116. Nate

ONE HUNDRED SIXTEEN

NATE

I turn to look at the stall wall separating myself and the man who just ripped the loudest ass I've ever heard. "Dude, are you alright?"

"Sorry," someone with a deep voice grumbles.

I look back at the phone. "That wasn't me."

The dismay I feel over the man on the next toilet over fades when I hear Rosie's laugh.

"Where are you?" She's smiling at me over Charles, and I feel the brightness of her features in my soul.

I must have shifted too much because the toilet I'm sitting on starts to flush, the automatic sensors having been triggered.

I jump up with a curse, not wanting toilet water on the ass of my pants. "I was just trying to find somewhere private to talk," I explain.

Using my foot, I kick the four layers of toilet paper I lined the seat with into the bowl.

"Were you…?" Rosie holds Charles higher to cover her mouth.

I hold the phone out and tip it down, showing my body and the fact that my pants are on and secured. "I was just sitting."

"If you say so."

I open the stall door and stride out. "Hand to Charles." I stop at the sink. "But still, let me wash my hands. One second. "

I slide the phone into my pocket and quickly soap up my hands.

Someone I recognize but couldn't name walks in.

"Hey, Nate." He greets me.

And my pocket meows back.

He tilts his head as he walks past me.

Charles always has the worst timing.

Hands dry, I exit the bathroom and pull my phone back out of my pocket.

Rosie has her hand over Charles's face. "Could you hear that?"

"Oh, the whole bathroom heard that," I deadpan.

She snickers. "Bad kitty."

A guy lifts his hand my way as he walks by. "Waller, how's it going?"

I dip my chin at him.

When I look back at the phone, Rosie's smile is gone. "I'm sorry. This is why I didn't call you. I didn't want to interrupt your work stuff."

"No more apologizing. And you're not interrupting anything. There just isn't any privacy, and I didn't want to walk the freaking half mile across the convention center back to my room." I turn a corner, then lean my shoulder against the wall. "I need you to promise me a few things before I go."

Rosie nods. "Anything."

Her instant acceptance calms me even further. "I need you to drive straight home. I need you to walk so very carefully to the elevators. Then I need you to be just as careful walking into the condo."

"I promise."

"After you get your crutches, I need you to get an ice pack out of the freezer, pour a water, and grab the painkillers from the bathroom." I pause, and when she doesn't say anything, I prompt her. "Say you promise."

"I promise."

She looks like she's fighting a smile.

Good.

"Then." I hold a finger up so she can see it. "You're going to go lie in our bed." Her gaze flickers when I say our , and I feel a sense of satisfaction when she doesn't argue. "You're going to elevate and ice your ankle. And you're going to elevate it for the rest of today. Icing three more times."

This time, when I pause, she answers. "I promise."

"And you're going to do that again tomorrow. I'm serious, Rosie. I'm going to randomly FaceTime you every day that I'm gone, and if you're doing more than moving from the bed to the couch, I'm going to get upset."