‘You don’t think she feels the same?’
I hated the way the next words tasted in my mouth, regardless of how true they might be. ‘I don’t think it’s what she wants.’
‘Give her a chance to surprise you, son. The girl I met doesn’t seem like the predictable type.’
I huffed out a laugh. ‘You can say that again.’
‘So…’ He jutted his head to the door. ‘Let her surprise you.’
Fear still wound its way around my throat.She came. She showed up.That had to mean something, right? Even if she didn’t know what it was she was feeling,Iknew. And whether or not that girl wanted to admit it, she loved me. If I had to wait years before she felt safe enough to tell me how she really felt, I’d be right there, ready for when it does.
That realisation came crashing over me like a ton of bricks. I surged to my feet. ‘Be right back.’
‘No rush,’ Dad called out. The sound of his laughter followed behind me.
38
My eyes were gluedto the double doors. Each time they opened, my heart nearly lept out of my throat. Not long ago, Oliver had sauntered back through and pulled Fallon to her feet, and the two went off in search of some food and a newspaper.
They asked if I wanted to join them, but my stomach was flipping too much to even consider food, so I declined. Checking the time on my phone told me it was nearly one in the morning. I’d stay here all night if I had to. I couldn’t leave and go home without telling him. The feeling in my chest, thelove,had only got stronger since I’d arrived. As if my heart was finally beating in a regular rhythm. The butterflies in my stomach cheering, congratulating me on finally realising what they’d figured out a long time ago.
Picking up George’s habit, my knee danced wildly as I waited. When I wasn’t sure I could stand to sit in silence a moment longer, the door flew open. A flannel shirt and faded jeans came into view. George’s eyes landed on mine and he strode forward. His face set in hard lines. Before hecould get a word out, I shot to my feet and grabbed his hand, tugging him down the hallway.
‘Rosie—’ he started, but I shook my head.
I couldn’t wait. Every second that passed, that this man didn’t know how much I loved him, felt like a crime. But I also saw the nervous energy twitching his fingers, and the flashes of heat darken those sea blue eyes.
‘What are you doing?’ he asked when we passed several doors filled with patients.
Good question.
One that I didn’t have an answer to because, honestly, I was making this up as I went along. We came to a stop at a dead end. George arched his brow as he saw me looking desperately around. My eyes landed on a blue door labeledstorage.
‘It’ll do,’ I stated. You literally couldn’t get more cliché. However, I was desperate.
‘Sweetheart, this isn’t Grey’s Anatomy.’ His shoulders shook in a muted laugh as I bustled him into the storage room that smelled strongly of lemon disinfectant.
I flicked on the light, illuminating the shelves ladened with medical supplies. Hopefully, no one would need anything in the next few minutes. The door shut with a soft click behind us. George looked down at me, his gaze holding that same hint of awe as when I first walked into the hospital.
Like he couldn’t believe I’d come.
Seeing his face made my palms sweat. My hand reached out to turn off the light, covering us both in darkness.
‘Uh—’
‘I can’t do this if you’re staring at me,’ I blurted, shaking out the nervous energy in my limbs.
‘Sweetheart.’ His voice was low, laced with sadness. I wanted to ask him why when his hands darted out, landed onmy waist and yanked me towards him. My body tumbled into his. ‘Don’t do this now.’ He slanted his lips over mine, stealing what little air I had left in my lungs. And like it always did when he kissed me, my world slowed to a crawl. My body came alive.
Quickly, our kiss turned frantic. His hands were running up and down my body. Grip punishing, likely leaving bruises on my pale skin. Each rough clutch had me arching into his hold. His tongue tangled with mine, tasting each and every moan he drew from my throat. Three days. Three fucking days and I was losing my mind with how much I missed him. Missed the way my body molded perfectly with his, the way he knew exactly where to touch me, to light up that fire in my belly and have me inching towards that elusive edge of pleasure.
His lips trailed down my neck as his hands went to the waistband of my jeans. Slowly, he unzipped them, sliding his fingers down to where I was wet and desperate for him. ‘Yes or no?’ He growled, nipping at my earlobe. Fingers lazily swiping through my slick folds.
What kind of question was that? ‘Yes, yes, every damn time.’
He hesitated, and for a moment I wondered if he wanted to stop. That thought went out the window when he seemed to get more passionate—if that was even possible—faster than my brain could comprehend. He was unzipping my jeans and pushing them down my thighs, crouching down to get them off my legs. My hands flew out to the side, gripping hold of the shelves as he pressed fervent kisses all the way up my thighs.
‘George,’ I tilted my head back, running my fingers through his hair.
