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Then my favouritest news reporter in the whole country appeared on screen.
Lindsey.
I grumbled under my breath.
And then I realised where she was. She was standing out the front of Jeremiah’s work.
“I’m here with Doctor Jeremiah Overton,” she said.
And there he was. The love of my life, the man sitting on the couch next to me right that very second, wearing the same clothes on TV as he was wearing right freaking next to me.
“You never told me she hassled you today!” I said. I might have yelled. “I said if those leeches harassed you one more time—”
“She didn’t harass me. I asked her to come over.”
I stared at him.
Stared.
Until my eyeballs dried out.
“When you lost all communications yesterday,” Lindsey said on the TV, “you used some thirty-year-old radar that still used old radio frequency, and you typed in the warning about the shortened duration of the eye, is that correct?”
The screen showed the typed message in the top of the radar screen.
“Yes, that’s correct.”
“And if that didn’t already make you a hero, we have footage of you saving two small children from a lightning strike yesterday,” she said. “And not just them; you saved myself and my cameraman.”
The footage cut to a shaky view from Shane running up the steps, then panning back in time to see Jeremiah skid in the mud, collect the two kids, and race back before the lightning lit up and blew out the fence.
Ellis pointed at the TV. “Holy shit, dude, was that you?”
“Yes, that was him.” I went back to staring at Jeremiah. “You asked her to come speak to you? I’m sorry. But why?”
He shrugged. “Because I had something to say.”
I looked back at the TV, to the Jeremiah on screen. Lindsey was smiling at him in a way that made me want to poke her in the eye.
“This footage has gone viral,” she said. “What do you have to say to the people who are calling you a hero?”
On-screen Jeremiah looked right at the camera. “Nothing. I’m not a hero. I just had no other way to let my dad know I was okay. He’s in Melbourne. Dad, if you’re watching this, I’m fine and I’ll call you when the phone towers are back up.”
Then on-screen Jeremiah smiled at Lindsey and simply turned and walked back up to the office. Lindsey stood there with her microphone, not knowing what else to say.
I snorted out a laugh because that was funny as hell, but then I looked at Jeremiah next to me, and with a heavy sigh, I dropped my forehead to his shoulder. “God, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t even think. Your dad must have been worried, and you... You must have been so...” I looked up at him. “And I didn’t even stop to think. I’m a terrible boyfriend. I’m so sorry.”
Jeremiah took my hand. “My father would have been mildly concerned at best. I just thought he might like to know, and when someone from Channel 4 came to collect the van, I told them to pass on a message to come interview me. They used me, so I used them. I think she was hoping for some exclusive scoop or whatever. But anyway, it doesn’t matter. Hopefully my father sees that.”
I still felt bad.
“I’m sure he was more than mildly concerned,” I offered. “But still, I’m sorry. We got home last night and crashed, then we were up and gone this morning. I barely had time to speak to you, and then I spent all afternoon sulking like a fucking child. I should have been more considerate.”
“You were,” he said.
“What? Considerate? Or sulking like a child?” I asked, then regretted it because I didn’t want to know. I already knew. “You don’t need to answer. I’m sorry.”
Jeremiah laughed and he nudged his knee to mine. When I met his gaze, his eyes were happy and soft. He was still holding the bird, which we still hadn’t named.
