She’d never met any of Jack’s other neighbors. Would they even help her if she screamed? She suddenly wanted to give Daniel hell for leaving. If he’d stayed, this wouldn’t be happening. Stubborn, sex-denying jerk!
“I’m Frank, by the way,” he called from behind her. Casting a look over her shoulder, she saw that he still stood by the elevator watching her walk away.
Find the key, put it in the lock.
“Nice to meet you, Frank.” The door unlocked and she pushed it open. “You and your mother have a nice night.”
Story cut off his answer as she closed the door and locked the dead bolt. With a deep exhale of relief, she slid down the door to the ground. When her heart began beating normally again, she shoveled the Twix bar into her mouth and chased it down with milk.
“This city is definitely going to kill me,” she said out loud to the empty apartment.
Chapter Fifteen
Daniel slipped into the hospital elevator just as the door closed on a car already filled to capacity. After checking to make sure the button for ICU had already been pressed, he looked back down at the last text message he’d received on his phone. Come quick.—Jack. Hundreds of possibilities raced through his mind as the elevator started to move. Had Jack gotten bad news? Suffered another attack? Did something happen to Story? He hadn’t seen her for two interminably long days, but upon receiving the message, he’d tried calling her on the way over. She didn’t answer. He glanced impatiently up at the ascending numbers just above the door, mentally urging the car to move faster.
When the doors opened in ICU, he took off down the hallway at a jog, but was forced to dodge the stairwell door as it swung open. Intending to walk past it without a backward glance, he did a double take when Story stepped out appearing just as panicked as he felt.
Relief flooded him, but irritation followed quickly on its heels. Nothing new, since he’d basically been a walking, talking asshole to everyone he’d encountered since leaving her the night of the baseball game. He was sleep-deprived and sex-deprived, and seeing her looking so damn pretty wasn’t helping matters. “I thought I told you not to take the stairwell by yourself,” he snapped.
She flinched, but kept walking toward Jack’s room. “I don’t have time to argue. I got a text message from Jack telling me to come quick. Have you heard anything?”
Daniel shook his head. “No. He sent me the same message. Got here as fast as I could.”
They both rounded the corner into Jack’s room and came to a dead stop. With one hand propped beneath his head, the other holding the television remote, he casually turned up the volume on an episode of Gilligan’s Island. Sensing their arrival, he turned toward them with a wide smile.
“Oh, hey, you two.” His brow furrowed. “What’s wrong? You both look out of breath.”
Story held up her phone and released a pent-up breath. “You texted me to come quick. I thought something was wrong.”
“You texted me, too.”
Jack pushed himself up against the pillows. “I knew I’d have better odds of someone showing up if I texted you both.”
Daniel and Story exchanged incredulous glances. “So what did you want, Jack?
“Breakfast.”
Story made a choked noise. “Breakfast?”
“The food here is abysmal.” Jack rubbed his chin. “I’m in the mood for a Danish.”
“Jack, I ran out of a briefing,” Daniel grated, massaging his forehead. “I thought something bad happened. And you’re telling me this is about baked goods?”
He shrugged his broad shoulders. “It’s the most important meal of the day.”
Next to him, Story practically fell into a chair. “I need a drink.”
Jack ignored her. “Daniel, show Story that bakery down on Third Avenue. The one that sells the giant black-and-white cookies.”
“Every bakery in New York sells giant black-and-white cookies.”
“Ah, you know the one.” He waved a hand in the air. “With the muffins and stuff.”
“We’ll find one.” Story stood. “In the meantime, no more emergency texts for food or you won’t be the only heart attack victim in the family.”
Jack turned his attention back to the television, where Mr. Howell was drinking a martini out of a coconut. “Sure thing.” Just as Daniel and Story were about to leave the room, his head whipped toward them. “Oh, wait. Story, since you’re both here, why don’t you pass on Hayden’s phone number to Daniel. After everything you’ve told me about Hayden, I think they’d really hit it off.”
Daniel’s surprised gaze shot to Story, who’d frozen and visibly paled underneath the bright hospital lighting. He watched closely as she hesitated, started to speak, then stopped. Flustered, she dug her phone out of her purse. “Oh, um. Sure. Okay.”
Daniel reluctantly keyed the number into his phone as Story read it off quietly, and filed it under “Never.” She refused to look at him as they left the room, but Daniel could practically feel the tension radiating from her. With the manufactured crisis averted, he finally took the chance to drink her in. Everything about her was soft and inviting, begging for his touch. She wore a pale-yellow T-shirt tucked into
a lightweight floral skirt. Near her neck, a red string peeked out over the neck of her shirt.
Unable to stop himself, he reached over and toyed with it. “What’s this?”
“A bathing suit,” Story answered brusquely. “Hayden and I are road-tripping to the beach today.” Impatiently, she pushed her hair over her shoulder. “Do you want to come with us? I promise to make myself scarce.”
With considerable effort, Daniel hid a pleased smile. “You can’t really be jealous. You’re acting like I asked you for Hayden’s number. That was all Jack.”
“You didn’t hesitate taking it.” They breezed past the vending machine where they’d met. The first time they’d been in that spot, he’d been willing to do anything to get her alone, beneath him. Now, he was doing everything he could to keep his hands off. Give her time to view him as more than a rebound. Daniel wanted to laugh at the irony of it, but he was in too much pain for it to be funny. Story punched the button for the elevator. “There’s no need to wait until I leave New York to call her. Don’t let me cramp your style.”
They stepped into the empty elevator. Daniel stood in front of her, looking down into her upturned face. Damn if her irritated little pout wasn’t turning him on. But the last thing he wanted was her feeling insecure. Especially over him and another woman. That was the very thing he wanted to avoid. Daniel took her wrist, drew circles with his thumb on the delicate skin. “Do you honestly think I’d use it?”
She shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t—”
A hand shot out to stop the doors from rolling closed. When Nurse Helen poked her head in and smiled, Daniel wanted the ground to open up and swallow him. He edged closer to Story in the hopes that she would get the message. No dice. He’d obviously done something to offend the universe, and now it was making his life hell.
“Hi there,” she greeted him cheerfully, without a single glance in Story’s direction. “You haven’t used my number yet. What’s taking you so long?”
With a tight smile, Story answered for him. “He’s lousy with numbers at the moment. I’m sure he’ll get around to it.”