CHAPTER TWENTY
Quiet.
No alarms.
No popping gunfire.
No computers humming in the background.
Just the soft whisper of someone breathing, and the heavy silence that accompanied closure.
Sloane focused on the ceiling, studied the swirling pattern for a few moments while her memories slotted into place — the nurse trying to kill them. Hill’s team hunting them through the wing. Nick risking it all to save her life.
The images were fuzzy, like a photo that was out of focus, but she remembered the main parts.
Remembered Nick.
He’d faced Hill — been willing to die to keep her safe. And she knew she’d never look at him without seeing the love shining in his eyes when he’d turned to her, mouthed that he loved her.
She took a soothing breath, wincing as the simple motion pulled on her stitches. She remembered that, too. How Nick had stood there, all but threatening the doctor if he so much as made her twitch.
Pain teased her senses as she shifted on the bed, staring off to her right. Nick sat in the chair, head lolled off to one side, eyes closed. He looked older, with a weight about him that spoke of unending worry and stress. Not for himself.
For her.
She rolled toward him, and he woke, his predatory instinct still firing on a hair trigger. He bolted upright, searching the corners of the room before focusing on her.
Her breath lodged tight in her chest as they stared at each other, his heart practically beating on his sleeve. He smiled, leaned forward and hers stopped. Just froze inside her chest as heat bubbled beneath her skin, a warm feeling settling in her gut.
Nick reached for her, tucking some hair behind her ear. “You’re back.”
She smiled. “You were the one who kept telling me to sleep.”
He stared at her, no filters, just raw, terrifying relief washing over his expression. “Had to. You looked like death.”
“Wow, were you always this charming?”
That earned her a chuckle that warmed her down to her toes. “Part of the reason you love me, sweetheart.”
Sloane stilled as one word hung in the air. The preverbal elephant in the room she wanted to quash. “I suppose it is.”
Nick inhaled, his cocky bravado falling around him like glass. “You do realize you just implied that you love me.”
She nodded. “I do. Realize,” she added. “Though, I do love you, too.”
The truth sounded loud in the quiet room, the words echoing over and over until she thought she’d fade from the added weight, when Nick grinned, leaned in and kissed her.
Not a no-holds-barred kiss, but not gentle, either. A mix of love and lust that kicked her pulse into triple digits, had her wishing on a future she’d never allowed herself to picture.
He rested his forehead on hers. “Say it again.”
She smiled, lifted one hand and slid it behind his neck, anchoring them together. “I love you, Nick.”
“Hell yeah, you do.” Another kiss. Softer. As if he thought she might break. “And I love you more, Sloane.”
“It’s not a competition, baby.”
He laughed. “Everything’s a competition, sweetheart. You just don’t notice because you’re usually winning.”
