"I'm strangely riveted," I said. "Please continue."
"Okay, but full disclosure," Tolliver said, "my sister only sings the first verse and chorus, so I only know the words to those."
By the time we got to the hospital, he'd sung the first half of the song five times. I didn't sleep a wink, couldn't because he was so spectacularly distracting. Was it irritating? It should've been. But honestly, I couldn't remember a time I had been more entertained. I even almost forgot the reason I was in his car, where we were headed, and what I was missing—until we pulled up to the hospital.
Tolliver jumped out of the SUV, and by the time I got my seatbelt off, he was already there opening the door.
He helped me out, and I let him because it was a big step down. Even though I now knew he had an embarrassingly bad singing voice, I did not want to fall (again) in front of Tolliver. He held me until I was steady then moved away, putting his hands in his pockets. I could still feel the warmth of his strong grip on my waist. My skin was humming from his closeness. Gesturing with his chin, he said, "After you."
Trying to play down the odd effect his touch was having on me, I rolled my eyes. "Is this really necessary?"
"Yes."
"But I'm fine."
"We don't know that yet, Freya."
"You can't make me go in there."
His eyes flared with something. "Wanna bet?"
"No, that's okay," I said quickly, remembering how easily he picked me up in the parking lot. I had no doubt he would do the same now. That look in his eyes said as much. Opening the back door, I leaned in and retrieved my violin. No way was I leaving it behind.
"Good call."
"Yeah well"—I sniffed, moving past him with all the dignity I could muster—"you already threw a ball at my head. I don't want to add insult to injury by losing money to you too."
"Again, I'm really sorry about that," he said, following right behind me. As we walked through the automatic doors, I saw the look on his face. He did look contrite, as he should. "I'll do anything to make it up to you."
I waved that off. "No need."
"But—"
"This should only take a second. The doctor will examine me, agree with my assessment that I'm fine, and send me on my merry way," I said. "I'll meet up with HERS at their first show, join the tour, meet Ryker Cordova—my future husband—become famous, and live happily-ever-after."
"Ryker, huh?"
"Yep."
Tolliver was quiet a beat, then he met my eyes. "But what if you're not fine?"
I didn't even want to think about that.
"I will be," I said.
Tolliver left to talk to a nurse. She was young, maybe in her older twenties, and seemed to know him if the hug they shared said anything. They spoke in hushed voices for a few moments, and as she looked at me with concern, I wondered again who she was.
Tolliver came back and nodded. "You can go back now."
"Already?" I asked, scanning the waiting room. It wasn't overly crowded, but it wasn't empty either. We definitely weren't the first to arrive. "How'd you manage that?"
"They know me here," he said.
"Because you get injured a lot and like hanging out in hospital lobbies?"
"Something like that. My mom's an RN."
I tilted my head, studying him. "I bet you're a favorite of all the pretty, young nurses."
