“Okay, got it. Do I really need all these fuckin’ sticky things on me now?” I look down at my chest, covered in round stickers with wires coming from them.
“No, I can safely remove them,” she confirms, walking over to me. “Okay, fast or slow?” she asks with a smirk, and I groan.
“Just rip ’em off,” I reply and bite my bottom lip, preparing for the inevitable. Shannon laughs at my groaning andcomplaining as she continues to take them off, then puts my drip on a stand and helps me over to Dee.
“Thanks,” I call out as she goes to leave me alone with my girl.
“You’re welcome! Keep that drip in because you need more fluid in you,” she announces as she walks out of the room.
Sitting in the chair beside Dee’s bed, she moans so slightly I barely hear her. Her eyes open slowly as I bring my hand up to touch her face. I brace myself for another psychotic moment, but she smiles at me. I smile back and lean down, kissing her cheek.
“Your nose. What happened?” Dee asks as she runs her hand along my face.
“I got into a little misunderstanding with your father.”
Her eyes open wide as she tries to sit up. But then grabs her stomach and whimpers.
“Easy, baby, try not to move too much,” I advise, and she looks at me, then down to the drip in her hand.
“Where am I?” Her eyes dart around the room as she tries to take in everything around her.
“In a hospital in New Jersey. You were hit…” I trail off, struggling to say the words.
“Hit by what?” She looks a little panicked.
I caress her cheek. “By a van. But you’re doing so well and healing perfectly,” I lie to her. Well, technically, it’s not a lie because she is healing, but she’s having these psychotic events, which I sure as hell am not going to mention while she seems somewhat lucid.
“Were you hit too?” Dee’s fingers run over the drip in my hand.
I shake my head. “No, I wasn’t looking after myself when you came in here, and I got a bit dehydrated and tired, that’s all. Don’t worry about me.”
“When did I come in? How long have I been here?” she asks, the tone in her voice scared.
“That doesn’t matter. All that matters is that you’re getting better and the staff here are looking after you. Your parents are here. So is my mum. She thinks you’re beautiful—”
“Wait, if we’re in New Jersey and my parents are here, then I must’ve been here for at least two days, right?”
I don’t know what to do.
Do I tell her the truth, or do I let her think that it’s only been a couple of days? I don’t want to lie to her, but I also don’t want her to upset her over something she won’t remember anyway.
“Yeah, baby, that’s right,” I say, and she exhales and nods as a tear runs down her face.
“Why does my stomach hurt so much?” she asks.
I close my eyes for a second and exhale. “The car… well, it was more of a van that hit you. I mean it was a worker’s truck, and it had metal tubing and shit on the roof, and when it hit you, the tubing fell from it and into your stomach. But it’s okay, the doctors say you’re going to heal completely fine,” I explain with another lie.
I have no idea what’s happening with her stomach.
I really should ask them to fill me in on what’s going on.
“Colt?” she whispers, her voice barely audible.
I lean in, our faces inches apart, and meet her gaze. “Yeah?”
Her eyes, dark with desire, lock onto mine. “Kiss me,” she murmurs, her breath warm against my lips.
A slow smile spreads across my face as I close the distance. Our lips meet, soft and searching at first, then deepening as the world around us fades away. Her fingers weave into my hair, pulling me closer, and a soft moan escapes her lips.
