Page 18 of The One Night Dash
“Nothing.” He shakes his head. “But a selfie would be cool.”
“Done.”
I point to her phone. “Could you put that in a body bag?”
He does just that, and when he hands it to her, I ask, “Your name?”
“Please don’t file a complaint. As much as this job sucks, I need the fifteen hours I get.”
I shake my head and smile. “For the tickets. You can grab them at the box office. We have a home games next Tuesday.
“Tony, Tony Keats.” He continues, he and Noelle saying the same thing at the same time, “Like the poet.”
“Oh my God.” She laughs.
“He’s the one who wanted boob pillows?” I joke, and they both look at me like I just slapped a nun. I roll my eyes. “Let’s roll, Pembrooke.”
Inside the SUV,I pull my phone from my pocket. “You can use the personal one while you wait on insurance. That way, you’re not walking around off the grid like it’s 1999.”
She shakes her head fast. “No. Absolutely not. I’m not hijacking your phone. I’ll live without one for a few days.”
“Not happening. I don’t like the idea of you, or any female, being unable to get in touch with someone if need be.”
She hesitates, biting her lip, glancing between me and the phone like it may bite her. “Dash?—”
“Take it, Noelle,” I cut her off, low and firm. “Humor me. I won’t relax if I know you don’t have a line to someone if you need it.”
Her mouth opens, ready to fight me on it, but then she sees something in my face, and it just registers that I won’t budge.
“You’re impossible,” she mutters, snatching the phone and placing it on her lap.
“Yep.” I grin, satisfied.
“Impossible,” she repeats.
“Maybe. But at least now I can text you when your perfect dress is ready.”
“True.” She sighs and leans back.
Joel pulls into traffic without a word.
For a while, it’s quiet. Just the hum of the city outside, the rhythm of tires over asphalt, her soft exhale as she stares out the window. I should leave it. Let her cool off. But I can’t help myself.
“You’re welcome, by the way.”
Her head whips around. “Oh my God, I suck. You’ve done so much?—”
“Messing with you.” I point to the phone. “You wouldn’t last a day without it.”
Her brows shoot up, lips parting like she’s ready to bite back. “I would’ve managed.”
“Sure,” I say, grinning. “Like cavemen managed without heat. Doesn’t mean it was a good time.”
Her sigh is dramatic, arms folding across her chest, but I catch it—the tiny tug at the corner of her mouth.
“I don’t need you to babysit me, Dash.”
“I know.” I tap my knee against her. “And trust me, that roster’s full anyway.”
