Our Love Story

I twist my lips, unable to resist the sweet words. They pour over my heart and seep into my bones.

“Stop,” I say blushing. But really, I love it.

I love them.

Ethan, Enzo, and Noah leave for the resort, and I nestle closer to Mason in his oversized hospital bed. His entire right leg is in bandages. Nothing broke, thank God, but the skin grafts may not work. If they don’t, he may require a prosthetic.

I take his hand in mine, missing his touch, his warm embrace. The hospital air is so muggy and stifled, and I just know how much Mason would love to be outside, feeling a tropical breeze. The calming rush of the waves would soothe his worries away.

“It’s been a long week without you, Chloe,” he tells me, kissing the top of my head. I have to agree with him there. All week everyone has been so tense. There’s been no fooling around. Everyone’s a basket of nerves... praying Mason made it out of surgery okay, anxious for updates. Work is freaking the guys out. It’s been so much. “I swear to God, without knowing you were waiting for me at the end of all this, I don’t know if I could have made it.”

“Mason,” I say, looking up at him, seeing his face cloaked in pain. “I am so sorry this happened to you.”

“Me too. I thought I was fucking invincible, but I’m just a man.”

“You are more than a man,” I tell him. “You are my man.” I lift my mouth to his, offering a kiss, but he winces in pain, and I realize I put too much pressure on his body.

I jump off the bed. “Oh my God, I’m sorry if I hurt you.”

“It’s okay,” he says, but it’s clear it isn’t. His fists are clenched, and at his request I call for a nurse, knowing he needs more meds.

Feeling like a complete idiot for forcing myself on a man who is still recovering, I sit in the chair beside him, wishing there was more I could do.

For him, and for all the guys.

Knowing I love them all with all my heart... but still wondering where my place is at the end of the day.Chapter 24ChloeI practically live at the hospital. I haven’t been to my room at the resort for longer than a quick clothes change and shower. And it seems like every time I’m there, I miss the guys. Black Bull is putting pressure on them, so they’ve become workhorses. Realizing they need to be ahead of the game in case of more unexpected changes of plans, they are devoting themselves to getting footage on every square inch of the island.

I understand.

I do.

I am just a little... bored.

Mason is moody—which I understand. But every time I try to talk to him, he gets angry about the fact he is cooped up in a room watching Wheel of Fortune while the other guys are off having fun.

I try reading to him, but it puts us both to sleep. We try binge watching Breaking Bad but we both get even more pissy with every episode we watch, about being cooped up inside. But the one thing we do happily is fill out a silly book I found in a gift shop titled, Get to Know Me. It’s full of fill in the blank questions meant to bring you closer to your significant other.

I really should buy three more copies and use them with the other guys, because I’m learning all sorts of random things about Mason.

His favorite food is his grandma’s fried chicken. Favorite movie? So I Married an Axe Murderer. Favorite book? Ready Player One.

I answer them too: Chinese take-out. Titanic. TIMBER.

“Timber? A book about a man who lives on the mountain with triplets?” Mason shakes his head. “I don’t get it.”

Unashamed I shrug. “It’s hot. Jaxon is strong, knows what he wants, and doesn’t shy away from responsibility. He loves Harper, and will do anything for her and their babies.”

“That’s the kind of man you want?” Mason clenches his jaw. “Makes me feel like a weak ass fool considering I’m stuck in a hospital room.”

“That’s not what I meant,” I say, running my hand over his arm. “You’re one of the strongest men I know. You knew what you wanted, and you didn’t shy away from it. You didn’t shy away from me.”

Mason sighs. “I wish I was able to leave. Being here makes me feel so fucking lame, Chloe.”

“Soon enough.” I kiss his hand, hating he’s in this kind of pain.

Mason must be working through some of his grief because with a half-smile he asks, “And then you want me to get you pregnant with triplets?”

I snort. “Let’s get through this first and then we can talk babies.”

Our fingers lace together and I’m grateful to glimpse a more lighthearted side of Mason for a change. The last week has been draining.