“On it. Already texted everyone. They’ll all be stumbling through the door in like twenty minutes or less.”
“Thank you.”
“No problem. I would say ‘any time,’ but I’m kind of hoping this is the only time we have to do something like this.”
“No shit, right?”
“Luca, try not to get kidnapped again, huh?” Lil teases.
I roll my eyes at her. “You’re such an ass.”
“I know. But it’s been a long five days of not giving you shit.”
“She’s lying. I think she actually gave youmoreshit because you couldn’t respond to it.” Ari still doesn’t sound like her normal self, but closer than she did ten minutes ago. It’s a fucking start.
“Well, I had to make sure to inform him every time he missed an opportunity to harass you about coffee and pasta. Which was a lot, Luca. Five days of straight carbs and caffeine.”
“Speaking of, I have to go to the bathroom,” Ari says. I kiss her head before she goes. My mouth feels disgusting, and as much as I want to give her a real kiss, I’m not going to inflict five-day-coma-breath on her.
As soon as the bathroom door closes, I turn to Lil. “Did she sleep much?” I ask quietly.
Lil huffs a sad laugh. “Hardly.” She keeps her voice low, too. “She wouldn’t use the cot. She sat in this chair the whole time. She didn’t leave this room except to go into that bathroom, and she took the fastest showers I’ve ever known her to take because she was terrified you would either die or wake up when she wasn’t here with you.”
“Fuck.”
She shrugs. “Can you say you would have done things differently if she was the one in that bed?”
“No. Doesn’t mean I have to be happy about it.”
Ariana walks out of the bathroom. I try to convince her to snuggle with me on the bed, but everyone shows up and she takesup her post in the chair while they visit. Becca and Mia cry and fuss over me. Dad and Marco try to play it cool, but I can read them both pretty well by now. Their relief is palatable.
My face is a mess of bruises. I see it in the mirror when I go to the bathroom to pee (removing a catheter is super fun, by the way) and brush my teeth, which fucking hurts too. As much as I want a shower, that’s not happening yet. I’m moving like an old man and can’t stand for very long.
“I’ll give you another sponge bath later,” Ariana whispers in my ear when I mention the shower.
“Such a minx. Can you maybe try not to give me a boner when there’s literally no hiding it?” I whisper back, gesturing to my hospital gown. “Wait, how many sponge baths did I sleep through?”
“Four.”
“Motherfucker,” I groan. She grins at me. “Maybe I can talk you into reenacting them.” I wag my eyebrows at her. She still looks tired but much less stressed and scared.
Hours later, after everyone except Lil goes back home for the night, my girl finally crawls onto the bed and curls up on her side with her head on my chest. She’s still extremely careful about where she touches me, avoiding my stab wounds and ribs.
“You lied to me, you know,” I tell her as we settle in for the night.
“What do you mean?” She pulls back and looks at me, her eyebrows pinched together.
“You can totally drive a stick.”
Her cheeks turn pink, and Lil snorts from her cot in the corner.
“Yeah, sorry about that.”
“And you stole the Maserati.”
“Lil helped.”
“Barely, that was like 95% an Ariana job,” Lil says.
