“You’re crass.”
“Thank you.” He grinned.
Heat flooded my cheeks as I tossed in the popcorn and waited for it to pop while I stood in front of the microwave.
And I knew he was watching me.
I liked it.
I suddenly didn’t want to ask about Julian. I would go see him, I would hold his hand, I would confess everything.
But right now, I just wanted to sit with Bridge, with no secrets between us, eating popcorn.
I jumped when the microwave dinged. And just like he said, Bridge watched me walk all the way back to the couch, and when I handed him the bowl, he took one kernel and tossed it to the floor then gave me a look that said, Well? Pick it up.
I scowled while he grabbed another piece and tossed it on the carpeting.
“I can’t decide if you’re just really bad at flirting or still stuck in middle school.”
He barked out a laugh. “I slayed in middle school.”
I picked up the popcorn and shoved it into his mouth and kept my hand over it while he chewed. His skin even felt good. I could keep my hand there forever.
“I bet you did.”
“Not as much as Julian, though, he has better hair.”
I smiled at that. “He does have nice hair. Then again, so do you.” Before I knew what I was doing, I put the popcorn bowl down on the table and ran my fingers through his hair while he wrapped his arms around my waist and pressed his face to my stomach.
Butterflies erupted.
His touch was everything.
Not just that, but the way that he seemed to sense that I wanted to be held, touched, treasured.
“Come here.” He pulled me onto his lap and grabbed a blanket, then covered both of us with it. “Try to relax, alright?”
Relax? My heart was thundering out of my chest.
This was the man who had brought it back.
This man.
Not Julian.
I pressed my head against his chest and whispered, “What happens if the wedding day comes and he’s not awake?”
He went completely rigid and grabbed my left hand and squeezed it. “I don’t really think we’ve been given that choice, Izzy.”
“Am I a bad person?” I wondered out loud.
“Why would you say that?” He played with my hair then kissed the side of my head while I struggled with the right words.
“At the hospital, I could have fought more to see him, I could have yelled, I could have done so many things, but I just . . . I don’t know, Bridge. I felt so damn relieved that it was over, that our engagement was done, that I was done walking on eggshells, done being hurt by a man who said he loved me.”
“Izzy, that makes you human.”
“A bad human.”
“A fantastic, intelligent, wonderful, sexy human,” he added with another kiss. “Your heart was bruised, you were in pain. All you wanted was relief.”
I turned my face into his chest, loving the way he smelled even if it was similar to Julian. It was still different enough that I clung to him tighter. “I needed to hear that.”
“I’m not leaving you, Izzy.”
I smiled against his chest. “Good.”
He moved a bit and then his lips were on my ear. “We can talk more about him tomorrow, about our plan, but for now, can we just be two people on a couch, watching Space Jam?”
I jolted and turned around. “Space Jam?”
“Kidding.” He smirked. “I just wanted to see your face.”
I smacked him on his muscular shoulder. “You have HGTV on.”
“I like nice things.” He winked and then pressed the softest kiss to my lips I’d ever received. “Why else do you think I want to hold you tonight?”
My heart thumped wildly, and then I tucked myself next to his body and fell asleep with a peaceful smile on my face.
Chapter Thirty-Six
BRIDGE
I woke up with a beautiful woman in my arms.
One I wanted to call mine.
One I couldn’t claim.
It was the worst feeling, knowing I’d found someone who I could love for the rest of my life—who currently belonged to someone else who looked just like me.
Shit, it was messed up.
I asked her if she wanted to see him, and she said yes. I knew we needed to be careful and would obviously need to swear the staff to silence, but I figured if money could get him an abandoned ICU wing then I’d just throw more at the hospital to get Izzy in.
There wasn’t anything I wouldn’t do for her, which I repeated that morning when she came into the bedroom wearing nothing but a towel.
I eyed her up and down and said, “I think I prefer the towel off.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “I’m sure you do.”
“There may be a towel shortage in the future, fair warning.”
“Good. I’ll just use your clothes to dry off and then throw your favorite sweatpants over the balcony.”