Easton dropped back down into his seat. “Aren’t you worried about her too?”

“Nope.” Graham scooped up another handful of ice chips, crunching them so loudly, Easton couldn’t believe his teeth didn’t hurt. “Zoey has something neither of us are equipped with: perspective. She’ll know if we’re needed.”

“Where did you get those anyway?” Easton grumped.

“Some nice nurse got them for me. Duncan, I think his name was?”

The door opened, a nose and a pair of glasses popping inside the crack. “She got through the interview fine,” Zoey promised, slipping in the door and closing it behind her. “But there’s still paparazzi out there, so she said to tell you to hide out for a while longer. They’ll clear out soon enough.”

Graham hooked an arm around Zoey’s waist, pulling her giggling into the bed with him. The pair were officially the last thing Easton could handle. He pushed to his feet.

“I’m not staying in here anymore.”

“Okeydokey. Have fun, buddy.”

Easton could still hear Graham chuckling as he left the room, whispering to Zoey. “Five bucks he hits someone.”

“Graham, that’s not funny.”

“It’s a little funny…”

“Tell Duncan not to give Graham anything else,” Easton said as he went past the nurses’ station. “He’s a pain in the ass.”

Muscles strung tight with strangers-induced tension, Easton strode down the hallway. Sure enough, there were stragglers in the hallway outside her room, trying and failing to look innocent as they lingered. When the closest cameraman noticed him, his face brightened with renewed zeal.

“Easton,” he said, sticking a camera in his face. “What can you tell us about—”

Easton didn’t give the guy a chance to finish the question. One hand on the camera, he pushed it down, staring at the cameraman.

He didn’t say anything. He didn’t do anything. He just stared.

With a cleared throat, the cameraman stepped aside, giving Easton access to River’s room. “Sorry, man.”

Easton closed her door behind him, then pulled the privacy blinds. He grabbed the room’s recliner and dragged it in front of the door, wedging it beneath the handle.

“Wow. I thought you were going to eat that guy.”

Easton didn’t reply to her teasing tone.

“Come here.” When he didn’t move, she flapped her hands at him. “Come on. Sit over here with me.”

“You look pretty,” he muttered, dropping down to sit on the edge of her bed.

“That almost sounded like a compliment. It’s hard to tell, though, because your beard is glaring at me.”

“Don’t let it get to your head. I’m still mad you let all of them in here and kicked me out.”

“Then I suppose I’ll have to make it up to you.”