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Mikey busts up laughing, and Noah just grunts, something I’m starting to realize he’s good at.
“No? Your car?”
Please let it be your car. It shouldn’t matter because I sure as hell don’t need to be thinking of Noah as anyone other than the poor soul I almost killed, and I sure as hell don’t need to be lusting after him and all his inked-up glory. In fact, I should probably steer clear of men altogether. Especially after what happened with Mathis. (Yes, he wore tweed.)
Except this man isn’t at all like Mathis. At least I don’t think he is. Only time would tell, and well, time isn’t something we have a whole lot of right now.
“Yes,” Noah grits out between his teeth. “Nova is my car.”
Mikey’s eyes dance with amusement. He smiles knowingly, but doesn’t say anything else, instead choosing to focus his attention where it should be—on Noah’s leg.
In a matter of seconds, the motorcycle is moved and Noah is loaded onto a stretcher.
Glancing down, I assess the damage I caused. Noah’s leg appears to be nice and straight, which has to be a good thing, but blood has seeped through his jeans, and there’s a giant rip in the denim, exposing a nasty-looking cut above his knee. I have to look away before I throw up.
“It’s just a little blood,” Mikey whispers before loading Noah into the ambulance. He shuts the doors and turns to me. “Don’t worry, we’ll take good care of him. I’d offer you a ride, but a police officer is on the way to take your statement.”
My statement? “Right.” Because I just caused an accident. “Okay. I won’t go anywhere.”
Mikey smiles. “I didn’t catch your name.”
“It’s Lennon.”
“Lennon. That’s an interesting name.”
I wait for him to ask me if I was named after John Lennon, because that’s what everyone asks. But he doesn’t, and I’m grateful. It’s awkward telling people your mother has an unhealthy obsession with the Beatles.
Instead he says, “Well, Lennon, we’re taking Noah to Heaven Memorial if you, you know—” He shrugs. “—want to check on him later.”
I nod. “Thank you.”
Mikey nods, patting my shoulder before climbing into the ambulance and whisking Noah away. Seconds later, the police officer shows up.
Several questions, a not-so-well-drawn diagram of the accident, and one warning later, I find myself back in the car, winding through the streets of Heaven. I flick my blinker on when the navigation instructs me to turn left. Only instead of turning left, I turn right, following the small blue signs until I pull up in front of Heaven Memorial Hospital.
Turn around, I tell myself.
Of course I don’t listen. I’m too damn stubborn for that.
Chapter 2
Noah, Meet Lennon, Your Fiancée
Lennon
“Can I help you?”
“Yes, I’m looking for Noah Cunningham. He was brought in by ambulance a little while ago.”
The woman looks me over and she smiles, but it isn’t as friendly as it should be. “Are you family?”
“Um…” I shake my head. “No.” Her smile fades, and I quickly improvise because I know that look. If I’m not family, she won’t let me back there to see him. “Not yet, at least,” I say, mustering up as much conviction as I can. “I’m his fiancée.”
Oh shit. I can’t believe I just said that.
Too late now.
That makes her frown. “Noah doesn’t have a fiancée.”
