Page 93 of Austin

“About that.” He raises a dark brow. “I’ve been looking over your financials and productivity reports, and”—he pauses, as if the sentence he is about to say is the most painful thing ever—“you’re doing a really great job.”

“Wow. A compliment from the great and powerful Bryce Sexton? I never thought I’d see the day.” I’m grinning despite the splitting headache that is forming in between my eyes.

My head might be killing me, but Bryce’s heart looks like it’s aching worse. I know he’s worried about me, but for a guy who went to Tahoe for a romantic getaway, he doesn’t look like he’s riding on a blissful high.

“So, um, in all seriousness … are you gonna tell me about the girl?” I ask tentatively.

His chest rises as he shakes his head.

“Didn’t go so well?” I assume.

His brows crease into a deep V as he looks at the white sheets of my bed and stares off into space. “I fucked it up.”

Bryce and I never talk about relationships. He had one long-term girlfriend in college, and since they broke up, I’ve only known him to be with a few assistants, although I always assumed there were other women. I just happened to enjoy harping on the assistants. But to have him take someone away with him the way he did and now sit here like he fears he lost her, this is … new.

“Do you love her?”

He quickly looks up at my question. He doesn’t answer, but from his sudden jerk, I know it’s a yes.

“Run to her, bro. If there’s a girl out there who is worthy of making you want to change your life for the good, then go to her. Get her back. Stand outside her door for days until she answers. Fall to your knees and beg for forgiveness. Life’s too short to let love pass you by. Don’t let your fears hold you back from having it all. That’s not what Mom would have wanted for you.”

He opens his mouth, as if to say something and then closes it. “It’s complicated.”

“So is running a billion-dollar business.”

He laughs and then sits back in the chair as my eyes start to grow heavy again. Damn, I can’t seem to stay awake longer than ten minutes at a time.

“You mind if I sit here with you for a while?” he asks.

“Of course. Just make sure, when I open my eyes again, it’s to a hot female. Preferably of the hazel-eyed, peach-smelling variety.”

23

JALYNN

I slept for three hours and woke up in a panic. Eva was quick to pat my back and tell me Austin was okay. He was moved to a private room, and his brother just left. When I berated her for letting me sleep, she assured me that I looked like a madwoman in need of a nap, and everyone, including Gregg, who was sitting next to us, agreed.

“Have you seen him?” I ask Gregg.

“No. I passed out, too. Do you mind if I go in with you?”

“Not at all.”

We rise, and Eva stands, too, opening a package of makeup-removing wipes from her purse and fixing the makeup that is smeared all over my eyes. I pull my hair up in a scrunchie and follow Gregg through the hallways. When we get to Austin’s room, 423A, I see the patient sign on the door. It’s for A. Powers.

Austin Powers. Clever.

We enter the room, and my knees buckle at the sight of him. The white bandage covering most of his face and head takes away my breath and makes my stomach flip upside down. I walk up to the bed and lean over him.

“I’m here, baby,” I whisper. “I won’t leave your side.” I rest my head on his arm, closing my eyes, wishing I could say the words dying to come out, but my mind and brain aren’t communicating properly.

Gregg stands at the end of the bed, staring at his friend, his expression completely blank. We sit in silence, praying for Austin to move, talk, anything.

Time seems to stand still with the only sound around us being the beep of his machine.

That damn beep.

I keep imagining it changing, speeding up or slowing down. If it flatlined, I might just die right along with it. My nerves are completely shot, and I’m having trouble with just breathing.