Eleven
We’rea fourth of the way into the movie when Axel’s phone rings.
He groans. “Not again. I’ll just let it go to voicemail.”
“Good idea,” I murmur, nestling deeper into the curve of his shoulder. It’s probably Zoe. I’ll be so glad when he ends things with her. Of course, that doesn’t mean he’ll be with me. I wish I could rewind time and take back the awful things I wrote about him. How could I have been so wrong? I guess that’s what I get for holding a grudge.
A couple of minutes later, his phone rings again.
“They’re not giving up,” I mutter.
This time, he pulls it from his pocket and frowns. “It’s my sister Cassie.”
My heart skips a beat. If he happens to mention my name, will Cassie connect that it’s me? London isn’t a common name, but Cassie and I lost touch after high school, so I’m probably not on her radar.
“I’d better answer.” He reaches for the remote and pauses the movie. “Hey sis, what’s up?” He sits up, punching out his next words. “Is he okay?”
The change in him is immediate. Something is wrong.
“I’ll get there as fast as I can.”
Apprehension slithers down my spine. “What’s wrong?” I ask the second he ends the call.
Anguish twists his expression. “My dad was in a car accident.”
“Oh, no,” I gasp. “Is he okay?”
“He has a brain injury and is being rushed into emergency surgery.”
My heart twists. “I’m so sorry.”
He jumps up. “I’ve got to go and see him.”
“Now?” I squeak.
“Now.”
“What about the weather?”
“I’ll charter a plane.”
“Will anyone even fly in this?”
“I don’t know, but I have to try.”
I nod numbly, knowing there’s no use in arguing with him. If my dad were in an accident, nothing could stop me from getting to him on the double.
He makes a call and paces back and forth. I can tell from his jerky movements that the news isn’t good.
“What’s the word?” I ask when he ends the call.
“My coordinator says no one’s flying tonight because of the sleet and freezing rain. Even commercial flights are grounded.”
“Maybe you could go tomorrow.”
He balls his fist. “I’ll go crazy waiting.” A crazed look overtakes his expression as he marches over and looks out the window. It’s still snowing, but not as hard as it was before. “I’ll drive. If I head out now, I can be there by morning.”
I balk. “In your Corvette?”
