Page 67 of Thirsty Bodyguard Summer

“Yes.”

I swallowed.

“Do you need a medic?”

“I need ice after the route is secure.”

Rafi stepped closer. “The venue medic can check it now.”

Cassidy flexed her fingers and rotated her wrist. “Nothing’s broken. I have full movement.”

“I’d still like the medic to confirm that,” he said.

She nodded once. “Fine.”

I didn’t argue with her answer or try to pull her away from the work still moving around us. I followed as she crossed to the stage-access hold, where the medic met us with a small kit.

The medic examined her wrist and arm, then pressed gently along the bone. “Open and close your hand. Now rotate your wrist.” Cassidy followed each direction.

“Bruising and some swelling,” the woman said. “No sign of a fracture. Ice it when you can. Come find me if the pain increases or your grip changes.”

“I will.”

I waited until the medic stepped away.

“You heard her,” I said.

“I usually hear people when they’re speaking directly to me.”

“You’re icing it.”

Cassidy looked up. “You’ve learned a dangerous amount about giving instructions.”

“I’m making one request.”

“You phrased it like an order.”

“It comes from a place of deep concern and excellent cheekbones.”

One corner of her mouth lifted.

Rafi touched his earpiece. “Law enforcement has Melanie in the service office. Isabel confirms the public entrances are stable. The false announcement has been corrected, and the west-gate line is dispersing to the main doors.”

“How long until the route is cleared?” Cassidy asked.

“Ten minutes if the sweep remains clean.”

The distant crowd roared again. The lights were still down, and every minute of delay made the sound louder.

Tracy hurried into the hold from the artist-suite corridor. Her chestnut bob had lost its perfect shape for the first time since I’d arrived in Sunbreak Harbor.

She stopped in front of Cassidy. “Are you hurt?”

“Minor bruise.”

Tracy turned to me. “And you?”

“I followed instructions.”