I frowned. “I don’t have a suit. Well, only the one I wore to Anabelle’s funeral.”
“We’ll find you something you’ll feel comfortable in. If you decide to go, you’ll wow everyone there, you’ll see.”
“Flattery will get you far.” I yawned until my jaw cracked and unlocked a new question. “Waitaminute. How did they let you in here?”
Rowan stiffened and looked at his hand holding mine. “I told the nurses that I’m your fiancé. I had no choice,” he added quickly. “Ethel wasn’t here yet, and I was worried. They made an exception as is, since we’re not married. I’m sorry if that’s weird.”
My grin must have been as loopy as I felt as Rowan relaxed. “You lied to spend time with me. I like it. I wonder how much I can corrupt you until you break.”
Rowan shook his head. “Shh. Sleep now. I’ll stay here and wake you up when Ethel comes over.”
“Okay.” I let my eyes drift shut and my body relax into the hard mattress.
Author’s notes:
Hurt Milo brings all protective instincts out in Rowan. Also, he’s so SOFT (and fluffy).
For those who asked in the comments: I did not lose my job! YAY But several of my friends did, which sucks donkey balls so hard. Seriously, fuck AI.
Rowan
“I can walk!” Milo rolled his eyes.
I made the saddest face I could muster and reached out for Milo sitting in the passenger seat of my car. “But will you let me carry you, anyway?”
He wiggled his bum. “You’re lucky I like when you carry me around.”
“Just don’t get into accidents over it. I’m happy to do it for no reason whatsoever.” I hoisted him into a bridal hold, kicked the door behind him closed and took the steps into his house.
He dug into the bundle of clothes on his lap and fished out his key. I had to squat with him in my arms for him to reach the lock.
“Still glad you decided to be a hero?” He gave me a smug look.
“Yup.” I straightened up without a grunt. The weight of him was nothing if I felt him safe against my chest.
The house was lived in, with lots of knick-knacks on every flat surface in the living room we entered. It was clean, but cluttered with mementos and picture frames on the vintage wooden furniture that had been well taken care of. The bookshelf was filled from floor to ceiling with stories varying from intellectual non-fiction, cookbooks, to romance, all chaotically packed in random order.
“Drop me on the couch there, please.” Milo kissed my cheek. “Or you know what? Straight to the bathroom with my hospital-stinking ass.”
I pivoted from the living room to the white door he pointed at. “You don’t stink.”
“Really?”
“Okay, maybe a little bit of disinfectant and drugs.” I walked through a clean, modern bedroom with a king-size bed with an insane amount of cushions to a bathroom that was small but newly renovated with a bathtub by the wall and sandy tiles all around. This part of the house contrasted with the nineties-style of the rest. I set Milo on his feet but kept a steadying hold on his arm.
He wobbled and grabbed the sink. “Ugh. I need to pee.”
“I can hold you steady and close my eyes to give you privacy.” What if he fell? Hit his head? “I’ll whistle too.”
Milo snorted and patted my arm. “I’ll sit.” He parted his hospital gown and plopped onto the open toilet. “You can go.”
“Will you let me know when you’re done so I can come back? Do you need me to get anything? Clothes? I’m assuming we walked through your bedroom. Unless you don’t want me touching your things. I can bring snacks? I mean, if you have any in the house. We should have stopped at a store on the way. I’ll order something.”
Milo buried his face in his hands.
“Milo?” I knelt in front of him. On the tiles. Next to the toilet. “Are you okay? Does anything hurt?”
He sniffled, lifted his head, and looked at me with red-rimmed eyes. “I’m fine, just over-reacting. You can stay here if you don’t mind me peeing.”
