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Dylan laughed. “Pure determination.”
Alex grinned. “When it comes to you, that determination only grows stronger.” He sighed. “Dylan, I am so sorry.”
“For what?”
“You being shot. I should have put my foot down and not taken you with me. You could have been killed. I’m so sorry.”
“It was my decision, Alex. I’m fine—”
“But you could have died.”
“I didn’t though. I do not blame you for this. Why would I?”
“I guess it all stems from the way Sheila, and I argued all the time about how much she hated my job. I have no doubt that she would have blamed me if it had been her in your position.”
“I’m nothing like her.”
“I know that now, and I thank God that you’re not.”
As he gazed into her eyes and raised an eyebrow, she furrowed her brow.
“What?”
“Do you remember what you told me after you were shot?”
Heat rose in her cheeks, and she avoided his gaze as she shook her head.
“My memory is still a little hazy,” she mumbled.
“Really? Well, maybe it will come back to you, and you can tell me again.”
“Why should I repeat myself if I’ve already said it?”
“Said what?”
Dylan gasped at her mistake. Damn it.Stay calm. Stay calm.She shrugged.
“I don’t remember.”
Alex chuckled, leaned in for a kiss, then settled back into his chair but kept holding onto her hand.
“Has the doctor been in to see you?”
“Yes. He said I can go home tomorrow.”
“I’ll take you.”
“Don’t you have to work?”
“I took it off when I knew you were being released.”
“You don’t have to do that, Alex. I’m sure my mom would pick me up.”
“I talked to her. She said she’d watch Zoey for a few more days so you can rest. If you’d rather Peyton or Marlowe take you home, I understand.”
“No.” She grabbed his hand. “I want you to take me home.”
Alex nodded. “Then I will. What time can you leave?”
