I chug the liquid down. “When can I leave?”
“Soon." She swallows, her fingers tightening. “You were grazed by a bullet. You needed stitches, but they were more worried about the shock. Are you feeling okay?”
I nod. Although my mind is a little fuzzy, it’s nothing compared to the moments after Ben… “What happened? Is everyone okay?”
“Everyone is fine. You had the worst injury.” The corner of her mouth tips down, her brow puckering as she searches my eyes. “Ben’s been arrested. They added assault with a deadly weapon to his litany of charges. The cops were here earlier, and I gave them a statement. So did Brienne. She’s been texting me updates, but you haven’t missed much other than that. You’ll have to talk to the cops eventually.”
I nod.
Her smile is tremulous. She shifts closer to me, blinking rapidly. “I was so worried about you.” Her voice wavers.
“Hey. I’m okay. Come here.” I maneuver to one side, tugging on her fingers to pull her closer.
Without hesitation, she scrambles in next to me on the narrow bed and rests her face in the crook of my good arm, the tip of her nose cold against the skin of my neck. She takes a deep breath and relaxes, sinking farther into me.
For the first time in days, a tightness inside me releases and settles, and I can breathe again.
“Are you in pain?” she asks.
“No.”
She lifts her head from my shoulder, her hand sliding along my bristled cheek. “You haven’t shaved.”
“I didn’t want to.”
She searches my face. “You haven’t been sleeping well.”
Her words… a smile tugs at my lips. Every word I’ve exchanged with Piper Fox is seared into my very being. I know what comes next. “Have you?”
She bites her lip. “Touché.”
Hope surges to life, bursting through me. I move the conversation ahead to my favorite part. “I want you.”
Her smile is the sun breaking through the clouds and warming all my cold, dark corners.
“I mean, I need you,” I continue. But then I have to deviate from the original script. “And I absolutely mean all of it.”
Her arms lift around my neck, her leg sliding over my waist. She molds her body against me, and then her lips slide against mine.
“I’m so sorry.” She continues to kiss me, murmuring against my lips, her fingers rubbing my jaw, her words falling out in between the pleasurable assault. “I wanted you to meet me this morning so I could tell you. I’m sorry I didn’t trust you. I’m sorry I didn’t call you sooner. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about everything. I missed you so much. I thought I was going to lose you today.” Her voice cracks.
Bliss is buoyant heat fizzing in my chest and expanding to my limbs. We kiss and touch and whisper sweet words, relearning the scent of each other. We hold each other for an eternity. It’s not long enough. My one hand is in her hair, making the messy tendrils even messier, and the other hand—my injured arm—finds the best resting place possible and cups her bottom. Perfection.
Or not. She pulls away from me. Her eyes are troubled.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m not going to have all the pieces done in time for the exhibit.”
“I know.”
Her brows lift. “You do?”
“You aren’t exactly an accomplished liar. I suspected something was amiss when you first came to me with your space issue, and then my suspicions deepened when Finley asked you how your work was going at dinner, and you said it was great the same way someone describes a recent root canal.”
She winces. “I guess I’m more transparent than I thought.”
“It’s fine. I have a plan.”