THIRTY-TWO
Iwake slowly, not knowing where I am or what’s happening. It’s bright, though, and warm. My head and face ache something fierce, and when I force my eyes open, I’m blinded. I blink away the intense lights and turn my head toward a typing noise. I’m sure I’m hallucinating.
That punch must have knocked me out for sure.
Wait . . . Punch.
Everything floods back as I look around. I’m in the hospital. I was really that badly injured? Shit, that’s embarrassing and not good for my record. I don’t even know what happened, but as I turn to what I believe is a vivid hallucination, I don’t mind.
Zia’s suit jacket is folded at his side, and his usually pressed shirt is wrinkled, which I know drives him insane. His sleeves are rolled back to expose his perfect, veiny forearms as he types on a computer, his hair slicked back as he focuses on the screen.
My arm is slow as I lift it, and I feel a pinch in my side, a hiss escaping my mouth at the sudden pain. Zia’s head jerks up, his eyes widening when they land on me, and within seconds, he’s up and at my side. “You’re awake,” he says softly, placing his hand over mine. “Where does it hurt?”
There’s a yelp, and we both turn to see my father. He must have been asleep at my side, but when Zia spoke, he fell off his chair. My dad pushes to his feet, gaping at me. “My boy!” He lurches forward, gripping my face. “Are you okay? Does it hurt? Let me get the doctor?—”
“I’m okay,” I promise as I glance between them. “What happened?”
“You were out cold, so we brought you here,” my dad answers, but my eyes are for Zia. There’s worry in his gaze, and when he lifts my hand and kisses the back of it, I swear I want to cry.
If this is the prize I get for being in here, then I’ll take it.
I’ll let anybody knock me out if it means he’ll be at my side.
“You were sedated due to swelling on your brain,” Zia explains, his voice tight. “You have a dislocated shoulder and some fractures, but you’ll be okay.”
My dad scoffs. “Zia made sure you had the best doctors. Hell, the head of the hospital came by last night. Everybody’s been waiting on you hand and foot.” He nudges my side, and I glance at him. “Good job getting a rich boyfriend.”
I expect Zia to protest, but he simply smiles and starts fluffing my pillows as they both help me sit up. “Are you in pain?” he asks.
“No,” I answer. I can’t feel anything other than happiness right now. “You came.”
He stops, bowing his head for a moment before he blows out a breath and leans back. I tighten my grip on his hand so he doesn’t leave. “You were hurt,” he counters. “I was watching the match—” I wince, but he carries on. “I had to make sure you were okay.”
“Why?” I ask. “You left?—”
“Nikko, you knew our deal. Now is not the time.” He sighs.
“Fuck our deal! It is time because if we don’t talk about it now, you’ll leave again. Why did you come? Why would it matter if I was hurt if I mean nothing to you? You walked away like I’m nothing and cut me from your life.” My voice is thick with emotion as tears gather in my eyes. “That hurt worse than any punch, any defeat.”
“You know why,” he protests, looking unsure.
“Bullshit. You didn’t give me a choice. You decided for me. Don’t say it was to protect me. You made that decision to protect yourself because you were scared of where we were headed,” I snap, and he flinches. “How could you walk away from me?”
He spares my dad a look before pursing his lips. “We agreed to be fuck buddies, Nikko?—”
“Don’t give me that shit. You know we were more. A fuck buddy wouldn’t be here right now. You care. Admit it. You fucking care, and you left me. You left me—” I lick my teeth, swallowing the pain. “I missed you so much.”
He stares at me, but the door opens before he can respond. “Sir, sorry.” Yuki bows and looks at me. “Good to see you are awake, Nikko. You need to see this.”
He steps inside and turns on the TV, increasing the volume. My eyes linger on Zia before my attention is dragged to the screen. Joe Fitz is there, his face a bandaged mess, like he’s been brutally beaten. His manager stands at his side, and both look terrified and resigned.
Is this a press conference for his win?
Confusion swirls around my brain, but I hold Zia’s hand tighter so he can’t slip away. I’m not done. I need him to see we are better together. I need him to admit it.
He came for me.
It means we have a chance.
