Page 77 of Cross Check Hearts

I try not to think about the class I’m missing or the paper I forgot. It really doesn’t matter if I skip the class, especially since I forgot the assignment I was supposed to be turning in for it anyway, but it’s still another fumble for me today.

I really need to get it together.

As soon as the thought zips through my brain, shame streaks after it for getting down on myself. Like Declan said the other day, I have a lot on my plate, so I probably shouldn’t be surprised that I’m overlooking some stuff. And I’m doing really well in that class anyway, so it’s not like one late assignment is going to be the end of the world.

But the perfectionist in me isn’t buying it. A real lawyer needs to be more on top of things.

My brain spirals down its familiar path of self-doubt, but then I feel a hand softly touch my shoulder. I blink open heavy eyelids, half expecting to see Stevie or one of my other school friends who saw me and stopped to make sure I’m okay.

But my heart does a somersault in my chest when I realize it’s Declan standing in front of me, his gorgeous face tight with concern.

“You came,” I say, surprise flickering through me.

How long have I been sitting here? And how did he get here so quickly? I’m not sure if this is real or if my headache is making me hallucinate.

“Of course I did. You needed me, so here I am.” He sits beside me on the bench, which creaks under his weight—confirming this is definitely real. “I was at practice, but I saw you’d called when we took a break, so I headed over as soon as I could.”

“And they just let you?”

He grins. “I may have made up an emergency. I’m just grateful I didn’t get a speeding ticket on the way here.”

I smile back, touched that he came all this way just for me. I didn’t mean to worry him—it wasn’t a real emergency, just a bad day—but I’m glad he’s here.

He studies my face carefully. “Are you okay?”

I shrug and close my eyes again, because the overhead lights are making my headache worse. I don’t want him to worry, especially after the slightly teary message I left him earlier.

“Hannah?” he asks softly, leaning closer.

“It’s nothing. I’ve gotten stress headaches before.”

More often lately, but I figure that’s just part of being in law school.

“Okay, but you didn’t answer my question,” he says, wrapping an arm around my shoulders.

“I’ll be okay. I took some ibuprofen earlier. It’s starting to help.”

That’s not entirely true, but the pain has eased slightly. I’m not sure if it’s the medicine or his presence.

The bench creaks again as he stands, and before I can fully open my eyes, I feel his strong hands on me. When he lifts me effortlessly into his arms, I gasp in surprise, wrapping my arms around his neck to steady myself.

“What are you doing?”

“Taking care of you,” he says simply, carrying me out of the building and across the parking lot to my car. “Where are your keys?”

I dig them out of my bag and hand them to him in a daze, and he unlocks the doors and carries me around to the passenger side.

“What are you doing?” I ask again, looking up at me with furrowed brows.

“I don’t want you to be alone right now, so I’m gonna take you back to my place. You’re in no shape to drive right now.”

“What about your bike?”

He shrugs. “I’ll come back and get it later. I’m not worried about that.”

I’m not feeling well enough to argue, and he’s probably right about me not being in any condition to drive at the moment, so I settle into the passenger seat without protest. He buckles me in before he closes the door as gently and quietly as possible. Then he walks around to the driver’s side and gets in, turning the key in the ignition. Before we set off, he rests a hand on my thigh and smiles at me.

I smile back, the knot I didn’t even realize I was carrying in my stomach unwinding slightly. As he pulls away from the curb, I lean my head back against the head rest, letting my eyes drift closed.

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