Page 78 of The Dating Game

“Will!” I fly back to him, spotting a box of tissues on the floor and grabbing it on my way. I stuff the tissues onto his wound, pressing firmly against it. “Don’t you dare die on me, Will Barrett,” I mutter frantically. “Don’t you dare!”

He chuckles. Chuckles! Like this is funny. “You know, Luke mentioned that Hannah has a tendency to let her imagination run away with her. I hadn’t realized that was a family trait.”

“Excuse me!” I protest indignantly. “I am not letting my imagination run away with me! You sir, are bleeding profusely.” I’m not sure why exactly I just adopted a formal, sort of British accent, but what’s done is done.

“Brooke,” he says my name again, this time with tenderness, “I promise I’m going to be fine. It’s just a cut. Head wounds just bleed a lot.”

“You stated that fact entirely too casually,” I retort. “The wordsheadandwounddo not belong in a casual sentence.”

“My family owns an adventure business, remember?” Will says with another chuckle. “I’ve dealt with plenty of head wounds in my day.”

“I knew skydiving was dangerous.”

“Not from skydiving.”

“Sure.”

“Brooke.”

“Will.”

“Let go of my neck and come look at me.”

“No.”

“Brooke.”

“I can’t come look at you,” I insist loudly. “I’m too busy staunching the bleeding from your super non-casual head wound!” Wow. Good thing all the glass in here is already broken, because I just hit a pitch known to break glass.

There’s a beat of silence then Will’s hands raise up to clasp mine. Slowly he pulls them off the tissues with own hand, using his other hand to hold them in place himself.

“Now will you come look at me?” he asks, his voice low and gravelly.

“Fine.” I move around to stand in front of him, eyes still locked on where his hand is clutching at the tissues.

“Brooke, look at me,” he says gently, then lifts his hand to grasp my chin, tilting my face toward his. “I promise, I’m okay,” he says firmly. Tears spark my eyes.

“I know I’m being ridiculous,” I croak.

A smile plays across his mouth. “The first step to getting past that is admitting it.”

I try to laugh but it comes out as a sob. They say you never really know how you’ll handle a crisis until you live one, and I’m sorry to say it turns out that I don’t handle them well.

“Brooke.” Will’s eyes widen in alarm. “Honey, it’s okay.”

Even in my semi-hysterical state I still register that that is the second time he’s called me honey.

And that I very much like it.

It knocks Brooke-a-doodle right out of the park.

Brooksie, of course, was never even in the park.

“I’m sorry,” I say through my tears. “I’m just worried you’re going to pass out on me or something. Meanwhile you’re totally stoic over there even though you’re bleeding out of your head. You must think I’m a total basket case.”

He shakes his bleeding head. “I don’t thinkthat.”

I peer at him, noting the way his brow just furrowed and his eyes suddenly seem to stare at me with an intensity I can’t fathom the meaning of. “Will, are you really okay?” I ask, my concern doubling. “Because you have this sort of dazed look going on. Like you’re confused. Are you sure you’re not going to faint on me?”