Stealing Her (Covet 1)

“Bridge.” She said my name like a plea, and I wanted to give her everything that plea implied, right there, on the kitchen counter if it came to that. “I like you.”

I smiled against her mouth.

It was a start.

Especially after all the confessions last night. “I like you too.”

“I’m scared.”

I pulled back. “Of what?”

“Us. This.”

“Nothing to be afraid of. I’ve been with you for the last month and two days, I’m with you now, Izzy. I won’t leave your side.”

“Swear?”

“Swear.” I kissed her forehead. “We should go before I lose what restraint I have left.”

She smiled up at me and winked. “Yeah, wouldn’t want you to lose out on that sainthood.”

“Smart-ass,” I grumbled, smacking her in the ass and making her jump as I went to the door and opened it for her. “No matter what happens, Izzy.”

“No matter what happens,” she repeated in a strong voice.

We took a town car to the hospital.

I let the office know I was sick and would be coming in later that afternoon after seeing the doctor—it wasn’t a total lie, I was going to the hospital.

Dad had called my phone twice already.

I told him I had a stomach flu and that I would be in as soon as I was done puking, and then I had coffee sent to his office along with enough donuts to make everyone on the floor happy and distracted.

It was a Wednesday, and I didn’t have any meetings scheduled until later that afternoon, which freed me up to take Izzy to the hospital. Not only didn’t I want her to go alone, I knew she wouldn’t get in to see Julian without me—too much security—too many family secrets.

Izzy held my hand the entire drive. She had her black sunglasses pushed high on her nose, her hair pulled into a messy bun on the top of her head, and she was wearing skinny jeans, heels, and a black sweater.

To her that was casual.

She looked beautiful, so I didn’t comment. That was her flying under the radar.

Skinny jeans.

The car pulled up to the hospital too soon.

“We’ll be a little while,” I said under my breath.

“Got my book.” The driver held his book high and grinned.

“Good.”

He shut the door after us and then got back into the car. I grabbed Izzy’s hand and squeezed it. “Ready?” “Nope.” She sighed and held on to my arm. “I don’t know how to feel right now.”

“Just allow yourself to feel, Izzy, that’s all I ask,” I said quietly as we walked into the hospital. If people recognized us, they didn’t say anything. The elevator was blessedly empty when we walked into it. I hit the old ICU floor.

The doors opened.

My heart thundered in my chest like it was trying to warn me.

I didn’t want her to see him. Not really.

Because she would hate me when she saw how much he was suffering in that coma, she would hate herself for spending time with me.

I felt like I was screwing myself.

But I had no other choice.

Hand in hand, we walked out of that elevator and toward the two blue metal doors. I hit the comm. “It’s Julian Tennyson.”

I felt Izzy tense next to me.

The doors buzzed open.

We walked down the hall.

One of the charge nurses that I’d talked to last was at the desk along with another nurse whose name I could never remember. She was always coming in and checking on Julian, and always talked to him like he could hear her. She was sweet.

We stopped in front of his room. “You want to go in by yourself?”

Izzy shook her head no.

Shit.

I opened the door. She took a deep breath and walked in while I closed the door behind us.

The machines buzzed in the tense silence.

His chest rose and fell with each breath as the machines breathed for him, his face now showed only a few pink scars from the stitches across his jaw.

His arms were at his sides, lifeless.

“Julian.” Izzy let go of my hand and rushed to his side.

I felt the loss of her warmth immediately.

Just like I felt the loss of her by my side.

I was an idiot to think I could hold on to her when Julian was the one who’d saved her in college.

Julian was the one who’d proposed to her with a rock I could never afford.

Julian was the hero even if he was also the villain.

I hung my head and tried not to let bitterness take root, as resentment pounded against my heart like it wanted me to let it in and take over so I didn’t hurt, so I didn’t feel like my chest was about to crack open.

“Julian.” She sat in the chair next to the bed, scooted it forward, and grabbed his hand between hers. “You need to wake up.”

I couldn’t breathe.

Couldn’t think beyond the image that was in front of me.