Page 123 of Gold Rush

Rory rolls her eyes. “You really expect me to believe you didn’t use your phone all day?”

“I barely did.”

“So, you’re feeling fine?” Her eyes scan me over, like she’ll be able to see any injury.

“Did the chief of neurology at Mass Presbyterian say I’d be fine?”

Rory looks startled. “How did you find out about that?”

“Your grandfather told your dad, who told Kit, who told me.”

“So, you did use your phone.”

“Kit called me. I just had to tap a button.”

“It would have taken an additional three seconds for you to make a call.”

“Well”—I step closer—“I wanted to see where you defend so … publicly. And, yes, I’m feeling fine. No brain bleeds or anything.”

She scoffs, but she’s smiling.

“Are you trying to get your own building?”

“What?”

“I have my building at Harvard Law. Are you trying to get your own wing at New York General or something?”

Understanding washes across her face. “I donated anonymously. How did you find out about that?”

“Same phone call.”

Rory shakes her head. “There’s already a Kensington wing at New York General. I might have mentioned that to get in to see you sooner and felt a little guilty about it.”

“All that effort for me?” I’m teasing, but I’m also incredibly touched. Same as I was yesterday.

“Duh. You’re the only fake boyfriend I have.”

I’m really starting to hate the word fake, but I keep a smile fixed on my face. “Well, thanks.”

She nods, glancing down at the container in her hands.

I want to kiss her again, but I think that freaked her out yesterday. I hadn’t planned to do it. I just … did. I knew Rory showed up for the people she cared about. I just didn’t realize I qualified.

“I’ll let you get back to work,” I say. “See you at home. And call a car. Don’t take the subway this late.”

“Okay,” Rory says softly.

I smile, nod, then turn and start toward the exit.

“Flynn?”

I glance back. “Yeah?”

“Do you want a tour before you go?”

“Yeah. I’d love one.”

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