Page 109 of The Apple Tree

Disturbing.

I cleared my throat. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

Kyle silently gazed at me.

Every. Single. Inch.

I wasdyingto touch him. “I slept in your bed. I hope that was okay. I’ll wash your sheets before you get home. Who wants their sheets smelling like their niece?”

Kyle’s lips twitched.

My nose wrinkled. “And I have a terrible habit of needing to hug something at night, so I hugged one of your pillows. Your whole bed probably smells like my floral perfume and shampoo. Sorry.”

He burned me to the ground with a look. I was so relieved that he would be okay, but I needed to get my greedy hands on him.

“So, no cast?” Anne asked.

“No,” Fred answered for Kyle. “It was an open humerus fracture. They repaired it with a plate and screws. It will stay wrapped and bandaged in the sling while it heals. No cast.”

“You look tired.” Anne said.

“It’s the pain meds,” again, Fred answered for Kyle.

“Have you had breakfast?” Anne narrowed her eyes at Fred.

He shook his head.

“I could use another cup of coffee if you want to go to the cafeteria,” she suggested.

“Okay.”

“Do you want to come with us?” Anne turned, eyeing me.

“I’m uh, good. Thanks.”

“Okay. We won’t be too long. I’m sure you don’t want to spend your day at the hospital.” She smiled while stepping past me to the door.

And then it was just the two of us. We didn’t say a word for a long moment. Maybe he was waiting to make sure they were out the door. I was waiting to find my voice past the lump in my throat.

“Hey, beautiful,” he said. “You can come closer. I won’t break any more than I already have.”

It wasn’t funny, but I smiled as I hesitantly stepped closer to the bed while quickly rubbing my teary eyes. “I was so scared,” I whispered, taking his good hand in mine. “You could have ended up in a wheelchair.”

“But I didn’t.” He pulled my hand to his mouth and pressed his lips to my wrist.

I rested my palm on his stubbly cheek. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Me too,” he whispered against my wrist. “And don’t you dare wash my sheets.”

Again, I laughed despite the tears in my eyes.

“How did you fall out of the tree?”

“Your dad—” He paused. “You don’t know?”

I shook my head, running my fingers through his messy hair.

His eyes drifted shut. “It doesn’t matter,” he whispered.

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