Skye’s gone for work by the time I finally open my eyes. She insisted on spending the night even though she would have to run home in the morning to change. I know she was probably worried I’d forget to take my meds again, and I promised her I’d set alarms on my phone. But that did nothing to dissuade her from staying.
It’s not that I didn’t want her here. I wanted nothing more than to wrap her in my arms and sink my dick deep inside her. It was the fact she insisted on sleeping in the guest room that annoyed me.
Nothing would have happened. There’s no way in hell I would physically be able to have sex with her, not with the drugs muting my senses and my injuries still throbbing despite the narcotics. But she was worried she might roll over and hurt me, or that I might instinctively move toward her and do the same.
So, I slept alone, with the woman I love, who I just fucking told I love, asleep in the guest bedroom down the hall instead of next to me.
Which really fucking sucked.
The note on the counter in the bathroom tells me I’m not to attempt taking a shower until she gets back.
Shit.
All I want to do is stand under scalding hot water for hours. No matter how many sponge baths they give you in the hospital, there is nothing even close to resembling the feeling of being clean after a long, hot shower. I must smell like shit; I certainly look it.
The swelling on my face is gone, but the bruises have reached that lovely yellow and brown phase, making it appear like I went ten rounds with Tyson. I’m not even going to attempt getting my shirt off by myself, so examining the clusterfuck of my torso will have to wait.
My phone alarm goes off on the nightstand, and I move from the bathroom to grab it, silencing it as quickly as I can before I slide it into the pocket of my shorts. Loud, high pitched noises are not good when you’re recovering from a severe concussion. I take my pills and slowly make my way out to the couch. I could have stayed in bed all day watching TV, but sitting on the couch doing it makes me feel a lot less like an invalid.
Sweet.
A Naked and Afraid marathon is on. My chest tightens remembering the last time I watched it with Savage. We always get off on making fun of the idiots on this show who think they are tough as nails but are crying like little fucking babies by day two. They think this shit is hard? Try having the hose turned on you while naked in the middle of October, or being forced to stay awake for thirty-six hours straight while under interrogation from a three-hundred-pound man who’s repeatedly decking you. They wouldn’t last five minutes in the SERE training I went through.
I’m just settling in for the episode when there’s a knock at the door. That’s odd. No one can get up here without the code or the doorman calling up. And anyone who has the code would just walk in like they always do.
Getting up to open the door sounds like climbing Everest right now.
“Who is it?”
A long silence greets me, and I start to get the prickly uneasy feeling that always came before an ambush.
“It’s me.”
Savage.
What the fuck is he doing here?
“Come in.” I feel like maybe I should be concerned for my own safety given his anger and my weakened state, but I’m too tired. If he wants to add to the contusions and broken shit on my body, I’ll let him. Maybe it would end this bullshit.
The door opens and he enters without a word. He sits there staring at me from across the room, and I’m not sure if I’m supposed to be saying something. So, I wait. And wait. The air in the room thickens uncomfortably with the tension between us.
Finally, he moves over to the windows and focuses out at the water. “I saw Skye leaving early this morning when I was on my way to the gym.”
Oh, shit.
It’s not like we can hide it from him, nor do we want to, but from his perspective, that was probably a slap in the face.
“Uh, yeah, she had to go to work.”
Even from across the room, I see his shoulders tense. I brace myself for his next question. “So, are you two officially together now?”
I should have seen it coming. He was bound to come confront me about it sooner or later. When I first told him, there had been the worry about Skye to distract him. In the hospital, I was near death, so he wasn’t going to do it there. Still, his question throws me a little.
How the hell do I answer him without making this worse?
Just tell the truth.
“Yeah, we are. You may not believe me, Savage, but I love her.”
Savage pushes his hands back through his hair and tugs. I know him well enough to know he’s stressing—big time. It’s only a matter of time before he blows, and I don’t want to get hit with the shrapnel.
“I’m not going to hurt her, Savage.”
The sigh he releases doesn’t sound like resignation. It sounds more like he’s gearing up to go twelve rounds. He frees his hands from his hair and turns his chair to face me again.
“You’ve already hurt her.”
Bam. Right hook.
He’s not wrong though. I’ve done nothing but hurt her since the night of the wedding. And yet, she keeps coming back and won’t accept my attempts to push her away.
Savage scowls. “You know what she means to me.”
It isn’t a question; it’s a statement—one that I absolutely understand. Even though there’s only three years between them, the twins were so young when their father died, Savage has always felt more like a father than an older brother to them. When Star died, Savage fought hard to keep Skye on track, but she pushed everyone away then veered into the land of smartass remarks and hostile attitude.
We all knew what she was doing and were helpless to stop it. And being powerless is the one thing Savage cannot handle.
“I do know, Savage. That’s why I fought my feelings for her for so long. I’m not good enough for her. You think I don’t know that?”
That fucking hurt.
Saying the words out loud is so much worse than just thinking them. But it’s time to lay it all out on the line. One hundred percent honesty is the only hope I have of making him understand.
Savage quirks an eyebrow at me. “Is that what you really think?”
“It’s true, isn’t it? That’s why you hate the idea of me being with her so damn much.”
He has the audacity to look offended. “No one is good enough for Skye, Gabe. And yes, if she has to choose someone to be with, I would much prefer it wasn’t someone who goes through women like Kleenex…”
Bam. Left jab.
I think I actually recoiled from that one, but he just keeps going.
“…but…”
Wait, there’s a but?
I hold my breath and wait for him to continue.
“…you are the most loyal, responsible, dedicated, honorable person I know. I never would have made it through the accident and recovery with my sanity without you, let alone kept the business afloat. We wouldn’t have new locations going up if it wasn’t for you. You’ve been behind me through the worst shit of my life, on more than one occasion. Hell, you’re the only reason Dani is even here. I’m going to be a father and that never would have happened if you hadn’t killed Abello’s men…”
He trails off again, but this time, he doesn’t continue. He just stares at me.
In the twenty plus years I’ve known Savage and called him my best friend, he has never left me speechless. But in this moment, I have no fucking clue what I’m supposed to say, or if I’m even supposed to say anything.
I don’t understand what he’s trying to tell me, and I’m not going to risk reading into it too much. If I do that and I’m wrong, I could dig a deeper hole than I’m already in.
His clenched jaw ticks, and I can practically see the cogs spinning in his head.
He finally releases a pent-up breath and runs a hand back through his hair with a chuckle. “I can’t fucking believe I’m going to say this, but if Skye has to be with anyone, I’m glad it’s you.”
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
Did he actually say those words?
Is this a dream?
Am I high from the Percocet and imagining this whole conversation?
There’s no fucking way Savage Hawke just gave me his blessing to be with his baby sister.
“Seriously?” It’s the only thing I can think to ask. He’s just done a complete one-eighty in front of me, and I have no fucking clue why or what happened to bring this on.
He nods and a small smile tilts his lips up. “I can’t believe it either.”
“What made you change your mind? I mean, you were so fucking pissed when I told you and then at the hospital…” I let my words trail off because I don’t even know how to describe what went down there. I only caught bits and pieces of his conversation with Skye, but I heard enough to know he thought I was taking advantage of her and also believed I fucked anything with a hole indiscriminately.
He shrugs and lets out another sigh. “Honestly? Dani set me straight.”
That doesn’t surprise me in the least. That woman is the best thing that ever happened to Savage. She tames the wild beast within him.
“The fact you were willing to be with Skye even though it meant losing your friendship with me showed me you really loved her. If the positions had been reversed, and it had meant choosing between you and Dani, I would have chosen her without question. So, I get it. You have no control over who you fall in love with. Do I wish it wasn’t my baby sister? I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have any reservations, but ultimately, it means my best friend, who has always been a member of the Hawke family as far as I’m concerned, and who I’ve always thought of as a brother, might actually be one legally speaking someday.”
Shit. Brother?
The room spins and I have to drop my head into my hands to stop myself from puking.
Does he actually expect me to propose to Skye?
I hated leaving him this morning. I know he’s a big boy and can take care of himself—when he’s not forgetting to take his medication and passing out in hallways—but I would have loved to stay with him for another day or two to help him get settled.
That was out of the question, though. I’ve already used any vacation time I had left to stay with him at the hospital, and I need to get paid.
Returning to work has been brutal in more ways than I can count. Not only am I worrying about Gabe, I’m also having to dodge answering the same questions over and over again about what went down with Lucas.
Why can’t they just leave it alone?
The dirty looks cast my way and whispered words whenever I pass are really getting on my frayed nerves.
Maybe I shouldn’t blame them for being curious. It isn’t exactly common-place for someone to kill a coworker. I guess we never technically worked together, but we were members of the same small community.
And despite being completely cleared legally, some people are angry, refusing to believe Lucas could have done anything violent enough to warrant me taking his life. I don’t need to explain myself to them. I protected Gabe, and I don’t want to have to look into the teary eyes of one more coworker who is mourning the loss of that psychopath.
So, I’ve spent most of my day hiding in the back office when I’m not seeing patients.
I peer up from the tedious charting I’ve been doing for over an hour at the clock; it’s almost 2:30. I can get away with leaving at 3:00 if nothing urgent comes up.
Gabe’s text from earlier saying we needed to talk about something has left me uneasy. The vagueness of the message isn’t like him and it worries the part of me that still can’t believe he’s a hundred percent on board with us right now. I just want to get out of here.
Please, no more patients.
I scribble a few notes in the chart and toss it on the top of the pile before grabbing another from the next stack.
“Skye?”
Damnit.
Leave it to my boss to thwart my escape plans. “Yes, Dr. Bradley?”
He closes the door behind him and leans against the filing cabinet. His kind eyes narrow on me with concern. “Are you okay? I know today can’t have been very easy for you.”
I don’t know whether to be relieved he isn’t asking me to see another patient or annoyed he’s bringing up the one thing I don’t want to discuss. He’s a great boss: easy-going, understanding, and generous. His question isn’t meant to pry. The concern is genuine, and he doesn’t deserve the attitude I was just about to throw at him.
With a forced smile, I turn fully to face him. “I’m all right.”
There’s no need to offer additional information to my boss if he’s not asking.
He frowns and pushes his hands into the pockets of his lab coat. “I just want you to know that if you need some additional time off or if you need me to prescribe something for you, all you have to do is ask.”
Some people might find it odd to have their boss offering them drugs, but given everything that happened, he’s probably wondering if I need something to help me sleep or for anxiety.
Surprisingly though, I haven’t had any problems with either since I was confident Gabe was going to recover. Even the uncertainness of the situation with Savage isn’t causing me the distress I had imagined it would.
Maybe that’s because I don’t believe it will last, or maybe it’s just because I don’t have the patience to deal with petty shit anymore. Either way, I feel good for the first time in a really fucking long time, and while I appreciate Dr. Bradley’s offer, I don’t need or want to numb my senses now that I’m finally with Gabe.
“I appreciate the offer, but really, I’m good.”
Pushing himself upright, he offers me a half smile and then looks up at the clock. “Feel free to take off when you’re done charting. I’m sure you’re anxious to get back to your boyfriend.”
Boyfriend.
Holy shit!
Gabe Anderson is my boyfriend.
I’ve been so busy worrying about everything that I haven’t taken a moment to appreciate that fact. The man I’ve loved since I was a teenager is officially my boyfriend instead of just the object of my obsession. And fuck, does that feel good.