“Yeah.” A pause, as if the speaker were taking a pull on the beer. “It’s a lot swankier than I remember.”
Michael laughed and said something in return, but Audrey didn’t hear it. His response, the music, the pain in her legs, everything else faded as her mind zeroed in on the other guy. She knew that voice. Had dreamed of it over and over. Had heard it in her head, urging her on through all the grueling months of physical therapy.
Or maybe it was just that she wanted it to be him. Her nameless savior.
She turned around, hoping the sight of his face would jog her memory, but he’d already left the bar and was striding across the boathouse. He didn’t stop to speak to anyone, didn’t even acknowledge other campers were there. He just walked on out the door and into the night.
Before she could change her mind, Audrey shoved to her feet and followed.