Page 72 of Falling Back to You

Really, man, read the room.

Noelle’s eyebrows flew up, and she blinked at me. Yeah, she’d witnessed the time I’d passed out over Shane slicing his leg on some scaffolding when we were roughhousing as kids. Blood and I had never been on good speaking terms.

“Is anything broken?” she asked.

Brandon shrugged. “There’s some nasty swelling, but nothing to indicate any fractures from a cursory check.”

“Have you done X-rays?”

“Not yet. After I get him stitched up, we’ll get him in for imaging to make sure.”

“So it could be a sprain?”

“She’s a nurse,” I cut in to explain the interrogation. Warmth spread through my chest. She still cared.

Noelle’s cheeks flushed tomato red. “Sorry if I came on too strong,” she said apologetically.

Brandon chuckled. “Not at all. What department are you?”

Noelle briefly explained her work in the emergency room, and, dang, if Brandon didn’t look impressed. I was impressed. Listening to her talk about emergencies was incredibly attractive. She’d always been calm in a crisis, even when we were kids. Her presence was more soothing than a sleeping pill. Still, I didn’t want to be the subject of such conversations.

“Where’s Khia?” I really hoped she didn’t see the fight.

“With Jules. She’s worried, so I promised to get the scoop and report back.”

Hating that I was the cause of that shadowy concern in her beautiful eyes, I reached out and squeezed her hand. “I’ll be fine in a few days.”

Noelle glanced at Brandon for confirmation. Not that I could blame her.

Brandon, don’t fail me now, man.

He nodded. “He’ll be out for a couple games and will need some PT sessions, but I don’t think it’s a major injury.”

“See, no big deal,” I joked.

She shot me a look. “I saw that hit. It was dirty.”

“DeSantos doesn’t like me.” I shrugged. “It wasn’t too bad.”

“They carried you off on a stretcher. Forgive me for getting the impression it was serious.”

“That’s because he hit his head,” Brandon added comfortingly, and a flare of jealousy burned my chest.

Brandon was a great guy—a doctor for crying out loud—but he wasn’t right for Noelle. Not even with his tousled dark hair, effortless tan, and easy Jack Callaghan smile.

Noelle’s forehead scrunched in an adorable frown. “Any sign of a concussion?”

“Nah, he’s good,” Brandon reassured her, and I glared at him. Stop being so helpful, my dude.

“Do . . . you need me to stay? For the stitches?” she asked carefully, her gaze lingering on my face.

My hand absently drifted to my left arm. She’d sat with me and kept my mind off the pain when I’d gotten stitches in eleventh grade after a skate nicked me. Kissing was a very effective distraction. My eyes dropped to her lips for half a second. “You offering to distract me?” I teased.

She flushed.

So she does remember. That made me grin.

“Stop flirting.” Lifting her chin, she said, “I was offering to hold your hand, but I can see you’re in good enough spirits without me.”