The Russian’s face lit up. “Ice cream.”
Mack pushed Noah toward an open chair and then sat down next to him.
Noah braced his elbows on his knees and lowered his face into his hands. “I can’t believe I was too late.”
“It’s okay, man.” Mack patted him on the back.
“It’s not okay. I should have been here. She was alone. I promised her she wouldn’t have to go through with any of this alone, and I couldn’t even keep that promise.”
“Noah?”
He lifted his head. The Vanderpools—minus Elliott—had just walked into the waiting room. Candi walked over, smiling much more brightly than anyone should at that early hour and certainly not before a family member goes into surgery.
“You are here,” she gushed. “I knew you’d be here. I told her you would.”
He shot to his feet. “You saw her?”
“Just before they took her back for pre-op.”
“How was she? Was she okay? Was she scared?”
“She was okay. But I know she’ll be better when she wakes up and sees you here.”
“I want her to see me now,” he groaned, running his hands over his mop of hair.
And then his own words brought him up short as a memory invaded. I want you to see me.
“What’s wrong?” Candi asked.
He shook his head and looked down at Mack. “I need to find a barber.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Someone was touching her.
That didn’t make sense, though, because Alexis was swimming. Floating in thick, dark, warm water that lapped over every limb and dulled her senses in the most soothing, soundless way.
But someone was there. Touching her hand and speaking softly.
Alexis heard a moan, and suddenly the water was gone. One eye peeled open, and then the other, and she found herself thrown from warm, dark silence into cold, stark brightness. She squinted and rolled her head.
A nurse with a wide smile and gray hair stood next to her bed doing something with an IV bag. Her name badge read NINA B. The woman looked down and smiled. “Hi, Alexis. I’m Nina, and I’m going to be taking care of you while you’re in recovery. How’s your pain?”
Alexis braced her palms against the mattress and attempted to shift higher on the pillows. A stitch in her side made her wince. Nina tut-tutted and told her to hold still. “Too soon for that, honey.” She pushed a button on the arm of Alexis’s bed to lift the upper half a few inches. “Better?”
Alexis nodded and tried to swallow. It hurt. Bad. “Is it . . .” She swallowed again. If anyone had told her a sore throat would be the worst part of donating an organ, she never would have believed it, but her throat was on fire. “Is it over?”
Nina smiled again. “It’s over. On a scale of one to ten, can you tell me how your pain is?”
Alexis tried to focus. Things hurt, but she was still too fuzzy to know where and what and how badly. “Six, seven. I don’t know.”
“We’re going to take care of that for you, okay?” Nina said.
“Elliott?” Her voice was a croak.
“He’s good. Everything went fine.”
She winced at a sharp pain in her gut.
“Okay, honey,” Nina said. “I’ve given you some more pain medication.”
“Noah . . . ,” Alexis whispered.
The warm, dark water washed over her again. But just before she went under, she heard Nina’s voice. “He’s here, and he loves you.”
* * *
The next time she woke up, she was in a private room and alone. Long shadows stretched along the wall and bathed her white blanket in an orange glow from the sinking sun.
The fire in her throat had eased only to be replaced by a painful cramp in her gut. Both paled, however, to the ache in her heart. He’s here, and he loves you. Nina’s message had been a dream. Her imagination. Wishful thinking.
Alexis let her eyes drift closed again, not from the pull of pain medications but the tug of regret.
They flew open again at the sound of a toilet flushing. Alexis turned her head to the right as the bathroom door opened. A man emerged, silhouetted in the bathroom light. Alexis squinted and tried but failed to sit up. Who the hell—
He stopped short. “Shit. I’m sorry. Did I—Did I wake you up?”
The heart monitor recorded the skip of her heartbeat. “Noah?”
He stepped out of the shadows, and Alexis gasped. It was Noah.
But not.
His beard was gone, revealing a youthful smile and baby soft skin. And his long hair was now short, cropped and styled tightly against his scalp. But his eyes were the same—warm and soft—as he stopped at the edge of her bed and gazed at her.
A tear rolled toward her temple. “Oh my God.”
His smile slipped. “That bad, huh?”
“No,” she choked. “You were right. It is too much male beauty.” A suppressed sob broke free, and she clutched her stomach against the assault of emotion on tender incisions.
“Shit.” Noah looked panicked. “Did I hurt you? Should I get the nurse?”
Alexis shot out her hand and grabbed his arm. “No. Don’t go anywhere. I’ll just think I’m dreaming.”
Noah bent over the arm of the bed and lowered his brow to rest on hers. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I just wanted you to see the real me when I groveled for forgiveness.”
A watery laugh escaped her sandpaper throat. It quickly became a cough, which caused another sharp pain in her stomach. Alexis winced. “Don’t make me laugh.”
“I wasn’t trying to.” Noah stood and reached for a disposable cup with a lid on the table next to her bed. He brought the straw to her lips. “Here. The nurse said you’d need it.”
She sucked down the cool drink with a sigh. “Thank you.” She blinked. “What happened to your cheek?”
“It’s a long story
