What kind of fucking nickname was flower anyway?
“Don’t touch it,” she hissed. “It hurts.”
“I’m sorry.” His eyes found mine before they narrowed, and he flicked them toward the door.Get out, was what his body language conveyed.
Magnolia may not, nor ever will, be mine. But my territorial nature kicked in, and I smirked before walking over to Mags.
I grabbed her hand with the ice pack and guided it to her wound, softly pressing it against it. “Keep ice on it for ten minutes, off for five, on again for ten, and then off for twenty. Lay down on the bed and watch TV or something. Drink a lot of water to stay hydrated. Rest, okay?” My voice was soft, and she hung on every word I said. It gave me a sense of pride and confidence as she listened.
“Thanks, Luca.” She gulped as I moved my hand from hers.
“We may not have the best past, but I care about you.” I started walking toward the door. “You’re my cousin’s best friend, after all.” I opened the door and let it close behind me.
I should’ve kept my mouth shut so I didn’t complicate shit, but Declan pissed me off when he was around her.
I stepped inside my room next door and groaned. “What the fuck am I doing?”
The inside of the hotel rooms were designed the same. One king-size bed in the middle, a porcelain sink with white cabinets outside of the bathroom on the opposite side of the room, and a TV hanging in front of the bed. A hot flash of jealousy warped through me at the thought of Mags sharing a bed with Declan.
I muttered curse words under my breath as I stripped the sweaty blood-speckled clothes and entered the bathroom. A big glass shower was nestled in the corner, a jacuzzi tub in the center, and a toilet in the other corner. I threw the clothes on the white tile and turned the shower on before I stepped into the hot stream.
I washed away Mags’ blood, the sweat, and the lingering feelings that tried to claim me. I couldn’t be the man she needed. I wasn’t made for relationships, no matter how much I wished I was. I’d damn well better remember that.
Day One
4:40 PM - 9 PM - Dinner & the Aftermath
I took Luca’s advice by icing the gash and lying on the bed for a couple of hours. Declan had apologized profusely more times than I could count. He’d been clingy since Luca left, and I knew it was jealousy. Declan was an open book who wore his emotions on his sleeve.
“We don’t have to go to dinner. We could just stay in.” The edge of the bed dipped where he sat next to me.
I poked my tongue into my cheek and inhaled a long breath as I sat up. “As much as I’d love to, Faith would kill me if I didn’t get my ass up out of bed and celebrate her love.”
His eyes shone with concern as he stared at me. “We only have thirty minutes to get ready. Are you sure?”
My eyes widened. “Thirty-minutes?” I hopped out of bed, ignoring the pulsating in my lip, and rushed to the bathroom.
As soon as I saw myself in the mirror, I grimaced. I looked like I had been beaten with a bat, which wasn’t far off considering it was a golf club. My blonde hair sat in a messy knot on top of my head, tangled to hell. My eyes were swollen and red. The gash on my lip was gaping open, and the purple bruising took up most of the lower part of my face. I turned the faucet on and ran a washcloth under luke-warm water. I dabbed the rag around the gash, cleaning up the remaining dried blood.
Declan appeared behind me with his brows knitted into a frown. “I’m so sorry.”
I let out a whoosh of air. Something about him apologizing went through me. “Stop apologizing. I’ll be fine.” I walked into the room and grabbed my make-up bag from the counter. I rummaged through it until I found a concealer, foundation, and some powder.
I marched back into the bathroom and studied the bruising. I palmed my forehead and pulled out my phone, calling Eve.
“Hey, are you okay?” Her worried voice came through the receiver.
“No. I have a massive bruise and gash on my face. Can you come to my room and help me cover it up?”
“What’s your room number?” she asked.
“Fifty-one.”
“On my way,” she said before hanging up.
Tears welled up in my eyes as I stared at my reflection. Insecurity didn’t look good on me, but how the fuck was I supposed to control that now?
“Maggie, I’m sorry.” Declan wrapped his arms around my waist as I stiffened.
