I laid my hand on Hunter’s uninjured arm. “Oh, Hunter,” I whispered. “You foolish man.”
Dr. Michaels smiled at me. “He did say your name a few times. Talk to him. Let him know you’re here. It will bring him some comfort. I’ll check in again in a short while.”
“Thank you,” I said, not looking up from Hunter’s bruised face.
The doctor left, the door swinging closed slowly behind him. The only sounds in the room were the low beeps of the machines, Hunter’s slow, steady breathing, and my own short breaths. Seeing him like this, lying there hurt and bruised, scared me. He was always so vital and strong. Independent and in control. He was going to need help to recover. To be cared for and looked after.
And I was going to be the one to do it.
No matter how hard he fought against me.
* * *
Hunter
My eyes fluttered open, taking a moment to focus in the dimness around me. The room was unfamiliar, the dull beige walls and industrial ceiling not those of my bedroom. I peered around, taking in the machines, the IV, and the medicinal smell.
This was a hospital room.
Why was I in a hospital?
Fractured memories hit. The roof. The tarp. Slipping. Rolling. Grasping at air. The green of the ground as it rushed up to meet me. The impact. The long, painful process to get to the porch.
And then nothing.
Except, in my mind, there was a voice. A sweet, warm voice I knew. Telling me she was there. That everything would be okay. Begging me to stay. Whispering…I love you?
Slowly, I turned my head, and there she was.
Ava.
She was asleep in a chair close to the bed, her hand wrapped around mine, her other arm tucked under her head. She looked like a pretzel in the chair, and I could only imagine how stiff she would be when she woke up.
How long had I been here?
I swallowed, my throat feeling thick and dry. I attempted to lift my arm but realized it was in a sling. I groaned as my body reacted to my movement, and Ava sat upright, instantly alert.
She stood, hovering over me, our eyes locked. Hers were red-rimmed and weary, the usually bright hue of her irises dull and worried. Her face was pale, and her bottom lip looked as if she’d bitten it for hours on end.
“Hi,” I managed to rasp out.
“Hunter,” she whispered, her hands fluttering as if wanting to touch me but unsure. Strangely, I needed to feel her touch. I needed her to connect me back to this moment.
“Please,” I asked, unable to say the words.
She cupped my face, her skin cool against mine. I sighed in relief and leaned into her caress.
“Wh-what happened?” I asked.
“You fell off the roof. I found you,” she said simply.
I cleared my throat, closing my eyes in gratitude as she slipped an ice chip between my lips. The cold eased the dry feeling, and I opened my eyes. “More.”
She fed me a few, waiting patiently as each one melted before giving me another.
“You found me?” I asked.
“Cash showed up at my back door. He was frantic. I followed him to your place and found you on the porch—” she swallowed deeply “—ice cold, bleeding, and unconscious.” She had to swallow again. “I called the ambulance.”
The lingering fear and worry were plain in her voice.
“I’m sorry.”
She lifted her gaze to mine, her eyes blazing. “Once you’ve recovered, we’re going to discuss you being up on the roof on a rainy day, alone, without a safety harness. But not now.” She patted my arm. “Right now, I’m simply grateful you’re still here.” She straightened. “I’m going to go let them know you’re awake.”
“Ava—”
She cut me off. “They think I’m your fiancée. It was the only way I could stay here. So, until further notice, we’re engaged. You got that?”
I blinked at her words. “Okay.”
“I told them you weren’t on any medications I knew of and you weren’t allergic to anything. Was I wrong?”
“No.”
“Okay. I’ll go get the doctor.”
I captured her hand before she could leave. “Tell me what my injuries are. I have a massive headache, so I assume a concussion?”
She nodded. “Broken ribs, dislocated shoulder, sprained ankle, concussion, contusions, and cuts.” Her voice shook. “If I hadn’t found you, Hunter…” Her words ended on a sob.
I tugged her closer, trying not to wince at the jolt of pain it caused. “I’m sorry, Little Dragon. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
She pulled against me. “I have to get the doctor.”
“No, wait a second. Just stay with me for a minute. Please.”
She sat down, wrapping her hands around mine. She rested her forehead against our clasped fingers, and I knew she was crying.
“I’m sorry for scaring you,” I repeated. “And I’m sorry for being an ass to you.” I flexed my fingers, even that simple action causing me pain. “I do that.”