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The waiting room was quiet with only a few others silently waiting for news about their loved ones. All of them had eyes filled with worry, including Sylvia’s friends. Her friend, Talya, showed up five minutes earlier with Yuri, and, for once, Bea had allowed Zane close and snuggled into his side, her hand swallowed up in his larger one. Eric was the only one without comfort because his woman was the one being treated.
“Who is waiting for news on Sylvia Taylor?” a female voice asked.
Eric’s head shot up; he met the doctor’s eyes, and froze. His body felt as though it was laden down with lead, and then she smiled.
He got his ass in gear and walked over to her along with the others, and waited.
“Is any of her family present?” The doctor queried, a frown marred her brow when she realized there wasn’t. Her gaze landed on Eric when the others stared at him. “She’s your girlfriend?”
He nodded, “Yes,” even though it was stretching the truth slightly. The need to be with her was so strong that he would have stretched the truth further if it meant he’d be in her room soon.
The doctor nodded. “Sylvia has a concussion due to the lump she sustained when she hit the floor. There’s some bruising on the left side of her shoulder blade, which probably looks worse than it is. X-rays came back clear. She’s upset at the thought of staying in over night, but unless there’s someone willing to monitor her for twenty four hours, I can’t release her.”
“We live together and I’ll be there,” Talya offered, and it didn’t go unnoticed that Yuri had his arm around her waist as he kept her in the shelter of his body.
“Let me talk to her. If she will, I want her to come home with me,” Eric said. He glanced at Talya. “I want to look after her.”
She offered him a small smile and nodded.
“When can I see her?”
“You can follow me back there.” The doctor paused. “One at a time.”
She walked off and Eric followed without a second thought because he was so much closer to seeing Sylvia, and then, there she was.
The hospital room was as sterile as the rest of the place, and Sylvia, with her blonde hair splayed out around her, looked lost and so damn alone.
When her eyes landed on him, the joy she obviously felt at seeing him was clear with the way her eyes lit up. That was all he needed to get his feet moving.
“Hey.” Eric leaned over and kissed her brow while trailing his thumb over her cheekbone. “How are you feeling?” He dropped his ass to the chair beside the bed before he climbed on the bed with Sylvia. She looked fragile and the urge to hold her close to take the pain away from her filled him.
He settled on holding her hand, but the sight of a lone tear trickling down her face had him back on his feet and wiping it away. “Hell! I feel so helpless with you right now. I want to take it all away and the feeling is damn alien inside me.”
Sylvia chuckled as another tear fell.
“You’re a big softy at heart.” She grinned.
Eric scowled, and was tempted to scoff at her observation. But the fact was, she was correct. With the people he cared about, he was a different person, and he’d stopped fighting what Sylvia made him feel.
“Not sure I’ve ever been accused of that before.” He placed a light kiss to her sweet lips, and held her gaze when he moved to kiss her nose, each eye, and then back to her lips. She’d become a drug to him, and he constantly wanted another fix.
“Eric,” her voice wobbled, “I want to go home.”
With his thumb he caressed along the seam of her lips, and whispered, “I want you to come home with me. I want to look after you.” He blushed slightly at his confession. Things between them had gotten real, and he was too selfish of an asshole to let anyone else, even her friend, look after her.
“I don’t want to be a burden.”
“Stop right there. You are not a burden. I wouldn’t have offered if I weren’t sure about what I wanted. I need to keep you close to me.” He kissed her nose and smiled. “So that’s sorted.”
Sylvia smiled, and slipped her hand back into his as he sat back in the chair.
“How did you manage to take a tumble,” he asked, and tried to keep his anger from his voice.
He wasn’t angry with Sylvia, at least he didn’t think he was, but he sure as hell was angry at her being on that stage. She hadn’t even told him what she had planned that night, but he hadn’t asked her either.
“It doesn’t matter,” she hedged.
That wouldn’t do. “It does matter. It matters to me, so please talk to me, Sylvia.”
