I frowned, confused by her anger. “I was trying to defend you.”
“Defend me?” She shook her head. “By punching the shit out of a guy in front of a hundred witnesses? Not to mention starting a fight with the guys who wanted you in the hospital in the first place?”
“Would you have preferred I walk away?” I challenged, getting pissed. I didn’t like the idea of anyone messing with her or even thinking about messing with her. So, if I got the opportunity to shut something down before it escalates, I will. I didn’t see the problem, but from the dark look in her eyes, she did.
Naomi stared at me like she didn’t recognize me. And that hurt more than getting knocked in the gut.
“I would have preferred you not risk getting hurt again,” Naomi said in a lower voice.
My anger faded when I saw the worry in her eyes. She wasn’t arguing because of morals—though I’m sure she’d stand against the violence. She was arguing because she’d been afraid for me.
“What if you hit your head again, huh?” she asked, her tone desperate now because she thought I wasn’t listening. “What if this time you didn’t wake up? There are only so many times someone can injure their brain before they start to see permanent damage. And you just spent an hour slamming into guys for fun in the rink! Yes, Finn, I would have preferred you walk away. I would have preferred you consider that some people love you and would rather see you awake and not lying in a hospital bed somewhere!”
I pulled her in for a hug. Despite Naomi’s stiff stance, her fingers curled around my shirt to hold me close. Lincoln and Henrik exchanged confused looks.
“Is this some kind of foreplay?” Lincoln asked.
I frowned at him and gestured for them to turn away. “Shut up and go see if you can spot Sam.”
To Naomi, I whispered, “I’m sorry. I thought I was helping you. Defending you.”
She shook her head, pulling back so she could look into my eyes. “I don’t want you to do that if it means getting hurt in the process.”
I held my hands up, trying to prove to her I was fine. “I’m not hurt. Look. I’m fine. Everything’s fine. I’m not going to hit my head, okay?”
She sighed. “I don’t want you to forget again.”
I nodded and pressed my forehead to hers. “I know, I understand. But even if I did—which will not happen—I’d still be here for you.”
“You can’t promise that.” Naomi lightly knocked her fist against my chest, a hollow attempt at scolding. I could already tell her anger was fading as quickly as mine.
“I can’t,” I agreed. “But I’ve fallen in love with you twice now. I think it’s safe to say I’d do it again.”
She let out a low laugh. The smile didn’t quite reach her eyes, but she looked like she was on her way back to her normal self.
“I’m proud of you,” I whispered.
She raised a brow. There were still fights going on outside of the bar. Lincoln and Henrik were currently whispering to one another about how to get back to the van without being noticed. I tuned everything out for a moment to focus on her.
“You got mad at me, and you didn’t hold back,” I told her."You weren't trying to be happy."
Naomi smiled as she considered my observation. “You're right."
“It was quite good. You yelled and everything.”
She touched her throat. “That part hurt.”
I laughed. “You’ll get used to it after some practice. Soon enough, you’ll be doing it for fun.”
“You know what I’d like to do for fun?” Lincoln leaned over to break up our conversation. “Not hang out in a bush that smells like piss all night. What do you say?”
Naomi wrinkled her nose. “Is that what that smell is?”
“Unfortunately,” Lincoln confirmed.
“You’re right,” I agreed, and let go of Naomi so we could focus on making an escape plan. “How do we want to do this?”
Henrik pointed toward a chain-link fence that surrounded most of the area. “Stick to that. The lampposts’ lights don’t reach out that far. We’ll circle around and eventually get to the van.”
