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“Did he tell you his name?”
“Sean, I think.”
Sean… Nope. That did not sound familiar. If that had been the name she knew him by, wouldn’t it have rung a bell? “Who was he asking about?”
The nurse stopped walking, regarding Addison with borderline hostility. “Why do you need to know?”
“Was he looking for Kyle Yarrow?”
Her blonde eyebrows drew together. “Why are you asking so many questions?”
“I need to know what he’s doing here. Kyle is my brother.”
“He was looking for Kyle, yes, and I’ve no idea who that is. Why aren’t you wearing shoes?”
“My… er, friend, carried me in when I was ill earlier. They’re about to discharge me. I was on my way to the restroom when I recognized the guy.”
“Well, then follow up with him. I’m busy.”
Spinning on her heel, the nurse strode off, blonde ponytail swinging.
The familiar rumble came from behind her. “What are you doing out of bed?”
She’d never been happier to hear Oliver’s voice.
***
Standing in the middle of the corridor, she still looked pale—and now also very guilty. “Whoa. Did you buy out the entire flower shop?”
“Just about.” He jerked his head toward her bay. “What are you doing up?”
“I had to pee. Are those for me?”
They were for her, but now with her asking, the flowers felt too personal. Too… romantic. There couldn’t be romance between them. Romance was addicting. It led to things. Things he didn’t want with her. Things no one could ever want with him. He looked between the flowers and her, second-guessing his impulsive gesture. But it wasn’t like he could go return them. He extended the bouquet to her. “Yeah.”
Wrapping both arms around the flowers, Addy sank her nose into the blooms. “Mmm… they smell good.”
The colorful bouquet was at painful odds with the drab setting all around her. “Come on, let’s get you back in bed.”
He held the curtain open as she returned to the bay, climbing onto the cot with the flowers. Handing her the hot chocolate, he tucked the blanket around her hips.
At least her eyes no longer looked glassy and feverish. He traced her cool cheek. “The meds must have kicked in.”
“Yeah. I’m feeling much better.”
Reaching into his pocket for the scone, he laid it on her lap. “What are your favorite flowers?”
Addison didn’t even hesitate. “Bluebells.”
Bluebells? What the hell were bluebells?
Before he could ask, she continued. “But I love all flowers. And all of these are so pretty.”
Noticing that she couldn’t eat and cradle the flowers at the same time, he moved the bouquet to the empty chair. “What’s your favorite color?”
Addison took a sip of the chocolate as she considered the question. “Yellow.” Her gaze sharpened on his face. “You look pale. Is this too much? You can drive back. I’ll find my way home after I’m done here.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
