"How long?" I asked, the words struggling to make it past the dry desert of my mouth.
"Just another few hours."
Nick rose. "I'll get the nurse."
"Cal?" I asked, noting yet again his absence. Fear and anxiety warred in my stomach, a bitter brewing mess. They weren't telling me something.
Collins soothed a hand over my head, brushing back stray hairs. I tried not to wince at the waves of pain that action sent through my body.
"You still have exceptionally poor timing. I sent him to get a coffee. He'll be back any minute."
"He's okay?"
"Em, you were the only one injured."
I closed my eyes, letting myself sink back on the bed, relief turning my bones to liquid.
I heard steps; those footfalls as familiar to me as the back of my hand.
"Cal."
And like a welcome rain after a drought, he appeared big, broad and looking as if his face were carved with worry and exhaustion.
And a beard.
When did he grow a beard?
A fission of something unfamiliar and ugly raced down my back, finding a home in my stomach.
"Emily." He strode immediately to my bed, handing off the coffee cup in his hand to Collins as he dropped into the vacant seat at the side of my bed, his hand immediately reaching to mine, removing it from Collins' grasp and pressing his palm to my own. "You're awake."
I tried to nod, immediately gritting my teeth against the searing pain pounding through my head. "Are you okay?"
"Of course," he replied immediately, pressing a kiss to the back of my hand. "You were the only one in the car."
"I don't remember."
He shook his head. "It doesn't matter. All that matters is that you're okay."
I tried to squeeze his hand but could only manage a limp flex of my fingers. "I love you."
"Love you too, Pretty Eyes. And I'm sorry. I want you to give me another chance."
Another chance?
"What?"
He rose, pressing a chaste kiss to my lips. His beard scratched my face in a way that felt unfamiliar. I reached up, brushing a finger over the hair, a rasping sound following my movement.
"When did you grow this? How long have I been out?"
The room went electric. Cal's eyes darkened, a frown marking his brow.
"Emily," he said slowly. "What do you mean? I've had this beard for two years."
I scoffed, rolling my eyes and finding it was yet another movement I couldn't do with a head injury.
"Ow," I reached up, gingerly touching my temple. "Stop joking around. Everything hurts."
