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“I’ll send a nurse in to do your stitches,” the doctor said as he scanned my chart. “No allergies? No medical history I should know?”
I shook my head. “Can we just get this done so I can get the hell out of here? I’ve been working all night.”
The doctor nodded with a smirk. “It could be thirty minutes, it could be an hour. Friday nights can be pretty damn busy, and we’re full to the brim. You aren’t the only one who needs stitches courtesy of a broken bottle.”
“The difference being I wasn’t drunk and didn’t do it to myself,” I threw back in annoyance.
Sitting here waiting for someone to come stitch me up really wasn’t the ideal way to spend my Saturday morning. I wanted to go back to the club and fucking sleep.
The doctor laughed as he headed for the door as if what I’d said was a joke. I was being fucking serious.
“I’ll get someone to you as soon as possible,” he called back over his shoulder.
I cursed under my breath, looking down at the massive bandage which covered the lower part of my stomach and hip. My jeans were undone and barely covering the parts they needed to cover, and I had no shirt on. The hospital sheets were itchy against my skin and made strange rustling noises like they were made of damn plastic as opposed to cotton or something similar.
I guess, at least, I didn’t have to wear one of those god-awful gowns that covered your front but left your ass hanging out.
Turning to the side, as gently as possible, I pulled the side table drawer open, searching for the remote to the television. I’d just grasped it in my hand when I felt movement in the air, and my body froze.
There was a soft gasp.
My breath caught in my throat, and I dared myself to look but looking would mean that I wasn’t imagining things. It would mean that the smell of her perfume was real, and I could actually hear her breathing, each breath a little longer and stronger than the last.
I’d just managed to gather the balls to look over, but before I could turn and look her in the eye, there was a delicate body thrown across mine. I coughed, the air in my lungs forced out.
I hadn’t seen her face since she walked out of the prison visitor’s room after telling me I was basically the scum of the fucking earth. And since the talk with Leo and Optimus, I knew precisely fucking why she felt that way.
Was I upset and angry? Yeah, I was.
Right now, though, it seemed like none of that mattered, and for a moment, and I fucking bathed in it. Meyah buried her face in the crook of my neck, tucking her arms around my chest and underneath my body.
I was shocked, looking down at her, the tendrils of her hair falling across my chest. My arms came around her, holding her body against mine in a way I’d only fucking dreamed of for over a month since I let her walk away. No, since I forced her out.
And here she was, hugging me tightly in a hospital bed like nothing had even happened.
“Hey,” I murmured, running my hand up and down her back, and trying to ignore the pain which was shooting through my hip. I knew I didn’t deserve the affection she was giving me, but because I was a selfish fucking asshole, I was going to take it anyway. “I’m fine, you know, it’s just a cut,” I told her softly, slightly confused at why she was acting the way she was.
She refused to move, squeezing me tighter when I tried to pull back so I could see her face.
“Meyah, what’s wrong with you?”
I was starting to get worried now, looking around, wondering if I should try and reach my cell phone and call Leo.
“Camo said you were attacked at X-Rated,” she finally muttered, lifting her face just enough for me to see the chocolate brown color of her eyes. It was smooth and creamy and mesmerized me every single time. There was worry in them this time, she was looking at me like I was on my death bed.
I frowned. “Yes and no. It was just a drunk who decided to be an asshole. Your typical night at X-Rated, except this guy decided he was going to fight his way out with a broken bottle.” The look on her face softened, and her eyes grew a little wider. “What are you even doing here? It’s seven in the morning. When did you get home?”
She licked her lips and pulled back. Reluctantly, I let her go, satisfied when she let her hands linger at my waist. “I got stuck in Dallas. My flight was meant to get in last night, but it got delayed. Uncle Leo picked me up at 5:30 a.m. this morning from the airport. We just got to the clubhouse when Camo and Levi showed up.”
“And I bet Leo was really happy about you coming to the hospital to check on me,” I muttered, knowing while her uncle was rooting for us, her family was really missing her a lot and were desperate to have more than a few fleeting moments with her.
She screwed up her nose, wiggling it like a little mouse. “I told him I was going home to see Mom and Denver.”
“Meyah,” I growled disapprovingly.
She took a step backward, a deep frown creasing her perfect brow. I missed the feel of her hands against my body, the warmth, the softness.
“Don’t,” she warned, poking her finger at me. “I’m sorry for being fucking worried about you, okay? I thought you’d really been hurt. I don’t need you to scold me like I’m a child.”
