Alice felt a chill as she stepped through the doors and into the emergency room at Cedars. The last time she’d been inside a real hospital—as opposed to the fake hospital set she used to work on—was when her mother had died. The associations it brought back were not pleasant.

She’d been halfway to the hospital when her brain had caught up with the panicked impulse that had literally driven her there in a state of highway hypnosis. Possibly she should have had someone else drive her, given her shaking hands and distracted state of mind, but that ship had already sailed.

“Griffin Micklethwaite?” she said to the woman behind the reception desk in the ER.

Her inquiry was regarded with narrowed eyes. “And you are?”

“Family,” she answered without hesitation. “I’m Alice, his emergency contact. I got a call—”

“Come through,” the receptionist said, waving her toward the security desk.

Alice was admitted into a hall that branched at a right angle, lined with exam rooms that faced a nurse’s station in the middle. “Room ten, straight ahead on your right,” one of the nurses told her, waving her in the right direction.

When Alice had tried to call back the person from the studio, she’d been shuttled to her voicemail, so she had no idea what to expect—what kind of accident it was, or how badly Griffin was injured. It couldn’t be too bad if he was still in the ER, right? At least they hadn’t immediately taken him to surgery or anything drastic like that. Still, she was terrified of what she would find as she approached.

The rooms all had large sliding glass doors that opened onto the corridor, but the curtains inside Griffin’s had been pulled for privacy. Through a gap in the curtain, Alice could see that the room was dim except for the pale light of a small fluorescent above the bed where Griffin lay fast asleep.

At least she assumed he was asleep and not unconscious, based on the lack of medical apparatus attached to him. There were no visible marks or signs of injury, and Alice let out a long, shuddering breath at the sight of him seemingly in one piece.

She hadn’t realized exactly how much she loved him until she’d been forced to imagine a world without him in it.

Tears clouded her vision, and she covered her mouth to stifle the sob of relief that threatened to erupt.

“He’s gonna be fine,” said a gruff voice.

Alice hadn’t even registered that there was someone else in the room. Belatedly, she spotted the very large and very recognizable man sitting in a chair beside the bed.

Chuck Hammer, former professional wrestler and star of the Troublemakers franchise as well as nearly a dozen other action films, was kicked back with one booted foot propped on Griffin’s bed, peering at her from beneath his heavy brow. “You’re Alice, aren’t you?”

She managed a jerky nod, swallowing against the burning in her throat.

“He took a bad landing during a stunt and got a bit of a bump on his head,” Chuck explained. “Nothing too serious though. They’ve already done a CT scan and cleared him to go home today.”

Alice’s eyes darted back to Griffin, her stomach twisting as her mind conjured images of his body bouncing like a rag doll off the cement floor of a soundstage. She took a hesitant step toward him, then stopped herself before she followed through on the impulse to crawl into the bed beside him and cradle him in her arms.

Chuck got up from the chair and cleared his throat. “I’m gonna go grab something to eat. Why don’t you sit with him for a while?” On his way out, he gave Alice a gentle push toward the bed.

She sank into the chair Chuck Hammer had just vacated. Now that she was closer, she could see smudges of dirt and blood on Griffin’s skin and clothes, but whether it was stage makeup or from the accident she couldn’t tell. After a moment’s hesitation, she leaned forward and took his hand, clasping it between hers.

Her chest constricted, and with a muffled sob she crumpled forward, pressing her cheek against his hand.

The concussion was conspiring with his insomnia to make him groggy. That was the only reason Griffin had been able to fall asleep in front of Chuck while they were waiting for the doctor to come back and approve his discharge.

To be honest, Griffin was a little embarrassed Chuck had insisted on accompanying him to the hospital after the accident. He was fine. He didn’t want people making it into a big deal. The worst injury was to his pride. He was grateful Chuck had shooed away the people from the studio and the insurance company though. He’d be happy to explain to everyone that it was his own clumsiness and no fault of the stunt and safety teams that caused his footing to slip on the hood of the car, but maybe after his head had stopped throbbing.

The concussion must be giving him hallucinations too. Griffin could swear he’d heard someone say Alice’s name, and then he’d felt her take his hand. For a moment, he lay there, trying to stay in the pleasant fantasy his injured brain had conjured. He knew when he opened his eyes she wouldn’t be there, and he wasn’t in a hurry to return to that reality.

But then he heard a stifled sob that sounded painfully familiar, and felt something wet on his hand. His eyes flew open, and a head of beautiful blonde hair swirled into focus, bent over the bed beside him.

Griffin blinked, afraid that when his vision cleared she’d be gone.

But it was really Alice. She was here.

He spoke her name in a raspy whisper, and her head popped up. Her tearstained eyes met his, and what he saw in them sent a tremor of hope surging through him.

Her grip on his hand tightened. “Are you really okay?”

“I’m fine.” He tried to sound reassuring so she’d stop looking so scared. “It’s just a mild concussion.”

Her lips pursed in a disapproving frown. “You say that like there’s any such thing as just a concussion. If you’d seen the research on brain injury and—”

“I’m okay. Really. They gave me all these tests and it’s so minor they don’t even want to keep me overnight.”

Alice’s chin quivered as her lips tried to form a watery smile. “I’m still your emergency contact?” Her hands were still clenched around his, refusing to let go, and his tremor of hope swelled into a tidal current.

Griffin exhaled a shaky breath as he squeezed her fingers. “I was gonna change it, but then I thought, if I was in trouble, who would I want with me? And it was you, Alice. It’s always going to be you.”

Her eyes filled with fresh tears, and she propelled herself onto the bed and buried her face in his neck. His arms wrapped around her, crushing her to his chest as her body hitched with sobs.

“I was so scared,” she choked through her tears. “They left me a voicemail that there had been an accident and I didn’t know what had happened or how serious it was.”

Griffin’s grip on her tightened. “I’m fine. It’s okay. Everything’s okay now.” He threaded his fingers through her hair, and the knots in his chest loosened as he breathed in the familiar scent of peaches.

She had rushed to the hospital in a panic when she heard he’d been in an accident. That had to mean something. Maybe even that she still loved him.

Pushing herself upright again, Alice touched his cheek, her eyes searching his as her fingertips wandered over his face. “You’re crying.” She sounded surprised.

He covered her hand with his and brought it to his lips. “I missed you,” he said. “God, I missed you. So much.”

She pressed her lips against his cheek, kissing the tears from his face. “I missed you too.” Her mouth found his, and everything else fell away.

The hospital room, the grogginess, the pulsing ache in his head—all of it disappeared as their mouths met in a slow, sumptuous slide. Relief blew through Griffin like a gust of sea air, and the last six weeks of loneliness, their last fight, all of their problems receded in the distance. None of it mattered as long as Alice was here. He’d been blessed with a second chance to make things right. And he would, somehow. He’d make a safe space for her in his life, and this time he’d protect it with everything he had.

Alice’s fingers dug into his shoulders, fierce and possessive, as she pressed her body against his. His hand curled around the back of her neck, and he swept his tongue into her mouth, intoxicated by the taste of her. A low moan formed in the back of his throat as she shifted against him, straining for more contact.

“Ahem.”

They startled apart, and Griffin grinned at his doctor, who stood in the doorway with an amused look on her face. When Alice tried to move away from the bed, Griffin captured her wrist to stay her retreat. He wasn’t letting her out of his reach, not even for a moment.

Dr. Ortiz arched a speculative eyebrow at Alice. “You know he’s going to be fine, right? I hope he didn’t try to tell you he was dying or anything.”

Alice’s red cheeks turned an even brighter shade of scarlet as she ducked her head.

The doctor’s attention shifted back to Griffin. “I gather you’re feeling better?”

“Much,” Griffin told her. “When can I get out of here?”

Dr. Ortiz glanced down at the tablet in her hand. “Sure you don’t want to stay for dinner?” she asked as she swiped through Griffin’s chart. “I hear we’ve got a nice bland meatloaf and some soggy, unsalted broccoli on the menu tonight.”

“I’ll pass, if that’s all right.” He gave Alice’s wrist a tug, pulling her back down onto the bed beside him.

Dr. Ortiz nodded. “Right. Well, I’m prepared to let you go now, provided you have someone to drive you home and stay with you tonight, just to make sure your symptoms don’t worsen.”

“I’ll do it,” Alice said. Her eyes met Griffin’s uncertainly. “If that’s okay with you?”

His heart was so full, all he could do was nod and smile dumbly at her in response.

“Perfect,” Dr. Ortiz said. “The nurse will be in soon with your discharge instructions. It’s been a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Micklethwaite. Try not to bounce off any more cars.”

“Thanks, Doctor,” Griffin said, already pulling Alice in for another kiss.

She smiled against his lips. “That was embarrassing.”

“I’m sure she’ll recover.”

Alice gave his arm a gentle pinch. “I meant for me.” Her expression clouded. “What if she tells people she saw us?”

“Pretty sure that would be a HIPAA violation. But also, I don’t care. Let her.”

“But you and Kimberleigh—”

“I’m done with that,” he said decisively. “I’ll tell Sabrina tomorrow, so she doesn’t think it’s the brain injury talking, but I’m telling her. That’s over. She can figure out how to handle it with Kimberleigh and the press, but I’m not pretending anymore.”

“You don’t have to do that for me.” Alice looked on the verge of tears again, and his heart nearly broke in two.

“I want to.” His hold on her tightened convulsively. “Alice, I’m so sorry. I didn’t handle things well, but I can do better. If you’ll just give me another—”

She cut him off with a kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck, and his whole body breathed out in relief.

Her forehead pressed against his, their noses rubbing as she laid her hand over his heart. “I didn’t handle it that great either,” she said. “I’ve got some issues I’m still working through. But I love you too much not to try to make this work.”

He felt his face split into a grin as he tangled his fingers in her hair. “Taco’s gonna be so fucking glad to see you.”

As Alice’s laughter filled the sterile coldness of the hospital room, Griffin felt, deep in his bones, for the first time in he couldn’t even remember how long, that everything was going to be just fine.