“He asked for me?” Her heart expanded at least four times its size and her chest went tight. “Where are you, Brett? Are you with him?”
“We were both on scene at a car accident. I saw him get hit.” Brett paused. “He is one lucky mother fucker. Oops, sorry.”
“No, it’s okay. What hospital is he going to?”
Brett rattled off the name of the hospital, the same one she’d gone to when she’d been smacked by the door. She hung up the phone and in a haze, went to her boss, saying she had an emergency and had to leave work early. Grabbing her purse and her sweater, she started toward the elevator.
“Morgan, where are you going? What’s wrong?”
She turned to see Jenna chasing after her, a worried expression on her face. “I gotta go. Evan’s been hurt.”
“What happened?”
Morgan pressed her lips together. She didn’t know if she could stand the look of worry on Jenna’s face much longer. She was ready to completely lose it. “Your fiancé called me. He said Evan was hit by a car.”
“Oh, my God.” Jenna gripped her arm. “I’ll drive you to the hospital. You shouldn’t go alone.”
“It’s okay, I’ll be fine.”
“No way.” Jenna shook her head. “Let me get my purse.”
Morgan watched her friend run to her desk, taking a deep breath to calm her nerves. But it didn’t help. Panic rose within her, threatening to take over and she closed her eyes, ran a shaky hand across her forehead.
He was hurt. But Brett said he’d be all right. She could only hope and pray that was the case.
She couldn’t stand the thought of losing him. Had he heard her voicemail? It was doubtful. But he’d asked for her. And that gave her hope.
So much hope.
Chapter Eight
His head throbbed like a son of a bitch. In fact, his entire body ached and damned if he could figure out exactly where he was. Last he knew he was on the side of the freeway trying to do his job amid the chaos.
But then….yeah. The car had wiped past him, the woman behind the wheel with the shocked and horrified expression on her face. She’d clearly lost control of her vehicle.
And hit him. Well, brushed past him, knocking him to the ground but still he’d taken the hit. She could’ve killed him.
A rather sobering thought.
“Evan.” The soft, sweet voice drifted over him, through him and his skin prickled with awareness. It was Morgan. He’d recognize her voice anywhere. “Evan, are you awake?”
Yeah, he was awake, but he couldn’t open his eyes. It hurt just to try. So instead he remained quiet and still and focused on the feather soft bed he lay on, the blankets tucked tight around him. Her tentative fingers smoothed across his forehead, and he sighed at the gentle touch.
“You are awake.” It was Morgan. And he wasn’t dreaming. She stroked her fingers through his hair and she grabbed his hand with her free one, giving it a squeeze. “Or you can at least hear me.”
He could. He could feel her too. And it was so good, knowing she was there. Sitting next to him, touching him, sounding worried about him. He thought she was done with him. Finished. Kaput. Maybe he should get hit by a car more often.
Trying to turn so he faced her, he groaned when the pain shot through him and he fell back onto his back.
Maybe he should scratch that last thought. Getting hit by a car sucked balls.
“Do you need something? God, you must be hurting. I’ll call a nurse…”
“No.” His voice rasped and he tightened his fingers about her hand. Slowly, he pried his eyes open to find her sitting at his side, worry etched all over her beautiful face, her eyes rimmed with red.
Had she really been crying over him? The image tugged at his heart.
“Hi.” She leaned in closer and smiled, her face level with his and she sifted her fingers through his hair once again. “How are you feeling? Do you need anything?”