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“Not you?”
“Not me. Not me at all.” She puts her arms around my neck and gathers me close. I let her, limp and blinking, dazed. “I’m fine. I promise.”
“You’re fine.” I have to repeat the words until they sink in. Could it be true? “You’re not sick.”
“I’m not leaving you. Not going anywhere,” she whispers against my neck, her weight sweet against my chest. She curls up next to me. “I love you, Zane Madden.”
She does?
Warmth spills in my chest, flowing into my limbs. My heart beats in my throat, in my wrists, everywhere, faster and faster.
It takes me a while, but I finally manage to reach up and put my arms around her, holding her close. I feel like I’m about to shatter and yet stronger than ever before. I feel grounded and yet light as if I’m floating.
I feel hope for the first time.
I’ll be okay. The doctors say there doesn’t seem to be any damage to my brain or organs, something they were afraid might happen. Yeah, so my body’s still messed up, heavy and cold, and my pulse is still a bit too fast—but I’m much better.
That was a close call, the doctors say, prodding and talking, until I say I understand and that it won’t happen again.
And I mean it. No more drinking for me.
I’ve pulled through. And Dakota is not dying. That’s all that matters. She says she’s not leaving my side until I’m out of the woods.
Well, today I’m being discharged from the hospital, so I guess that means I’m officially out of the woods and going home.
As I’m rolled out in a wheelchair, still dizzy for having been flat on my back for almost two weeks, I hear a cacophony of cheering and shouts. A crowd of people are waiting outside, and as my vision clears, I recognize them. Ash, Rafe, Erin, Tessa, Dylan, Tyler, Audrey. The Damage Boyz.
My eyes sting, but I grin for them and wave like a goddamn king. They break into more cheers and dancing, until the nurses recover from their shock and tell them firmly they need to shut up and get out.
Fuckers. I chuckle to myself as I’m led out into the parking lot. It’s so… normal, hearing them cursing and talking as they follow. So good. They’re my family.
Family. I think of Emma, and my grin vanishes as the pain of her death strikes me again. I suppose, with time, thinking of her will get easier. It won’t feel like a knife twisting in my gut.
I’m thankful for Dakota’s small, low car as I’m lifted out of the wheelchair by a strong male nurse and Tyler, who steps in before I faceplant on the parking lot concrete. Can’t imagine climbing up into my truck right now.
Who knew just a few days spent in a coma can fuck you up like that? Even though I’m reassured my body and brain are catching up just fine, my head swims and my muscles tremble just from the effort of getting into the car. I’m tucked and buckled in like a damn kid, and when my eyes clear again, I see Erin and Tyler cram themselves in the backseat of the car.
I lift a brow at them through the rearview mirror. “Your car broke down?”
Erin swats my shoulder. “We’re going home with you. The others are coming, too.”
“Didn’t know we were all moving in together,” I drawl. “Sounds like fun.”
“Shut up, silly.” Erin laughs. “We just want to see you settled in. You need someone to look after you.”
I want to tell them I’m not an invalid, when Dakota slides behind the wheel and buckles herself in.
“He already has a roommate,” she says, and winks at me. “I passed the test, didn’t I?”
“Test?” Erin frowns. “Honestly, Zane, you test your roommates now?”
I drink in Dakota’s bright eyes, her smile. “No need to,” I say. “She’s not my roommate. She’s my girl.”
Tyler whistles from the back seat. Erin whoops.
Dakota laughs softly, her cheeks flushing. Her breasts rise and fall with each breath, stretching the soft material of her white blouse. She’s here, perfectly fine, perfectly beautiful and so sexy.
Fuck, the things I wanna do to her… As soon as I sort out this small issue of being able to stand upright on my own.
