“Yeah. Why else would you be here?”
He sits on the bed and takes my hand. “You’re not dreaming, Nik. I’m really here.”
I gaze at him, still not completely convinced. “Turn on the light.”
He purses his lips but reaches out to the lamp next to the bed and clicks it on.
He looks pretty real. I think back to everything that’s happened since my parents and the others left. I can’t make sense of it. “Well, now I feel even more stupid.”
He huffs out a laugh. “Don’t. I think you were having a panic attack.”
“No.” I roll my head. “I don’t have panic attacks.”
“Hmmm. Okay.”
“It was some kind of cardiac event. Or neurological. I’ll probably go to the doctor.”Probably not.
“Maybe that would be a good idea.” He squeezes my hand. “You’ve been through a lot.”
I stare at him. “I’m okay.”
One eyebrow flies up. “Okay. Good.”
He’s patronizing me. Clearly, I’m a shambles. I push up to sit. “Really. I’m fine.” I study him. “You heard about the concert?”
“Yeah. Fuck.” He drops his head forward and shakes it. “I was flipping balls for the last three days.”
“It was only three days ago?” I say wonderingly. “Wow.”
“Only. Jesus.” He rubs his face. “When I first heard the news, I didn’t know if you were one of the people who’d been killed.” He looks so distressed.
“Oh. No.”
“Or hurt. Christ. I was ready to get on plane to Germany to come find you.”
My eyes widen.
“Didn’t find out till the next day you were okay.” He rubs my hand. “Thank fuck. I was still ready to come get you, but my teammates reminded me that I’d be benched or suspended or something if I missed a game for no good reason. Felt like a good reason to me, though.”
“I’m okay,” I say again, fascinated by his anxiety. Over me.
“You’re here. That’s good.”
I squint at him. “How did you know where I live?”
“Oh. Uh…” His gaze shifts away. “I used some connections.”
I don’t know what that means.
He senses my questions. “I called my agent and asked him to find out. However he could.” Marek makes a face. “I know it’s kind of stalkerish, but it seemed important.”
I don’t even know what to make of that. I’m almost… numb. Like, I should feel annoyed. Or flattered. I know that, but I don’t feel it. I don’t feel anything. “How did you get into the building?”
He presses his lips together. “I tried to follow someone in. At first she didn’t want to let me in. I said I was in a hurry to see someone who’s sick and needs help. She probably could see I was really scared shitless. So she let me in and we walked right past the doorman together.”
“Wow.”
“I may have done some slightly illegal things,” he admits. “Or broken rules, at the least. But I had to get to you.” His voice deepens with urgency.
