“Can we take her home now?” Mrs. West asks.
“Home?” I blurt out. “Shouldn’t she be monitored if she’s passing out from pain?”
“She’s been given some pain medication,” the doctor answers. “She’s lucid and asking when she can escape this death trap. If there aren’t any more questions?” He doesn’t wait for a response before leaving.
“Okay,” Mrs. West says. “I think Dad and I should bring her home with us.”
“No way,” Juniper responds. “She’ll lose her mind if she has to stay with you two lovebirds.”
Aspen clears her throat and indicates the hallway with a tilt of her head. What does she mean? I cock an eyebrow. She points to the hallway and mouths go!
While the West family argues about where to accommodate Ashlyn while she recovers, I sneak down the hall toward her room.
“Finally!” she yells when I walk in. Her brow wrinkles when she glances over and realizes it’s me. “Sorry. I thought you were Juniper coming to break me out of here.”
Despite being in a hospital and in pain, she’s gorgeous. Her long, blonde hair is piled up on top of her head, but several strands have escaped and frame her face. Her bright blue eyes are dulled slightly with pain, but they continue to stare at me as if she can detect every secret I’m trying to hide from her. She’s usually smiling and laughing at the world, but now there are brackets around her mouth. She’s in pain and I don’t like it one bit.
“She’s down the hall.”
“Tell the truth. Is my mom with them?” At my nod, she sighs. “Mom is going to insist I stay with them.”
“You’re staying with me.” The words coming out of my mouth shock me as much as they do Ashlyn.
Her nose scrunches. “I’m sorry. I think I’m hallucinating. These drugs they gave me must be better than I thought.”
“Why do you think you’re hallucinating?”
She snorts. “I couldn’t have possibly heard the big, bad Rowan insist I stay at his house.”
I cross my arms over my chest and watch with more than a bit of satisfaction as her eyes flare. “Why not?”
Her eyebrows fly up and her mouth drops open. “You’re seriously asking me?” When I remain silent, she continues, “Um, maybe because you can barely stand the sight of me.”
“What makes you say that?”
“It’s this little thing most people refer to as ‘the truth’.”
“I don’t hate you.”
“Ya coulda fooled me.”
Crap. I don’t want her to hate me. I don’t want to want her either, but my body yearns for hers. It has since she was sixteen. Since I was twenty-four at the time, I thought I was a sick fuck and avoided her for years. But I couldn’t avoid her anymore when I moved back to town after my life fell apart.
“I get it,” she says and draws me out of my fantasies of her.
“Get what?”
“This.” She motions between the two of us. “You feel guilty about my broken ankle. You think it’s your fault.”
“It is my fault. I shouldn’t have dragged you out of the attic the way I did.”
She rolls her eyes. “Listen to me carefully. I’ll speak slowly for you. This is not your fault.”
A shiver travels down my spine at the sound of her voice. Ashlyn is a gorgeous woman, but her deep, raspy voice makes me want to throw her down and have my wicked way with her. I shove those thoughts out of my mind. Now is not the time. Never is the time. I don’t deserve her.
I grunt. “Agree to disagree.”
“Fine. Whatever. Can you send my family in? I’m ready to go home.”