Was he really going to be that guy? The one who bailed when things got hard? Why not? Thanks to his father, Oliver had been running from meaningful relationships all his life. From his earliest childhood, rejection was the kiss of death. Every time he’d tried to connect with his father and been dismissed, Oliver had withdrawn behind sneers and acted out to demonstrate his contempt. Yet isolating himself brought no happiness.
Oliver glanced toward Sammi and realized her eyes were opened and fixed on his face. Lightning shot through him at the mixture of joy and relief he glimpsed in the depths of her dark brown eyes. She glanced away, but that didn’t stop his heart from pounding.
Maybe it was time for a change.
“You’re still here,” she murmured, glancing at the clock on the wall. “I’ve been here all night?”
“The doctor wanted to keep you under observation. You can leave as soon as you feel able.”
“I’d really like to go as soon as possible.”
“I have a car standing by to take you home.”
“You really don’t—”
“Need to help,” he interrupted, nodding. “So you’ve said, but I feel responsible for you.”
An hour later, the doctor checked her over and she was discharged. Ignoring her continued protests, Oliver wheeled her through the hospital and the glass doors at the entrance to where a black town car sat waiting at the curb.
“Where to?” the driver asked after he’d settled behind the wheel.
Oliver peered at Sammi’s profile and marveled at the way his perspective had been transformed. Twenty-four hours earlier, he’d been a self-absorbed bachelor obsessing about the past and the drama surrounding his family. He never imagined that reconnecting with Sammi would present him with a whole new set of challenges or that he’d be looking forward to what the future had in store.
“I think he wants to know your address,” Oliver prompted.
Sammi gripped her backpack tightly and stared ahead for several long seconds as if grappling with exposing her private information to him. Oliver waited her out with barely restrained impatience, pondering all he learned about her today and anticipating how much more waited to be discovered. At long last, she gave an elaborate sigh and offered up her address.
When the car stopped at the curb in front of her apartment building, Oliver saw Sammi set her hand on the door handle and caught her arm to forestall her. She shot him a confused look while the driver came around to open her door.
“I’m going to escort you all the way to your door,” he explained.
“You don’t need to,” she said. “I’ll be fine.”
Oliver shook his head. “Maybe eventually, but not at the moment.”
She opened her mouth as if to argue, but no protest emerged. Oliver noted her stiff posture and wondered if it was because of her bruises or her unhappiness with his insistence on aiding her. A moment later he got his answer as she slid away from him toward the open door, wincing as she pivoted on the seat and set one foot onto the sidewalk.
Although she displayed a great deal of fortitude during the walk toward the building, she wavered once they entered the lobby. Oliver offered her his arm, and she sighed as she took it. They made their way toward the elevator in silence. When the doors opened, she tried to wave him off, but Oliver shook his head. He’d promised to deliver her safely to her apartment, and that’s what he was going to do. They rode in silence to the tenth floor while he kept a close watch on her pale features and she acted as if he didn’t exist. Once they arrived at her floor, she refused his help and made her way down the hall toward her apartment.
“Thank you,” she said, unlocking the door and opening it just wide enough for her slim body to slide through. Once she was inside, she turned to face him. “I’m home.”
Seeing that she intended to leave him stranded in the hall, Oliver set his hand on the door above her head and regarded her with raised eyebrows. “The doctor said someone should stay with you for the next forty-eight hours. So, I’m not going anywhere until I know you’re going to be completely okay.”
“I’m going to be fine,” she promised, looking vexed that she lacked the strength to shut the door in his face. “You don’t need to stay.”
He leaned forward and snagged her gaze. “Oh, but I do.”
“Seriously, I’m fine.”
She held firm for several seconds until a strident female voice came at them like an attacking cat from deeper in the apartment.
“Well, it’s about time you got home. Where the hell have you been?”
Sammi’s eyes widened in alarm as she glanced back over her shoulder. An older, shorter version of Sammi had appeared. The woman was borderline gaunt in a sleeveless zebra turtleneck paired with black trousers and ankle boots. She was dressed like a trendy twentysomething despite being in her midforties. Oliver guessed this was Sammi’s mother.
“You missed the Potts shoot yesterday afternoon,” the woman continued with unrelenting censure. “And your agency is screaming mad.”
Even though it was barely noon, the woman held a crystal tumbler and looked decidedly unsteady as she marched toward them. Sammi rested her shoulder against the door, visibly shrinking from the incensed woman. Oliver set his palm on her lower back to steady her and felt the shudder that passed through Sammi’s slender frame as the woman drew near.
“If you keep behaving like this, they’ll fire you, and then where will we be?” Catching sight of Oliver, she narrowed her eyes and gave him a skeptical once-over. Taking in his worn leather jacket, T-shirt and jeans, she sneered. “Who the hell is this?”
“I’m Oliver,”
