Page 59 of Pucking Curves

“I’m here,” she whispers. “I’m safe. Just be here with me, okay?”

I can’t refuse her anything. Not now, not ever.

I press my lips to the back of her hand, whispering a prayer of gratitude before I pull back, meeting her gaze again.

She looks exhausted, like she hasn’t slept in days. And like she’s in so much damn pain. The bandage across her forehead and the bruise on her cheek are killing me.

“You should sleep, little bird. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Not yet.” Her brows furrow. “I w-want to know why, Archer.”

Fuck.

“I couldn’t let you go, Wren,” I murmur. “Every time you talked about moving back home, I could tell how much you didn’t want to leave. So I just…found a way to make it possible for you to stay. I didn’t think you’d accept the help if you knew, so I asked Micah not to tell you. It was fucked up and wrong, but it was the only way I was allowed to take care of you when you needed it.” I swallow hard. “It was the only way I knew how to keep you from walking out of my life and finding someone Micah would approve of.”

“Archer,” she whispers, her voice soft…sad.

“I know I’m supposed to do the right thing now and say I’ll let you go if it’s what you really want, but I spent the last three hours thinking I lost you, little bird,” I rasp. “My whole goddamn world stopped spinning. It doesn’t work without you at the center of it. It just fucking doesn’t.”

She makes a choked sound, and I realize that she’s crying again. I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. I’m afraid to hope. But I hope anyway. I pray to any god who’ll listen that she gives me a chance to fix things.

“I’m not leaving you, you big idiot,” she cries softly, and if I weren’t already on my knees for her, that’d do it. “I love that you’re obsessed with me. I love that you’re crazy about me. I love knowing that I’m not the only one who felt this way for the last year. I loveyou.”

“Fuck.” I press my forehead to her hand again, drawing a shaking breath. “I love you too, Wren. So fucking much.”

She slides her hand out from beneath me, cupping the back of my head. Her fingers slide through the hair at the nape of my neck. “You can’t keep things from me, though. I shouldn’t find out your secrets from a reporter.”

“I know. I swear, I was going to tell you that night. But you were asleep, so I figured it could wait until I got home. Had I known…” I swallow hard. “I should have told you.”

“Yeah, you should have,” she says quietly, and then she sighs. “You and Micah have to work things out, Archer. I won’t have the two of you fighting because of me. That’s the one thing I never wanted.”

That’s a promise that’s easy to make. “I’ll do whatever I have to do to fix shit with Micah,” I murmur. “Anything except leave you.”

For once…I don’t think he’ll ask for that, though. I think he knows that I’m not going anywhere. Christ, after the last three hours, I think everyone knows exactly how I feel about his little sister. My heart beats for her. My world works because of her. She is my purpose. That won’t ever change.

Chapter Fourteen

Wren

BythetimeI’mwheeled into my room and my nurse has me settled in, I’m so exhausted I can’t think straight. My head pounds like someone is in there playing a dang concert. My entire body hurts. But I’m not ready to sleep yet. I need to see Micah first.

“Can my brother come and see me?” I ask my nurse, Felicity. I want Archer back in here too, but I think I should talk to Micah alone, first. I’m not ready to hear them fighting again.

My heart nearly stopped when I pulled up at the hotel and saw Micah hit Archer. I wanted to cry. Remembering what they said isn’t as easy. It feels like pulling up events from a long time ago versus a few hours ago. But I clearly remember that I wanted to hop right back in the cab and leave.

“Yep.” Felicity smiles at me. “Which one of the hunks in the waiting room is he? I’ll send someone to get him.”

“Brown eyes, glasses.” I sigh. “Probably cranky.”

She chuckles softly as she double checks my IV bag. “Older brothers are always cranky, honey. I’ll go get him.”

“Thanks.” I grimace, shifting around.

“You need more pain medication?”

“Not yet.” I’d rather be lucid for this conversation, and I already feel like I’m thinking through a thick cloud of fog. I hesitate. “Can I have it after I’m finished talking to him?”

“That bad, huh?”

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