Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 65192 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65192 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Jess snorts and shakes her head. “Feeling good enough to make crass jokes is a positive sign, but no more moving. I want you to stay right there and let the EMTs lift you onto the stretcher. That’s their job.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I say, lowering my voice as I see the EMTs emerging from the back of the ambulance parked a few yards away. “You’re coming with me?”
She takes my hand, holding it tight. “Damn straight I am. If they won’t let me ride with you, I’ll grab a cab and meet you there. You’re not alone, don’t worry.”
And just like that…I’m not.
Jess still has my back—especially when it’s wounded—and I still have hers.
Or I will have it. If she’ll let me.
Holding her worried gaze as I’m loaded into the ambulance, I make a silent promise to show her she can trust me never to bail on our friendship again. Actions speak louder than words and I intend to spend the next two weeks proving with every choice I make that she comes first.
Assuming I’m cleared to move by the doctors, I’m going to come running right back to her, every time.
Two hours later, I emerge from the emergency wing of New York Presbyterian Hospital—thankfully they weren’t too busy this afternoon—to find Jess in the waiting room, reading a muscle car magazine. The moment she sees me, she bolts to her feet and rushes to close the distance between us.
“Are you supposed to be walking?” she asks, gripping my arm. “Should I get a wheelchair or something?”
“I’m fine,” I say, laughing at the suspicious look she shoots me in response. “Seriously. I’m okay. I just need to avoid any heavy lifting for a few days. I have a mild renal hematoma, but the bleeding has already stopped, and it should resolve on its own. They said to come back if I have any sudden pains or blood in my urine, but other than that, I’m good to go.”
Jess sucks in a breath through bared teeth. “Ow, urine blood sounds like a literal nightmare.”
“Agreed. But I’m going to be fine. The pain isn’t bad at all anymore. I’ve had worse bruises playing Hagar the Elven Knight at LARP events in London.”
She smiles. “I’ve always wanted to do live-action role play.”
“Why haven’t you?”
“I already design video games and have a Lord of the Rings action figure collection. I was afraid LARPing would be the thing that pushed me over the line from adorably nerdy to sentient pocket protector in woman form.”
I laugh. “Nah, LARPing isn’t nerdy. It’s hardcore. What’s more deviant than insisting on playing pretend as a grown-up? And doing it in public, no less.”
She cocks her head. “I’ve never thought of it that way, but you’re right. I may order that chain mail, after all.”
“You should. You’d be fierce in chain mail.” I nod toward the exit. “I ordered a car. It should be here in a few minutes. The nurses said there’s a pickup spot outside.”
“Oh, right. Yeah, I saw it on my way in,” she says as we start toward the sliding glass doors arm in arm. “Sorry you were back there alone for so long. I tried to con my way back to see you by saying I was your wife, but the front desk nurse laughed in my face. You were right. I’m never leaving the house dressed like a high school kid ever again. Looking sixteen vastly limits your con woman options.”
“Unless you were a young-looking cop going undercover at a high school to thwart a drug ring.”
She shoots me a sharp look. “Wasn’t that a show in the eighties?”
“It was. And a really dumb movie that I enjoyed immensely,” I say, wincing slightly as we step off the curb onto the crosswalk and my injured hip twinges a little.
Jess notices—because she notices everything—and tightens her grip on my arm. “Are you sure you’re okay to go home? They do understand that you were run over by a giant man on a giant bicycle, right? I mean, people have died that way. Lots of people. I googled it while I was waiting and read so many horrible stories my phone almost died. I mean, getting run over by a bicycle sounds funny and harmless, but it’s really not.”
I step up on the other side of the street without any pain, just a slight stiffness I sense will fade by morning. “I know. They told me I was lucky it wasn’t worse. But I promise, I’m fine. Just a little sore.” I stop by a sign announcing that rideshare drivers should pick up their riders here, but our car hasn’t arrived just yet. I glance back at Jess with a sigh. “But I should probably skip the speakeasy and take it easy for a night. You can have the tickets if you want. Maybe Evie or Harlow would like to go with you?”