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Evan laughs, just one startled bark before shaking his head. “Fucking hell, I guess I should be glad it’s you and not Cap, huh?”
I smirk. “Silver lining?”
That half smile turns to a full smile, and I’m a bit surprised when he steps forward to clap a hand around my back. “You bastard,” he says. “I love you, but you’re a real fuck.”
“Love you too, bud.”
Still in need of some distance from me, Evan sits back down beside his relieved wife, and I head over to the vending machine to grab fresh coffee for all three of us.
By the time I walk back, Evan’s parents are standing in the waiting room, getting the rundown on Maybe from their son.
Bruce turns to look at me, and immediately, he lifts a brow. “What in the fettuccine happened to your face?”
“Just got acquainted with a fist is all,” I reply, and Evan grins before adding, “A minor disagreement.”
Thankfully, before Bruce has time to ask more questions, Dr. Shepard comes through the emergency room doors. He stops right in front of our group, and once brief introductions are made between the Willises and the good doctor, he gives us an update.
“I have good news.”
Relief fills my chest.
“She did great. Her appendix wasn’t ruptured. Just extremely swollen. I removed it without any issues, and she is currently stable and resting in the recovery room.”
Thank God.
I’d let Evan punch me a thousand more times if it meant this was the outcome every time.
Milo
Once Maybe’s family spent some time with her in the recovery room, I told them they could go home and get some rest and that I would stay with her tonight.
Surprisingly, no one refuted my suggestion.
It appears Bruce knows a hell of a lot more than he lets on, and Evan is coming to terms with the whole Maybe and me situation. Well, either that or he wanted to enjoy part of his wedding night outside of the emergency room.
I’m hoping for the former but know it’s most likely the latter.
Baby steps.
Not to mention, it’s still quite possible there isn’t even a situation when it comes to Maybe and me. I mean, prior to her medical ordeal, she was doing everything in her power to keep distance between us.
I can only hope she’ll give me another chance.
That she’ll let me explain what really happened that night and actually listen to what I have to say.
But now isn’t the time to get into all of that.
My girl needs to rest and heal.
Once I grab another fresh cup of coffee from the vending machine, I head back up to the fifth floor, where Maybe has been admitted overnight. A medical-surgical unit that Dr. Shepard assured me would take good care of her.
I step inside her room and find her bed adjusted to a slightly sitting position and her brown eyes open but foggy. She watches lazily as her nurse takes her vitals.
“How are you feeling?” I ask and close the distance between the doorway and her bed.
She moves her unsteady gaze to mine and just kind of looks at me with a half-dazed expression I can’t quite decipher.
Worry starts to set up shop in my stomach, and I look to the nurse.
The gray-haired woman is quick to offer a soft smile. “She’s still a little out of it from the anesthesia, but otherwise is doing just fine. Her vitals are stable, and the four tiny incisions in her abdomen look really good.”
I let out a breath. “Okay, good.”
But Maybe just keeps looking at me, and I tilt my head to the side as I reach out to run my fingers through her now-tangled locks.
“You should try to get some rest,” I say softly, but she shakes her head.
“No sirree, Bob. That is not what I need.” Her voice is a little slurred and sluggish, but mostly, just fucking cute. I bite my lip to fight my grin.
“You don’t want to sleep?”
“Nope.” She slowly shakes her head again. “I want to give you a piece of my mind.”
“Is that right?”
“You betcha.”
“All right,” I respond, and even the nurse hears the amusement in my voice. Her little grin flashed in my direction is proof. “Let me hear it, kid.”
“Welp…” She reaches out to scrub a lazy hand down her face. “I don’t like how things went that night in my bed. I don’t like it one bit.”
“That makes two of us.”
She ignores me completely. “And I didn’t like when I got that job that I wanted and I couldn’t even call you. I definitely didn’t like that.”
I smile. “Ditto, kid.”
“And I pretty much hated that you were with that woman at the wedding. I mean, she’s beautiful…” She pauses and tries to find her words. “She’s sofa-cation…? A vacation…? An education…? Meh. You know what I’m saying. When I saw her, I thought, she looks like the kind of lady he should be with. She’s probably deflowered and knows how to send out sext messages… She probably wears Tuesday underwear on Tuesdays…
