“Sometimes,” he said, his voice softening as his focus eased off his work, “it makes the most sense to step back during the hardest push, to make sure you’re on target, that you have everything you need in place to make the project successful…and sometimes, even to make sure it’s still what you want.”
God, that was so…true. His advice so sage. How did he do that? And why did that suggestion sound so rational, so reasonable coming from Troy? But so unthinkable in her own mind? Unimaginable coming out of Chad’s mouth?
“Wow,” she said softly, half in awe, half teasing. “That’s…deep.”
A grin flashed across his face. “And I’m good-looking too.”
Laughter popped from her throat. Only Troy could make her laugh at a time and in a place like this.
He ran the backs of his fingers down her cheek. “Feels good to hear you laugh.”
But she was too exhausted to laugh for long. And even that pressure made her head ache, which meant Troy was right about singing. If she tried to get up on stage now, she might just snap her vocal cords and blow her brains out her ears.
“I should call Brook,” she said. “I’m sure she
’s talked to Chad, but she’s a worrier.” She glanced around for anything that looked personal. “Where’s my phone?”
“Brook’s already been here.”
Giselle’s gaze jumped to Troy’s. “Oh no. If she saw me like this… Oh God, she’s going to be freaked.”
“She’s stronger than you think, that one.” A sly smile tilted his mouth. “A little devious too. I like her. She’s an amazing friend to you.”
A soft spot opened in Giselle’s chest. “What did she say?”
“A lot. Like, really fast.”
Laughter rolled from her throat, but pain stabbed her brain. She grabbed her head with both hands, rocking back and forth. “Oh, ow. Ow, ow, ow.”
Troy massaged her scalp, and the pain faded into a dull throb. “She wanted me to tell you that she has you completely covered on the home front. Your mail, e-mail, social media—everything. She wants you resting and healing, and she doesn’t want to see your pretty face until you’re one hundred percent again.”
“Is that right?” she asked with a smirk.
“That’s right. She also said, don’t plan on singing until you’re cleared by Jacque, whoever the hell that is.”
Giselle gasped, and her mouth hung open in an expression of irritation. “That little…”
“Uh-uh.” He put a finger underneath her chin and forced her mouth closed. “That little has your best interest at heart.”
She heaved an exasperated sigh. “I know.” A moment of sweet silence filled the room, but memories quickly invaded her peace. She scanned his face, grimacing at the injuries. “Did I…do any of that?”
“The black eye with your elbow.” He pulled down the collar of his T-shirt, showing four raw, linear welts. “These. A few miscellaneous bruises. You’re stronger than you used to be, but, still, it’s nothing I haven’t dealt with before.”
She drew air through her teeth. A fresh wave of tears burned her eyes. How and why he’d put up with her and all her problems for as long as he had all those years ago, she’d never know.
“I’m so sor—” Her throat choked off her apology, and she lay back on the gurney, hands covering her face.
“Baby,” he said quietly, “you can’t afford any more crying. You’re already looking at a long haul to get your throat back to singing status, but more urgently, after the way you came in here, you need to get ahold of yourself before the doctor checks on you, or he’s going to hold you on a seventy-two-hour psych eval. That’s not going to do anyone any good.”
Ice chilled her skin, and Giselle gasped. Her hands slid down to clear her eyes, and she focused on him. Their past came spiraling back at her again in vivid, terrifying color. No, she couldn’t go through three days of lockdown and zombie-inducing drugs. That had never crossed her mind, and if word leaked to the press… “Oh my God. I totally forgot…”
“I’ve got your back.” He covered her hand with his, using the other to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “I know getting you out of here as fast as humanly possible is what you need most right now.”
Her heart flooded with a level of gratitude she couldn’t begin to describe. No one in the world knew her better than Troy. Brook ran a close second, but Troy knew her every flaw, inside and out. He knew her every vice. Her every fear. And after all that had happened between them, he was the last person with any obligation to help her, because everything he’d said in the cave was true. Yet, he was here, comforting her without judgment.
But the only words she could find among the torrent of emotions were “Thank you.”
A smile fluttered across his lips before it fell again. He picked up a piece of her hair and twirled it around his finger, his gaze distant, the way he used to whenever his mind drifted.