Page 17 of All of Him
“I was in an accident last year,” he admitted, clearing his voice before continuing. “The windows were open, and when the car flipped, my arm got trapped underneath. There’s a rod in my humerus, and a lot of my shoulder was rebuilt.”
Dad and I glanced at each other. It was clear he thought I’d known about that, but I hadn’t. Every time the accident came up, I learned a little more, and it just became more heartbreaking with each detail.
“You don’t have to share what you don’t want to,” Dad clarified. “I just want to make sure no one gets hurt. I don’t need you saying you can lift something and dropping it on my daughter, you know?”
He chuckled, and Noah managed to smile.
“I get it, sir,” he responded, subconsciously rubbing his arm where the scar was.
“None of thatsirbullshit,” Dad corrected. “It’s Tony. Always Tony. Now, let’s go get that paint.”
10
Noah
I’D THOUGHT I KEPTmy scars well hidden, but Tony didn’t miss a beat. The last thing I wanted to do was share any details of the accident, especially with Amanda. I had a feeling she’d pry, which wasn’t fair to assume, but I wanted to avoid it at all costs.
Everything had seemed fine between Amanda and me at the house on Saturday, but I chalked it up to being excited about finally working on the place. Tony had called me out pretty quickly about the fireplace, but it had been a relief to hear that I could get that paint off. Hopefully, Amanda would keep the fact that it had been my mistake to herself.
I was completely left alone at work, save for Penny and Claude, but only rarely did they bother me. Amanda kept to herself, but I could tell she was stressed about something. I tried not to smile throughout the week as she cursed at her computer more and more. I wasn’t sure if it was her upcoming promotion or the computer itself, but it was hard not to ask.
Thursday afternoon, I was walking to the parking garage, taking in the increasingly cooler temperatures, when something caught my eye. As little as I knew about Amanda, I didn’t think she was the type to drink alone, but there she was.
In the bar across from work, she was sitting by herself and staring down at her phone. An empty glass sat in front of her with another half-filled one next to it. I sighed and tried to speed up, but her eyes met mine. Her face read disappointment—a stark contrast to her usual chipper demeanor. I stopped, not sure what to do. We weren’t friends—I’d made that very clear. But her dad was helping mea lot, and I felt like I should at least make sure she was okay. Tilting my head back in defeat, I turned to walk into the bar.
“I didn’t peg you as the type to drink alone on a Thursday afternoon,” I said quietly, pulling the stool out next to her.
I faced her but tried to keep my distance. The girl was a loose cannon, and it smelled like she was drinking whiskey.
“Well,” she started, laughing sarcastically, “I didn’t either, but then mydatestood me up. And you know who my ride home was? That dickwad. And my sister and her fiancée are both working, so I’m trapped here. Drinking alone. And pathetic. And now,youfound me. So, my day just keeps getting—”
“I owe you a ride,” I cut her off, feeling bad and not really wanting to listen to her monologue anymore. Something about a guy standing her up irritated me.
“You won’t even let me have your number,” she shot back, poking my chest.
I sighed and shook my head. Amanda Bette was going to be the death of me. I should have left. I should have shrugged and walked to my car and left her there, but it wasn’t in me. I wasn’t that type of guy.
“I still owe you a ride. And I don’t think you actually deleted my number,” I argued, making sure she didn’t catch on that I was trying to be nice.
Amanda pulled up something on her phone, then slid it to me. I watched her down her drink, then looked at her screen. It was her Contacts list, open to the m’s. Murphy was not there.
“Happy?”
I shook my head.
“Are you okay?” I asked sincerely, wanting so badly for her to say she could just take a cab home.
Why wasn’tshe just doing that anyway?
Amanda flung her hand awkwardly into the air.
“I said yes to drinks with Brayden McCulley, so obviously fuckingnot.”Shit. I tried to hide my disdain for the guy, but she didn’t miss it.
“Wow.” She laughed, covering her mouth. “I caught that expression. Does itbotheryou that I accepted his offer?”
“I just think you’re better than him,” I admitted sharply. “And the fact that he stood you up confirms that.”
Amanda’s face fell uncharacteristically, and she rested her head on her propped-up hand. I felt like I was about to get interrogated again, but I was still dead set on making sure she got home okay.
