The fact that he carried me down the mountain—definitely didn’t leave me to die in the cave, and yes, I’d believe him over Yaroslav every time, thank you very much.
The fact that he came all the way to Chicago.
He…kissedme.
Now, I want to have a strong-worded conversation with my sixteen-year-old self and kick him in the ass for not waking up and witnessing the glorious moment when Vaughn kissed me.
It’s just not fair that he was awake when I kissed him, but I wasn’t when he kissed me.
Can I get a redo? Like right now, please.
I cough and it’s like someone’s jammed a knife under my skin. I’m panting for breath as my ribs throb. My hand rests on my messed-up left side, over the bandages covering the gashes—a constant reminder that I’m basically wrapped like a mummy.
“Lie down.” Vaughn helps me onto my back, and he looks devastatingly radiant through my eyes—well, my right one, because the other one is half swollen shut, and the room tilts if I look at anything too fast. I move slowly, not because I want to, but because my body’s in open rebellion and is being an uncooperative little shit.
“Better?” Vaughn’s watching me carefully, as if I’ll drop dead if I so much as sneeze wrong. Okay, fine, maybe he’s right.
“Mmm,” I say to preserve energy. Talking too much leaves me winded, which is deeply insulting—me, out of breath? Please. The audacity.
Also, my split lip makes every word taste faintly of iron, so I better not get too liberal with words.
Vaughn stands by my side, looking mouthwatering in simple black pants and a white shirt, its sleeves rolled, and the first few buttons undone, revealing the lines of his collarbone. But then again, he’s always looked so prettily put together. Although his hair is a bit haphazard, finger-raked, and pointing in different directions.
“What do you want to eat? I’ll go get it from the kitchen.”
I shake my head. “I’d rather you keep telling me about the past.”
“You have to eat first.”
I grumble, but Vaughn being Vaughn—completely inflexible about these sorts of things—leaves and comes back with a tray of food, mostly blended soups and oatmeal and a local type of broth.
He helps me eat, actually feeding me at one point. Vaughn has always been…a rock. No, a fortress.
A force of nature that somehow winds down and becomes surprisingly caring. I always knew he was responsible to a fault, but I never knew he was also caring to a fault.
The way he touches me carefully, how focused he is, how he wipes my mouth like I’m a toddler—they all make my chest hurt, and it’s not because of the fucked-up ribs.
I try to eat as much as possible because I’m hungry, but I’m so uncomfortable that every swallow and breath feels like a marathon.
Once I’m finished with the simple task of eating, nearly dying, Vaughn sets the tray to the side, gives me meds, and helps me lie down again. Then he sits beside me on the bed. “Want any dessert?”
“A cigarette?”
He narrows his eyes. “You’renotsmoking when your ribs are injured, Yulian. Every inhale will make your lungs suffer.”
“I was just kidding.”Not really. Could really use a smoke right now.
“Good, because you’re not getting one.”
“Yes, Mom.” I try to salute, and that triggers pain in my side and I groan. Fuck this, seriously. I’m like a breathing corpse.
Vaughn takes my hand and slowly pulls it down under the duvet. “Stop moving.”
“If I do that, will you tell me more about your visit four years ago?” I ask, then pant. This shit is ridiculous.
He settles on the mattress after tucking me in, staring at me for a few seconds, then at the wall opposite him. “That was all. I left after the conversation with your mother, and that was it.”
“No wonder Mom was panicking when I woke up.” I stare at the ornate ceiling—seriously, this place looks like a museum. “She made me promise to marry a woman and father kids. Bless her, she was horrified at the thought of the trouble I’d most certainly cause.”
