Three pairs of accusing eyes turn on me. Ow.
Under their watchful gazes, I pull out my cell and swallow hard. “You know this isn’t going to work, right? You should try calling him again. Maybe his battery has run out, or…”
They’re still staring at me. Well, well. I kinda think that, no matter what Jesse says or believes, he’s made lots of good friends. They’re even ready to bake for him.
Who would’ve known?
I shoot them a nervous smile and call Jesse’s number. I honestly don’t expect him to answer—not after I blew him off so many times. Not after telling him I don’t trust him.
The call connects. There’s a pause, an indrawn breath.
Then I hear his low, bass voice. “Embers?”
God, I missed his voice so much. Missed him. “Hey.” I turn away. I don’t want his roommates to see me, in case I fall apart. “How is it going?”
Another pause, and I’m afraid he’ll hang up, but he puffs out a sigh. “It has been… kinda rough, to tell you the truth. You okay?”
He’s killing me, asking if I am okay. “Yeah. I’m fine. Your roommates were worried about you. Said you weren’t answering your phone.”
“My roommates?” I can hear the curiosity in his question. “My cell… fell. Case cracked. I thought it wouldn’t work again, but it does. I just turned it back on.”
“Oh, good. Stroke of luck.” Gage has gotten up and walked around the room to stand in front of me. Startled, I take a step back and give him a thumbs up. “So everything’s fine, then? Will you be coming back home?”
“Home.” His voice cracks, and w
orry slams into me. “Damn, Embers.”
“What’s wrong?” My heart starts to race. “Tell me.”
“It’s just that…” He swallows so hard I hear it over the phone. “Is it really you? Is this a prank? Because I’m not up to it right now.”
“It’s not a prank. I came over to your apartment to see you, and you weren’t here. Are you somewhere having fun?”
He laughs softly, and I find myself smiling. “Sorta. I guess when the painkillers kick in it might be fun. I’m at the hospital, but I’m being discharged, so I can go home.”
“The hospital?” I screech, my smile evaporating, and suddenly I’m surrounded by three huge, scowling guys. Eep. “Why? What happened? My God, are you all right?”
“Yeah, but Seth… He has a broken leg, and he’s calling Shane to pick him up. Maybe he can give me a ride.”
“The hell. I’m coming right now to pick you up. Where are you exactly?”
He protests, but gives me the name of the hospital. St. Mary’s.
“On my way,” I say. Love you. And I disconnect.
The guys make as if to follow me out, but I nail them with a stern look, and they backpedal.
Good.
“He’s okay. I’m going to him, but I’ll call you later and tell you more,” I promise them. “I swear.”
As if they could hold me back. Nothing can.
***
The emergency room is a mess of crying children, yelling mothers, people moaning and weeping and talking. There’s an air of stoic suffering that gets to me whenever I walk into a hospital. Not that I’ve been often, thank God.
I’ve also never had to look for someone admitted after coming to the emergency room, and cold sweat coats my palms as I look around for an information desk. Shaking the feeling a hundred pairs of eyes are trained on me, that the whispers going around are about me, making fun of me, saying mean things about me, I locate the desk and walk toward it.