“Everything good, Parker?” Noah asks as I grab my bag and push past him.
“It’s fine.”
The lie comes easier than I’d like, but this is the very definition of an extenuating circumstance. I don’t have time to waste with explanations, not when Heather is stuck on the side of the road somewhere.
I just need to stop by the PT room and let Melanie know I’m leaving early, and I use the short walk across the facility to send another text to Heather.
ME: Where are you? I’m coming to get you.
HEATHER: It’s okay. I can get a ride. I didn’t mean to bother you with this.
I hate that she thinks she’s bothering me at all, and I start to type that out—along with how I wish she had called or texted meat the first hint of trouble rather than waiting around on the side of the road for some random-ass stranger to come by.
But my brain is on the verge of short-circuiting, and I can’t seem to make my fingers cooperate. So I delete the long, sugar-coated explanation and replace it with a shorter, simpler version.
ME: Address, please. Drop a pin.
“Parker. There you are.” Melanie’s voice distracts me from staring at my phone screen and waiting for a reply. “You’re almost ten minutes late. I was about to send out a search party.”
I wince. Ten minutes late is a big deal, at least to me. I’d normally have to be in a coma to show up that late to an appointment—let alone cancel completely after the fact.
But that’s exactly what I have to do right now, and I’ll have to set aside some time later to feel bad about it.
“Sorry, but I can’t make it to PT today.” I jerk my thumb toward the parking lot. “There’s been a sort of, uh, emergency. I have to go.”
“What kind of emergency? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Everything is fine—or it will be. I’ll tell you more about it later, I promise.”
She starts to say more, but I’m already out the door and jogging through the parking lot. By the time I get to my truck, my phone has buzzed again with Heather’s location.
She’s fifteen minutes away, assuming I don’t get stuck in traffic. Fifteen minutes that I already know is going to feel like a lifetime.
I drive faster than I normally would—still safe and mostly legal, but pushing past the speed limit in ways I usually don’t. I’m the guy who sets his cruise control at exactly the posted limit and stays in the right lane.
Rules exist for a reason, and I follow them.
But right now, getting to Heather is more important than staying at some arbitrary speed. It’s more important than anything.
I spot her car on the shoulder of the road before I even reach the exit. Her hood is up and her hazard lights are flashing, and I’m cursing myself all over again for not getting here sooner.
She’s standing off to the side, talking to a guy who keeps gesturing at the engine but hasn’t taken his eyes off her in the full minute I’ve been watching.
I pull up behind her car and cut the engine, double-checking that she’s not hurt and the guy isn’t bothering her before turning my attention back to him.
“Everything okay here?” I call out, maybe a little rougher than necessary.
The guy looks over and his brow furrows. “I’m just trying to help this lovely lady with her radiator. Looks like a busted hose. I’ve got a guy I can call and get it fixed pretty cheap.”
“I’ll take care of it.” I take a step closer to Heather. “And I’ll make sure she gets home safely.”
He looks skeptical but is clearly hesitant to challenge me. Instead, he looks past me to Heather. “Are you sure you don’t need anything else, sweetheart?”
Sweetheart.
I clench my jaw and force myself not to say or do something I’ll regret.
“Thank you so much for stopping.” Heather sounds grateful and a little uncomfortable at the same time. “I appreciate your help.”
