Page 117 of Lucky Shot

You make it so frustratingly hard for someone to love you. It’s fucking maddening.

Those words. Whew. I’ve taken a bit of time to digest them and then to discount them as a figure of speech.

There’s no way the man has fallen for me. He couldn’t have. Not when the mere thought has me panicking, out of habit, while trying to settle into the idea . . . without freaking out all at the same time.

And yet . . . there’s something I can’t place. An intangible feeling that disguises itself as comfort and wanting. It doesn’t feel so bad to feel this way. It’s not as scary as I thought.

“Whit? You there?”

“Yes. Sorry. I was just busy overthinking something.”

“Wow. Cracking jokes at your own expense? You’re definitely feeling better.”

“Only until the pain meds wear off,” I joke.

“Understatement of the year, no doubt.” The silence that follows tells me she wants to say more but is figuring out how to tiptoe around it.

“Just say it or ask it or whatever it is you’re not saying,” I tell her as I rise from the bed and give myself a few seconds to let the lightheadedness dissipate before I head out to the kitchen.

“He saved your life, Whitney.”

“I’m aware.” It’s still hard to grasp the concept that I was that sick and that he was that worried.

“Not only did he save your life, but the few times he came into the hospital, despite how visibly hard it was for him to be there, he took command with you. Your well-being was the only priority.”

“I’ve thanked him. I need to do the same to you. Thank you for being there for me.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m always here for you, no questions asked.” She pauses. “You know he sent the entire nursing staff and your team of doctors thank-you gifts on your behalf after you left?”

“He did?”

“He did. He . . . I like the guy, Whitney. I think he’s a good fit for you.”

“There is no fit for me. There is—”

“This is where I call you on your bullshit and tell you that you see it too. That if you didn’t feel a hint of anything, you’d have found your way out of that penthouse in the sky and gone home regardless of whether you were in pain or not. But you haven’t and that is what is speaking volumes.”

“I don’t know what to say,” I whisper because she’s right. I can talk a good game, but that’s all it is, talk. I’m still here.

“You don’t have to say anything. I’m not trying to win any prizes by making you uncomfortable, but if you could’ve seen the worry on his face and how he set up camp outside of the hospital just in case you needed him. He has shown up time and again for you. That should go for a lot of somethings in your book.”

“It does. It’s . . .” I move down the hallway toward the open-concept family room, kitchen, and sitting room all in one. “Overwhelming and new. I’m fighting every urge I have to push him away to protect myself. I’m failing sometimes but—”

“But you haven’t run,” she says softly, putting a voice to my thoughts. “You haven’t run and you’re trying to figure out why you haven’t when there’s one thing you’re not realizing.”

“What’s that?”

“There is no rhyme or reason on how it’s supposed to go or feel when you start to want more than just the physical with someone. It’s scary and euphoric, and you feel like an idiot for wanting to see that person more and more simply because seeing them makes you feel good inside.” My silence eats up the line as her words settle all around me. “He may be Alexander Hardy to the world and to the press, but it’s clearly apparent he’s simply Hardy to you. A guy who has flaws—like we all do—but who has been patient with you, who wants to take care of you, and who’s obviously trying to put his best foot forward.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything. I’m not talking you into anything. Rather, I’d be doing you a disservice as your best friend if I didn’t point out to you that Hardy is a really good guy and good guys are worth the chaos, the questioning, the doubting, and the wanting.”

“I think I’m beginning to see that.”

And that sticks with me as I look around. There’s one light on above the stove, but other than that, the place is dark, lit only by the light beyond the wall of windows that frame the room.

The place is spectacular and being in it makes me feel like I’m in a movie. I knew places like this existed but never knew they felt like this.