Elijah POV
“They said the girl is going to be okay,” I said, bringing Ambrosia her coffee. The drive thru was no longer an option without a vehicle, so we sat inside, watching the tow trucks work as the cops diverted traffic. “And the barista was so impressed with our dashing heroism that the coffee and croissants are on the house.”
“Dashing heroism,” she scoffed. “Yeah, right.”
I put her coffee down in front of her and set my hand atop hers. “What is it?” I asked. “You don’t have to hide it from me.”
She shook her head, but it still seemed to me she was holding something back. “Nothing. Sorry. I’m just a little…” She touched the head wound that had already closed and sighed. “Shaken.”
“Me too,” I replied, softly. “I wish I’d punched that trucker into next Sunday, but…” I let a breath
