Page 305 of Vicious Temptation

“She’s going to be a pain in my ass for another fifty years.”

I can’t help but laugh.

“Don’t tell her I said that.”

“I’m absolutely telling her.”

He kisses the top of my head then motions down the hall. “Go see Thiago.”

I glance toward his room. I’ve spent the last three days going back and forth between them, sitting with Mamá when she’s awake and holding Thiago’s hand as he sleeps. I’m so exhausted that I sometimes forget which room I’m walking toward until I reach the door.

“He’s still not awake.”

“He will be.”

I look through the window at Mamá once more before nodding. “I hope you’re right.”

“You know I usually am.”

That earns him an eye roll before I push out of his arms and head down the hall.

The steady rhythm of Thiago’s monitor greets me when I return to his room, and each beep reminds me how close I came to never seeing him again. It might be my favorite sound now.

I try not to think about all the nights I fell asleep with my head on his chest, listening to him breathe beneath my ear. Those memories hurt too much when I don’t know what happens to us after this.

I sit beside his bed, my fingers laced through his, tracing slow circles across his knuckles as afternoon sunlight spills through the window. His bruises have already begun to fade to yellow and purple, but the bandages wrapped around his shoulder and ribs tell me how much healing he still has ahead of him.

Since the chaos at the warehouse, I’ve spent most of that time here, trying to untangle loving him from everything he did to hurt me. I still don’t know what forgiveness looks like for us.

But I know I want the chance to find out.

I lift his hand to my lips and press a kiss to his knuckles, unsure whether he can hear me or even knows I’m here. The doctors have assured me he’ll wake up soon. He’s been heavily sedated since surgery to treat the burns on his back and other injuries, while they continue to monitor his concussion.

“You know,” I murmur, “this is getting kind of old.”

Silence.

“You just really enjoy me taking care of you, huh?” I smile, stroking the back of his hand. “No shower for you this time, though.”

A watery laugh escapes me, then catches in my throat.

“But I brought you a lollipop.” I comb my fingers through his curls. “You know...for morale.”

The slightest pressure on my hand makes me freeze.

“Thiago?”

His fingers move again, barely squeezing mine, and a tear slips from the corner of his eye, trailing down his temple.

I’m on my feet in an instant.

“Baby, can you hear me?”

He gives the faintest nod and wets his lips. His throat works through a painful swallow before he tries to speak

“Ch...chama...” he croaks.

His eyes flutter open for only a second, then squeeze shut against the light, but hearing my nickname from his lips after three days nearly brings me to my knees.