starting to freak me out.
“Don’t be.” Unable to resist touching him any longer, I patted his knee. “It’s nothing.”
“Nothing? I suppose it’s no big deal to you if you’re considering that job, but—”
“Job? What job?” I frowned. Why did Finn think I went to Boston for a job? What would— Oh. “My friend, the recruiter—I told her no when we spoke last week.”
“Oh.” Finn’s mouth stayed a perfect circle for a long beat.
“I wish you would trust that I’m not preparing exit strategies to get back to New York.” Bad enough that I’d had to drive seven tense hours and upset the best boyfriend I’d ever had. Now I had to deal with all his old fears on top of my present ones.
Finn blinked. “You want to lecture me about trust? When you still don’t want to tell me what’s up with you?”
Sighing, I leaned forward, hands on my knees. Wanting to spare him worry had led to this tight spot where I essentially had no choice but to confess. “I told you. I didn’t want to alarm you. It was a doctor’s appointment.”
“Doctor’s appointment?” Finn slid closer, instantly putting a big, broad hand on my back. “Are you sick? They sent you all the way to Boston?”
“See? This is why I didn’t mention it. I knew you’d be concerned.” I wasn’t proud. I leaned into his touch, soaked up what I could get. “I’m sure Burlington has a lot of great doctors, but my New York City cardiologist wanted me to see a colleague of hers in Boston.”
“A heart specialist? You were worried about your heart and didn’t tell me?” Exactly as I’d predicted, Finn dropped his hand and gaped at me.
“I’m always worried about my heart. You know that.” The hours of driving, nothing but me and an audio book that reminded me far too much of Finn, had tired me out, made my voice weary. Or maybe the effect was caused by this conversation.
“Yeah, but something changed if you were willing to brave that long of a drive.” Finn wasn’t stupid, and he knew me well at this point, something that both thrilled and frustrated me in equal measure. “As much as you dislike driving, you didn’t do that on a whim.”
“Fine. I had some chest pains. Nothing that urgent, but enough that I was concerned. So I made some calls.”
“Sounds like you were worried enough that you should have told someone.”
“Now you sound like my mother. Who, I should probably mention, wanted me to tell you. And I didn’t want to tell either of you because I knew you’d be all worried. I wanted to wait until I knew more.”
“Well, you thought right.” Finn surprised me by touching me again, back of my neck this time. “So? What did the doctor say?”
“She sent me for a number of tests. She’s calling me tomorrow when all the test results are back, including the lab work, but the preliminary results were good—normal blood pressure, good EKG, etcetera.” The doctor at the heart research center, one of the best in the world, had been nothing other than thorough, even managing to get me in for some more specialized tests so I wouldn’t have to make the drive a second time. And she’d had a very reassuring manner too, but still I lowered my voice to a bare whisper. “Her working theory is that it’s just anxiety.”
“You don’t have to get all embarrassed. That’s not a just. Anxiety is a real problem.” Finn’s strong fingers on my tense neck felt so good that I stretched toward him, not caring who might see us.