Penelope spent the next four innings staring at her phone as she waited for a response that never came.

“Maybe I should just go to the hospital,” she said, for the tenth time.

“But which one?” Jake asked.

“All of them.”

“It’s New York City, hon. There’s not just the one hospital off Main Street.”

Penelope huffed out a breath. Jake was right. She’d already researched the various places where they could have taken Bobby, and there were a lot.

And she could call, but she was pretty sure they’d only release patient info to family members. What was she supposed to say? Hi, the brother of my nonboyfriend whom I only sleep with on weekends was in an accident.

“Come on, Cole,” Penelope muttered, staring down at her phone and willing it to give her a response.

“I can’t just sit here,” she said, leaning forward and curling into herself. She couldn’t remember the last time she felt so miserable or helpless.

Grace rubbed her back. “Do you want to head back into the city? That way, if he does get back to you, you’ll be closer and can go to him.”

It was true. Bobby lived in Manhattan, so chances were, whatever happened to him had happened there. The closer she got to Manhattan, the closer she’d be to Bobby.

And to Cole.

“Yeah,” she said, “but you two stay here.”

“Hell no. We’re going with you,” Jake said. Grace nodded in agreement.

Penelope opened her mouth, but Jake cut her off. “We won’t go into the hospital, once you figure out where he is. We don’t belong there. But we’ll be there every step of the way up until then, ’kay?”

“Are you sure?”

“He’s our friend too,” Jake said quietly.

“Penelope.” Grace put a hand on her arm, her expression concerned. “This isn’t some little fling, is it? It’s more than you trying to move on from that Evan guy?”

Penelope couldn’t stop the little laugh that bubbled up.

Evan. She hadn’t thought about him since they’d ditched him at the restaurant on Friday night.

That anyone could think that Cole and Evan belonged in the same sentence, or even in the same thought…

Penelope might have loved Evan once. She might have. The kind of love that became sort of desperate because of its unrequited nature, thus making you feel that it was the biggest love you’d ever known.

But now…

In hindsight, Penelope recognized it for what it was—a shallow love that, while genuine, had never had the chance to grow roots.

For the longest time, she’d thought that Evan hadn’t seen her because she wasn’t a certain type. Because she wasn’t pretty enough or flashy enough.

But in the end, Evan Barstow was a useless jerk, and Cole was…

“It’s more than a fling,” Penelope said quietly.

Grace and Jake stood in unison, perfect soulmates that they were. “What are we waiting for? Up, Pen! Let’s go!”

The subway ride back to the city was the longest journey of Penelope’s life, but she was rewarded when they emerged from the tunnel in Manhattan and she had a text from Cole.

“Bellevue,” she said, already dashing to the curb to hail a cab. “He’s at Bellevue Hospital.”

A cab pulled up beside her, and Penelope reached for the door handle even before it came to a complete stop.

Then she whirled around, gave Grace and Jake fierce hugs. “Promise you’ll go someplace ridiculously fancy for dinner and let me pay you back for it later?”

They both ignored this. “Let us know as soon as you know what’s going on,” Grace said.

“I promise,” Penelope said, climbing into the cab. She blew them both a distracted kiss and then reread Cole’s text once more.

On one hand, he’d replied. Good sign. On the other hand…

They took him to Bellevue Hospital. He got hit by a cab while crossing the street. He’s fine, but they’re keeping him overnight. Don’t come, we’re fine.

Don’t come, he’d said.

Penelope tried not to read too much into it. He was probably just being a good guy—not wanting to take her away from the baseball game.

Don’t come.

There was something so final—so harsh about those two words. One sentence.

Don’t come.

“Too damn bad, Cole,” she muttered. “I’m coming anyway.”

Penelope tossed a twenty at the cabdriver, not bothering to wait for change, and sprinted into the hospital.

She started toward the reception desk then skidded to a halt and took several steps backward when she saw the gift shop out of the corner of her eye.

A couple emerged carrying flowers, but Bobby wouldn’t want flowers. Her eyes drifted to a display of balloons. Bobby would love balloons.

Ten minutes later, Penelope made her way to the reception desk with an enormous bouquet of orange, blue, and white balloons.

Penelope was in luck. She’d come during visiting hours.

Penelope followed the nurse’s directions to Bobby’s room, ignoring the annoyed looks she got when her balloons took up the entire elevator.

Her heart pounded harder as she approached Bobby’s room. Please let him be okay. Please let him be perfectly okay….

She got as far as the open doorway and froze, unsure of her best move.

Surprise!

It’s me!

I know you said don’t come, but I love you, so really, it wasn’t a choice…

In the end, it was Bobby who decided for her. He turned his head, and his face broke into a smile that felt like it lifted her heart right out of her chest.

“Penelope!”

Cole’s head whipped around.

He was seated in a chair next to Bobby’s bed, and even as she pasted on a smile for Bobby’s sake, inwardly she lurched at the look on Cole’s face.

He looked like he’d aged five years in two hours.

“Are those for me?” Bobby asked in a delighted voice, apparently unaware of his brother’s distress.

“Um, of course they are,” she said, coming toward the bed.

“Mets colors!”

“What else would I bring?” she said in a scoffing voice.

There was a tiny table and chair against the wall. “How about I tie these here?” she asked, looping the ends of the balloon strings through the rung on the back of the chair.

“Okay!”

“Who’s the bear from?” she asked, nodding at the enormous stuffed bear on the table.

“My friends at the Big House. They can’t come see me yet, but Cole said they wanted me to have the bear.”

Penelope risked a glance at Cole. He was standing now, hands shoved into his back pockets as he stared at Bobby with a bleak expression on his face.

Penelope’s smile never wavered, but her eyes skimmed over Bobby. His foot was in one of those sling things, a cast running all the way up to his upper thigh, but it was the only obvious sign that he’d been hurt.

“What happened?” she asked, coming to stand beside him.

Bobby sighed. “Cole’s mad.”

Cole ran a hand through his hair. “I’m not mad, it’s just—”

“I’m not supposed to leave the house by myself,” Bobby explained with a voice resembling a weary teenager’s. “But Penelope, I had to.”

She reached out and rubbed his arm. “What for?”

His eyes were wide and earnest. “For Carly. I wanted to get her flowers. Yellow ones, ’cuz they’re her favorites.”

Penelope swallowed. The sweetness was killing her.

“I didn’t know the taxi wouldn’t stop,” Bobby said glumly.

“You should have waited for me, Bobby,” Cole said.

“I know. You’ve told me a hundred times.”

“Then why—”

“I wasn’t going to see you till Wednesday,” Bobby said. “I needed the flowers for Carly today.”

Oh, Bobby, no.

Penelope closed her eyes.

She knew Bobby didn’t mean any harm. He was just stating facts without a single thought to laying blame.

But instinctively, Penelope knew it was the worst possible thing he could have said.

A glance at Cole confirmed it. He looked destroyed.