She gives me a small nod and goes back into the supply room.
I can do this!
I wheel myself down the hallway before I can reconsider.
His door is the fourth one down on the left. I roll up to it, and I knock, sucking in another deep breath.
“Come in.”
His voice is clear and low, and I nudge the door open with the tip of the footrest and wheel myself in.
He looks up from where he is half-reclined against a raised pillow. His dark hair is down, and loose over his shoulders. It makes him look like something off the cover of a fantasy novel. His coloring is back to normal. He looks freaking incredible, which isn’t fair given that he was half dead yesterday.
When he sees me, he smiles, and the dimple appears on his right cheek. It makes him look even better. Damn him.
He’s huge. He takes up the full width and length of the bed. I need to chat with Robyn about special-sized beds for the extra-big shifters who come in. Guys like Magma.
“Come in,” he says again. “Wheel on over. It’s good to see you, Carla.”
I park up at the side of the bed, and we just look at each other for a few moments. They’re a little charged.
His gaze moves to my bandaged feet on the chair’s footrests.
“How are you doing?” He puts his beautiful green eyes back on me, and the air leaves my lungs for a second.
I suck in a breath.
“Fine,” I quickly say. “I’m sure I can walk on my own steam, but apparently there’s a hospital policy about having to use a wheelchair. Nurse Kayla is super strict.”
“Good for her.” His eyes stay on mine. “You look much better.”
“You look great yourself,” I say. Is ‘great’ too much?“Your color’s back.”
“All I needed was a meal or two and some sleep.” He lifts a shoulder carefully, mindful of the collarbone. “I guess I’m lucky I’m a shifter.”
“You guys heal quickly. It’s always a shocker on how you can go from half dead to walking out of here in a matter of days.”
“How do you feel? Do you have any pain?” He lifts his brows.
“Nothing to complain about. I’m being discharged shortly. In less than an hour.” I straighten in the chair. “That’s partly why I came. I wanted to thank you before I left.”
Something in his expression shifts, though he holds my gaze the same. I’m not sure what it is exactly.
“Magma.” I hold his gaze, feeling emotional all of a sudden. “If it weren’t for you, I?—”
“You don’t need to,” he says.
“I want to.” I pause. “What you did out there. You could have been killed.”
He waves it off and shakes his head. “Forget about what happened on Mistveil. All of it. You’re home. You’re safe. That’s what matters.” He pauses. “Now live your life, Carla.”
I nod a few times. I have a lump in my throat.
“I heard you have a date with Flint,” he says. His tone stays easy. “Saturday, isn’t it? I’m glad. I really hope it goes well.” He looks like he means it too.
The words sting.
Crap!
