Chapter 2

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Ella

Unlocking my phone, I realize I have several missed calls from my brother and my parents. Not even bothering to listen to the voicemails, I tap Declan's name to return his call. "Are you okay?" he asks franticly the moment he connects the call.

"I'm fine!" I insist.

"Then, where the hell have you been?" he demands.

Knowing he will find out about the accident anyway, I sigh and admit, "I saw a motorcycle accident and I stopped to help him."

"In this weather?" he responds. "You should've called me! I would've left work to come help you, Gabriella!"

I grimace, annoyed by his use of my full name. "I know, but I was on the phone with 911 the whole time," I emphasize.

He groans in frustration before I hear him take a deep breath. "I get it, but are you sure you're okay?" he probes.

"Yes, I'm fine, Dec! I wasn't the one in an accident," I respond sarcastically. "And I'm safely inside your house so you can stop," I mutter.

"Ella," he mumbles my name on a defeated sigh. "I'm sorry, but you know we worry about you and it sounds like we had reason to be worried. We can't help it."

"Yeah, I know, but I'm fine," I reiterate. "I'm just a little cold and wet. I'm going to use your tub and take a hot bath to relax and warm up," I inform him.

"Okay," he concedes sounding resigned. "Do you need me to come home?" he offers.

"No! There's no reason for you to be here except to annoy me," I claim.

Chuckling softly he concurs, lightening the mood, "Yeah, but that's so much fun."

I scoff, "Yeah, yeah." Shaking my head I request, "Will you call mom and dad for me? I don't want to deal with them right now."

"Sure, no problem," he agrees. "Call me if you need anything."

"I will. See you after work," I mumble.

"Bye," he replies, disconnecting the call.

Sighing, I make my way upstairs in his southern Victorian home. Walking down the hallway, I open the last door on the left and drop my bag inside the room, before I flip the light on. Stepping inside the room, I look around, noticing everything is just as I left it. Declan painted the room a lemonade yellow, one of my favorite colors. He claims he did it to brighten the room, but the room has two large picture windows, one on the wall across from my door and one to my right; it would be bright even if he decided to paint it black. On my left up against the wall sits a queen size bed with a white quilt adorned with sunflowers along the bottom. A long white dresser sits on the wall on the other side of the bed, with a matching tall armoire between the two windows and matching nightstands on both sides of the bed. I appreciate everything he does for me, but I don't need anyone to take care of me. I can take care of myself.

Sighing, I wander across the hall and into the bathroom. I flip on the light, glancing at the white and gray granite countertop, finding nothing on top except for my orange toothbrush. A chill runs through me and I pull the door shut behind me. I spin towards the large claw-foot bathtub reaching for the faucet and turning on the hot water. A relaxing bath is exactly what I need right now to help me warm-up and calm my anxiety after seeing that motorcycle skidding across the pavement dragging his body.

Kicking my shoes off, I peel out of my wet clothes, dropping them on the white tiles. I step over to the cabinet, knowing I'll find my lavender bubble bath on the bottom. After adding some to the tub, I put it away, catching a glimpse of my drowned reflection in the mirror. "I'm a mess," I mumble to myself." Seeing my reflection, I can't help but laugh at the stranger's words, calling me beautiful. He must've had a pretty bad head injury. I hope he's okay.

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