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I try to raise my hand to pull him closer, but once again, that ache shoots through my arm and chest. The pain is so strong I see white dots flash before my eyes.
I let out a soft whimper, Prescott pulling away almost instantly.
“What?” Panic flashes on his face, his eyes roam over my body. “Are you in pain? I knew I should have called the…”
Sweat coats my skin, my hand shakes slightly on the mattress, but I try to brush it off.
“Damn, when was the last time you showered?” I ask as he grabs the call button, stopping him mid-stride.
“Seriously?”
“What?”
“You’re joking? Right now?”
“Hey, it’s not my problem you stink. I so don’t envy your teammates.”
“How can you joke about this shit when you’re lying in a hospital bed?”
“I don’t see how the two are relevant.” I let out a small chuckle, the motion making pain shoot through me.
No laughing. Got it.
Prescott’s scowl deepens. “Damn it, Jade. You’re in pain. I’m calling the nurse.”
“It’s not that bad,” I try to protest.
I didn’t want anybody else to break this bubble we were wrapped in. Not yet. I could suffer through a little bit of pain.
“The fact that you’re as white as a sheet would disagree. I swear you dri—”
Whatever he wanted to say was interrupted by the opening of the door.
“That was…” my words die on my lips as Nixon enters the room.
He stops in his tracks when he sees me; his lips parted in surprise. “You’re awake.”
“She woke up a little bit ago,” Prescott fills him in. “I just called for the nurse. She’s hurting.”
“She’s awake and can speak for herself,” I protest, trying to push upright, which is a mistake.
The pain must show on my face because both men move into action immediately.
“Dammit, Jade. You shouldn’t move.”
“What’s wrong? Does something hurt?” Nixon asks, placing two coffees on the table in the corner before his tall frame looms over me.
Everything. Everything hurts.
“What hurts is to have you two dumbasses hover over me while I can’t do shit to sit upright,” I mutter. “Can somebody adjust the bed? I don’t want you looming over me like I’m a helpless child.”
Both Nixon and Prescott look at me like I’ve lost it. Maybe I have, but if this is any indication of how the next few weeks will go, I’m already done.
“Hello?”
“Good to see the spunk hasn’t left you, Smalls,” Nixon says, the corner of his mouth lifting in a smile.
“I’ve lost my breasts, not my wit.”
