God, I can’t help thinking I’m like a princess in my perfect ivory tower and he’s out there, fighting monsters when I could just open the door and let him in. Can we be together? Can we connect our worlds?
Where’s Zane? I can’t stay away any longer. Not after the fright, thinking Ash was dying. Not after realizing how much I love him. I have to see him. If he’s asleep, I’ll just sit and look at him and hope then I’ll know what to do.
Time passes. Evening falls by the time Zane comes back to the cafeteria to tell me Ash is fully conscious and asking about me. He says Ash isn’t angry with me.
“Go home and get some rest, Zane.” I get up and grab my purse. “I’ll call if we need you.”
Zane nods dubiously and I hurry out of the cafeteria.
Visiting hours don’t apply to us. The nurses pretty much let us come and go as we please. I think it’s because they like Ash and feel sorry for him. I’ve heard them whisper about his dad’s death, the scars on his back, his bruises and his long-lost brother who returned out of the blue.
I walk down the hallway, find his room number, open the door and enter on tiptoe.
It’s quite dark inside. The green screen of the monitors faintly illuminates the room: the empty chair, and the narrow bed with the outline of Ash’s long body under the covers; his dark head resting on the pillow.
He looks so... alone. Which is a stupid thing to worry over. He’s doing better. I talked to the doctor earlier on and he said the bleeding in his liver has almost stopped, and he’s coming out of the light concussion just fine. He doesn’t need anyone hovering over him as he rests.
It still makes my heart clench. I’ll never forget the image of him slumped against the base of the tree in the cold night, his head dipping forward. How cold his skin was. How unresponsive he’d been.
Swallowing past the lump in my throat that seems to have taken permanent residence there, I quietly close the door behind me and go to sit in the chair by the bed. From this side, I can’t see his swollen jaw, the bruises, the bandage on his forehead. Light scruff darkens his jaw and chin and he has shadows under his eyes.
And still he’s so handsome he steals my breath. Memory doesn’t do him justice; it’s whenever I look at him, whenever I’m in full view of that beautiful mouth, that square jaw, the long lashes, the dark brows that speech and coherent thought desert me.
Why did I think gazing at him would help me find an answer? All I want is to kiss him, curl by his side and stay there forever.
I lean forward, brush black hair off his brow. Now it isn’t spiked with gel anymore, it’s all soft and tousled. Makes me want to run my fingers through it, tug lightly as I kiss him.
My hand stills.
Then strong fingers wrap around my wrist, startling a yelp from me.
“Auds?” The warm rasp of his voice sends shivers through me. Then his eyes open to slits, the pale blue peeking through. “I waited for you all day. I think... I must be dreaming again.”
The lump in my throat grows larger, obstructing my breathing. “I’m here now.”
He lifts m
y hand and places a kiss on my palm—hot and rough, and I feel the pleasure of it all the way to my toes. “I like these dreams.”
I frown. “It’s not a dream, Ash.” I pull my hand away. “This is real.”
It’s his turn to frown. “I thought... Zane said you left, and I...” He blinks. “Auds?”
Seeing him so confused makes me want to laugh and cry at the same time. “I had to leave the room when Tyler came, and then... Then I tried to stay away because I’m the reason you got hurt, and I feel so bad about it.” My voice cracks and I have to stop and take a breath.
He reaches for me and I take his hand, mindful of the needle taped on top of it. “The reason I got hurt? What are you talking about?”
“Giving the cops the name of the fight club. I never thought...” I swallow hard. “Didn’t realize I was putting you in danger. I’m so sorry.”
“Sh.” He tangles his fingers with mine. “It was never your fault, Auds. I’m the one who went and got myself into this mess in the first place. Fighting illegally, dealing with shady people. I was afraid I put you in danger, too.” He shifts on the bed and winces, biting his lip.
Alarmed, I try to pull my hand away and get up. “I’ll call the nurse.”
“No.” He tightens his hold. “I’m okay. Just give me a minute.”
I sit stock still until he gets his breath back. “Are you sure?”
He nods. “I’m fine. Just stiff and sore.” His chest rises and falls rapidly under our clasped hands. “What happened is not your fault. I was stupid. I thought I could deal with it on my own. But I can’t. Zane says I can talk to a social worker. Maybe they can help me. Because the house is lost. Dad had debts and...” He trails off, his jaw clenching.