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It’s dead, and after a root around the bag Jodie delivered, I find the charger and plug it into the wall and wait for it to power up.
It starts buzzing almost immediately with messages, emails, and social media notifications.
I have messages from Calli assuring me that help is on the way and to just hold on, that nothing matters other than us both being okay.
There are guilt-filled ones from Brad telling me that he’ll come visit as soon as he can and that he’s sorry. All of it feels totally pointless. If he cared, surely, he’d have ignored that woman’s advances and come to find me instead of allowing me to be dragged out of that place by a raging bull.
I have ones from Joanne letting me know that she’s thinking of me and assuring me that she’s here for anything I need, but that Jodie has told her I’m okay and to give me space, which I appreciate.
I scroll through my socials, more of a distraction than anything else, because the less I think about Nico leaving, the better.
I hate him for what he did. For how he freaked out and almost got both of us killed. But I’m finding it harder than ever to convince myself that that is true.
Admitting defeat, I drop my phone into my lap and rest my head back against the chair, anxiety flooding me as I think about what’s going to happen next.
But before I get too lost in the what-ifs, the door opens and the scent of coffee hits me almost immediately.
My mouth waters and I look over, expecting to find a nurse standing there with a tray, but the image that appears before me is very different.
“You left,” I blurt like an idiot as Nico’s long legs eat up the space between us.
“To get you a decent breakfast.”
My eyes drop from his exhausted and bruised ones in favour of what he’s holding, and I gasp at the box I find.
“B-Betties?” I ask, the memory of ordering a boxful on Friday morning hitting me.
“Your favourite, right? And a skinny caramel latte with an extra shot, because I thought you would probably want the boost.”
My mouth opens and closes as my heart tumbles in my chest.
Damn him for being so sweet.
He drags one of the chairs over before lowering his arse to it and ensuring his knee bumps against mine.
Sparks immediately shoot up my legs from the innocent touch.
Prick.
My eyes shoot to him once more, just in time to catch the smirk that covers his face.
Damn him, he knows exactly the effect he has on me even when I’m actively trying to despise him.
“How do you know I like Betties?” I ask.
“Things might be hazy, but I haven’t forgot everything, thief.” Unlike when he previously accused me of stealing from him, anger doesn’t darken his eyes. Instead, I’m pretty sure there’s pride within them.
“You owed me,” I state. “I’d had the world’s worst hangover because of you and that fucking stunt you pulled in the library.”
“You loved it.” He smirks again as he opens the box and offers me first pick of the pastries hiding inside.
“Why am I not kicking you out?” I mutter to myself.
“Because you know I’ll take these with me. And let’s be honest, you’d be lonely and we both know how much you like looking at my pretty face.”
“Pretty?” I scoff. “Have you looked in a mirror recently?”
His amusement instantly vanishes.
