Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 139088 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 695(@200wpm)___ 556(@250wpm)___ 464(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 139088 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 695(@200wpm)___ 556(@250wpm)___ 464(@300wpm)
“He’s not awake,” I pointed out the obvious. “We were told he was out of the anesthesia.”
“He’s pretty drugged up,” she replied, moving from the monitors to the IV to check that. “He woke from anesthesia, but still, he’ll fade in and out for a while.”
“So he’s okay?” I asked.
She focused on me and gave me a small, professional smile. “He’ll be fine. But he lost a lot of blood and had surgery, both are traumatic. He needs to rest.”
I nodded.
“But even resting, company is good,” she encouraged.
I nodded again.
She moved to the laptop she’d rolled in, hit some keys, sent me another professional smile, and she and her laptop rolled back out.
I looked down at Knox.
God, he was gorgeous.
That square jaw. Strong brow. Exquisite chest hair over equally exquisite pecs and down his defined abs.
Those wide shoulders (even with one covered in bandages).
“Trust you to be hot post-double-GSW surgery,” I mumbled.
Nothing from Knox.
But even though I wanted to be there and didn’t want to be anywhere else, not until he woke up, not until he was dressed and walking out the door of that room for good, even with that, I was acutely aware there were a bevy of people in the waiting room who needed to see what I was seeing right now.
So, okay, perhaps in a drug-induced state he’d ask for me.
Once he was no longer in that state, he wouldn’t want me around.
That was something (agonizingly) I knew for certain.
Even so, I had this shot.
This one shot.
Maybe the only one I’d ever get again.
And perhaps it was messed up.
But screw it.
I was going to take it.
I bent over his handsome face, my eyes to his beautiful lips surrounded by sexy dark stubble.
I didn’t press. I didn’t take much.
I just brushed my lips against his.
I remembered them being soft like that.
Soft, but not gentle.
The man was a greedy kisser.
On this altogether too painful thought, I lifted away, and my breath stuck in my throat because his hazel eyes were open and on me.
“Luna,” he said, and damn.
He might look all right, but his deep voice was fragile, and hearing that, it instantly gutted me.
I was about to say hey, when he spoke on.
“The love of my life.”
My body turned to stone in shock.
And hope.
Hope.
I hadn’t felt hope about Knox in over a year.
His hand I was holding tensed around my fingers, but then it relaxed, his eyes going hazy.
“Didn’t love me enough,” he muttered.
My throat started burning.
Hang right the eff on.
“Let me go,” he kept at it.
My mind immediately reengaged, taking over from my heart.
And we could just say, when it did, my mind was pissed.
“Let me go,” he mumbled a repeat, his eyes closed. “Walked away,” he whispered and his head fell a little to the side, so I knew he was back to sleep.
“I didn’t let you go, asshole,” I whispered. “You scraped me off.”
And he fucking well did.
Right.
Assess.
Knox was okay. He was going to be fine. He was in excellent shape. He’d breeze through PT. He’d be fighting fit before anyone could blink.
And I was angry because him spouting that bullshit, drugged or not, brought back the hurt. Or not exactly brought it back, because it was always there seeing as we shared the same friend posse, so it wasn’t like I could get away from him and heal. But that hurt resurfaced full force and again shredded me.
Thus, I could not stay there, hearing his words bumping into each other in my head, witnessing his magnificence, all that was him never to be mine…
The love of my life.
Let me go.
How had he twisted that up in his head?
Seriously, I wanted to know.
I was not going to ask, not now, when he couldn’t answer.
Not ever.
I had to get out of there.
So I did.
Right, actually, I didn’t.
He might be a big jerk, but he was Knox. If not mine in reality, mine in my heart.
So before I took off, I said, “I’m glad you’re okay. And I’m glad, with what happened, now the Nightingale boys are gonna lose their shit and deal with your sister and her idiot boyfriend, because that crap has to end.”
He just lay there.
Lay there with his chest bare.
Was he cold?
I carefully unfolded the blanket and tugged it up so it covered his pecs.
Now it was time to go.
Of course (ugh!), I didn’t.
I said, “And you better do what the doctor orders. No gonzo bullshit. Tearing your stitches or whatever. You don’t know better than people with years of education and more years of experience. So stick with the program. No heroics.”
He again didn’t so much as twitch.
Okay, now it was time to go.
I released his hand and headed to the door.
At it, I stopped, though, and turned back to him again, mostly because when it came to that guy, I was a total idiot.