Danny shrugs, not looking the least bit embarrassed. “Let him hear your voice. It might help.”
So I read.
I start with a thriller about a detective hunting a serial killer. My voice is rough at first, hesitant, but as the story unfolds, I get into it. I do different voices for different characters, add dramatic pauses at tense moments.
Luca doesn’t wake up, but I swear his fingers twitch when I get to a particularly exciting part.
“You better be listening,” I tell him during a break. “Because I’m not going back and re-reading this whole chapter if you miss it.”
I read until my voice gives out or until the nurses insist I need rest. Then I lie in my bed, holding Luca’s hand and watching his chest rise and fall.
On the third day, I’m feeling bold. Restless. The gunshot wound is healing well. I’m off the heavy pain medications and moving around more easily. The baby is fine, according to the daily ultrasounds they insist on doing.
But Luca still hasn’t woken up.
So I pick up one of the romance novels Danny brought. It’s got a shirtless man on the cover and a title that makes me blush just reading it.
“Okay, Luca.” I settle into my chair beside his bed. “This one isdefinitelygoing to make you wake up. If only to complain about how terrible it is. And you better not judge me.Dannypicked this out.”
I open to the first page and start reading.
The prose is, well, it’s not good. The hero is described in such over-the-top terms that I have to stop several times to laugh. The heroine is helpless and swooning. The plot is ridiculous—something about a billionaire werewolf and his fated mate.
“Oh god,” I say, barely able to get through a particularly purple passage about the hero’s “smoldering emerald eyes” and “chiseled marble abs.” “Luca, if you don’t wake up and save me from this book, I’m going to assume you actually like this kind of writing,” I dramatically whisper, leaning forward. “Iamconcerned that Danny has read this though. If he has, he hasterribletaste.”
I keep reading, getting more dramatic with each terrible line. I’m doing voices again—a deep, growly one for the werewolf billionaire, a breathy one for the heroine.
“‘His touch ignited flames of desire deep within her core,’” I read, barely suppressing a giggle. “‘She knew in that moment that she was his, body and soul, forever bound by the?—’”
“What the hell are you even reading?” a rough, gravelly voice interrupts.
I drop the book.
Luca’s eyes are open. Just barely, just slits of dark brown, but they’re open and they’re looking at me and he’s awake.
“Luca!” His name comes out as a sob and I scramble upright, trying to get out of the chair.
I throw myself at him despite the pain in my chest and the tubes and wires. He grunts. My arms wrap around him as carefully as I can manage, and I’m crying, sobbing into his hospital gown.
“Ow,” he says, but there’s amusement in his voice. “Cara, you’re killing me.”
I gape at him. How could he even say something like that after everything that’s happened? “Don’t youever—” I can barely get the words out through my tears. “Don’t you ever do that to me again.Threedays, Luca. Three days you’ve been unconscious while I’ve been losing my mind?—”
His good arm comes up, wrapping around me and holding me against his chest. I can hear his heartbeat, strong and steady, and it’s the most beautiful sound in the world.
“I’m okay,” he murmurs against my hair. “I’m okay, Gigi. I’m right here.”
“You died,” I sob, all the emotions I’ve bottled up over the last few days finally bubbling to the surface. “You died and then they brought you back and then you wouldn’t wake up and I thought—I thought?—”
“Shh.” His hand strokes down my back, soothing. “I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”
I pull back just enough to look at his face. He’s pale, drawn, clearly in pain despite the medications. But his eyes are clear and focused on me with such intensity that it steals my breath.
“You’re really awake,” I whisper, touching his face like I need to confirm he’s real.
“Really awake.” His full lips quirk. “Though I’m questioning your taste in literature. A werewolf billionaire?Really?”
I laugh, the sound watery and slightly hysterical. “Danny brought them. I was trying to annoy you into consciousness.”
