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A penlight flashed in Matt’s eyes. “Pupils look fine,” an ER resident in blue scrubs said. “Can you follow my finger?”

Matt kept his head still and moved his eyes side to side as directed.

“Perfect.” The resident shoved the penlight into her scrub pocket. “Headache?”

“Oh yeah.”

“Not surprised. CT scan of your head looked okay, but I’d say you’ve definitely got a concussion.” The resident undid the Velcro holding the rigid collar wrapped around his neck. “Any tenderness or pain?” She pressed with her fingers.

“Not in my neck.”

“How about when you move your head side to side, or up and down?”

Matt did as she asked. “Feels okay.”

“We didn’t see any injury to your spine on the CT scan, so I think we’re safe to remove this.” She tossed the neck collar to the side. “Let me look again at those X-rays of your shoulder one more time. Might be wearing a sling for a while. All in all, though, I’d say you’re pretty lucky. One of the EMTs showed me a picture of your truck.” She let out a low whistle. “Can’t believe the other driver just took off. Kind of shocked he was even able to.”

Matt grunted. Gotta love a hit and run. “I won’t have to stay, will I?”

“I’m okay with sending you home as long as you’ve got someone who can keep an eye on you and bring you straight back to the ER if you start having any worsening symptoms, which a nurse will go over with you here in a bit.”

Matt gave a thumbs-up. Hopefully someone had gotten ahold of his mom or Aunt Gracie by now. If he was going to be miserable with a pounding headache, he’d much rather be miserable with a pounding headache somewhere far away from the sounds of other patients moaning and puking all night.

About thirty minutes later a nurse had his left arm and shoulder secured in a sling. “Sure you don’t want some Tylenol? You look miserable.”

“I’m afraid anything I try to swallow will only come right back up.”

“I can give you something for nausea if that’s what you’re worried about.”

He shrugged. The movement shot a bullet of pain through his shoulder. “You know what? Yeah. Give me whatever you got. Tylenol. Whisky. A belt to bite on. I’ll take it.”

The nurse chuckled. “Okay, cowboy, I’ll see what I can come up with.”

She returned with medicine that settled his stomach and eased the ache in his head enough that he was ready to ditch this place. “Were you able to get ahold of my mom?”

He’d lost his phone in the accident and the only two numbers he knew by memory were his mom’s and Aunt Gracie’s, which honestly should’ve won him a lot more points than just knowing the year and who the president was. If recalling someone’s actual phone number these days wasn’t proof he was good to go home, he didn’t know what was.

“We’ve left messages with your mom and aunt. Is there anybody else we can try?”

Before Matt could answer, the curtain was shoved back and a wild-eyed Rachel raced to his stretcher. “Matt. Oh my goodness, what happened? Are you okay? Wombat texted me on my way out of work. Said you were in an accident. Was it bad? It looks bad. You’re in a sling. Is that blood on your pillowcase? Why is there blood on your pillowcase? Did you hurt your head? Is that a staple? Did they have to staple your head back together? ”

As happy as Matt was to see Rachel, she certainly wasn’t doing much to improve his headache. “It’s just a staple, Rach. I’m okay. They’re actually about to send me home.”

“Home? They can’t send you home. What makes them think they can send you home? You have a staple in your head.”

“It was just a superficial laceration,” the nurse piped in. “The CT scan of his brain was fine.”

“Sure. Fine now . But what about later? What if you have one of those secret head bleeds where everything looks fine, and then next thing you know you’re dead and wearing a toe tag?”

The ER nurse took the green plastic barf bag that Matt never used and handed it to Rachel. “I think you need this more than he does.” Then to Matt, she said, “Please tell me she’s not your ride.”

“Darn tootin’ I’m not his ride,” Rachel said, waving the plastic bag around. “No way I’m taking him home in this condition.”

Darn tootin’ she was . Matt reached for Rachel’s hand. Squeezed. “Calm down. It’s just a little concussion. Now grab me my shoes so we can get out of here.”

“Little concussion. I don’t think so. Only place I’m taking you is to the intensive care unit.”

The nurse handed Matt his shoes. “Don’t forget to make a follow-up appointment in a week or two with the ortho doctor so he can make sure the shoulder’s healing okay.”

“Ha! As if he’s even going to be alive in a week or two.”

“Any questions about the discharge instructions?” the nurse asked, ignoring Rachel.

“Oh-ho-ho,” Rachel chortled like a deranged Santa Claus. “You better believe I’ve got questions. Starting with who is your supervisor?”

“No questions,” Matt said, getting up from the stretcher.

“You sure there’s nobody else you want me to call?” the nurse asked, sending a wary look at Rachel. “Like maybe security,” she murmured.

“Thanks,” Matt told the nurse as he sank back on the edge of the stretcher so he could put on his shoes. And maybe fight off a tiny wave of dizziness. “I’m good.”

“Good?” Rachel said as soon as the nurse disappeared past the curtain. “You are not good. You’re the exact opposite of good. You’re clammy, you’re pale, you’re shoeless, you’re circling the drain, you’re—”

“Rachel.”

He didn’t mean to snap at her, but good night, the girl was losing it. And he was about to lose his cookies if he didn’t get some fresh air. “My head hurts, my body aches, and I’d really like to pee in something other than a jug.” He pointed to the plastic urinal hanging off the side rail. “So stop acting like a girlfriend who’s crazy in love with me and just be a friend who’s here to help me put on my shoes so I can leave.”

Outside the curtained room, voices carried, monitors beeped, IV pumps squawked, stretchers rolled past. Finally she took a deep breath, dropped her gaze, and nodded. “You’re right. Sorry. I don’t know why I’m acting like this. We’re... we’re just friends. And you’re okay. Everything’s okay.”

Now that she’d gotten the hysterics out of her system, she actually made quick work of helping him into his shoes. A few minutes later, with her arm wrapped around his waist, she led him out the exit, across the ER parking lot, and all the way to the passenger’s side of her car.

“Sorry I freaked out back there,” she said, holding the door for him as he maneuvered into the seat, careful not to jostle his shoulder. “I mean, I know how I said I’d fallen in love with you, but I do believe we’re better off as just friends, so I hope I didn’t give you the wrong impression when I acted a little psychotic. I was only acting psychotic because we’re friends. Not because I love you. I mean, I do love you. As a friend. The same way I love everybody. We’re supposed to love our neighbors as ourselves, right? Do you think I should go back and apologize to that nurse and tell her I love her?”

Matt leaned back against the headrest and closed his eyes, wishing his world wasn’t spinning like a slow-moving merry-go-round, making Rachel’s ramblings that much harder to follow. “I think you should help buckle me into this seat and leave that poor nurse alone.”

He heard her sigh. “I don’t know what to do with you, Matt.”

Did she mean tonight? Or life in general?

Because he was fairly certain “just friends” never helped each other out as much as he and Rachel had this past week. Or act the way she had inside the emergency room a few minutes ago. Or look at each other the way she was looking at him right now after she leaned over him to snap his seat belt in place.

He’d cracked an eye open and was peeking back at her. “I know exactly what I’d like to do with you,” he said.

Her eyes widened and she leaned back a fraction. Whoops. Had that come out weird and creepy? It was supposed to come out smooth and sexy. And considering he couldn’t pull that off on a good day, let alone after getting his head slammed around in a car accident, he should probably stick to just breathing and not dying for tonight.

She still hadn’t moved.

Great, he’d freaked her out so much she was paralyzed. Matt started to open his mouth to apologize and blame his concussion when her weight settled on his lap and her lips were touching his lips.

Why were her lips touching his lips? Were they kissing?

Oh wow. They were kissing.

And now her lips were gone. Where’d her lips go? Why weren’t they kissing?

It took his brain way too long to catch up. By the time he said, “Hey, wait a second,” Rachel had already scrambled out of the car and was talking to Noah.

What was Noah doing here? Why weren’t he and Rachel still kissing?

“Oh, thank goodness,” Noah said, leaning into the car to unbuckle him—which for the record was definitely not as fun as getting buckled in by Rachel. “You scared your aunt and me half to death. So glad you’re okay. C’mon, buddy.” He helped Matt to his feet.

Why was Noah helping him to his feet? Why weren’t he and Rachel still kissing?

“Let’s get you home.”

Before Matt knew it, Noah had loaded him into his Jeep, and he and Rachel were headed off in separate directions once again.