Page 61 of The Truth of Loving You

“His boyfriend.” I maintained the lie I’d told at the front desk.

“Great, there will be a list of dos and don’ts on the discharge paperwork, but the most important is keeping his ankle raised and he’ll need to stay off it for five days,” the nurse said.

“Will he be okay?”

“I think his anxiety made the pain worse, and we had a lively discussion about addictive meds and drug interactions. He finally allowed me to do my job.” She gave Shane a good-natured pat on the arm. “He’ll be loopy for the next couple hours, and the drug might cause some amnesia as well, but other than that, it’s your standard ankle break.” She turned to Shane. “You are extremely lucky you don’t need surgery.”

Shane’s arm flew up like he was answering a question in class. “I’m a dumbass.” He flexed his index finger in and out, pointing to himself. “Dumbass.”

“I’ve seen much worse,” the nurse assured him. “I’m going to get the doctor to set your bone right.” She disappeared behind the curtain.

Moving to Shane’s side with his good leg, I scrubbed my hand over my face. The relief almost brought me to my knees. Shane was fine. He was going to be fine. “What happened?”

“A breakdown in motorcycle etiquette.” Shane cackled, slapping his leg with the broken ankle and moaning. “I’m full of bad ideas tonight.”

“He was on a fucking motorcycle.” I rounded on Alec, thankful that I was on the other side of Shane’s bed because, otherwise, I’d fucking kill my best friend.

“It was an accident. We didn’t crash or hit anything. It was a freak thing,” Alec said, as if my anger was unjustified. “He tried to put his foot down when we rounded a corner.”

“Freak things get people killed!” I yelled.

The silence in the room was more than the absence of sound; it was so heavy, everyone felt its weight, unable to get out from under it.

Shane’s heart monitor intermittently boomed into the oppressive quiet.

He slowly raised his hand again. “I’m not Paxton. I’m not dead.”

I gripped his face in my hands. “Not once when I heard you were in the hospital did I think about Paxton. Not once on the way over here did I think about him, and I’m sure as hell not thinking about him now. I’m only thinking about you. I was in a full-blown panic that something had happened toyou,Shane Reynolds.”

“Oh my god, you smell so good,” Shane moaned, turning his face into me. “The world should smell like you, it’s so good. Wait. Nope. If it smelled like you, then it would kill me with missing you.” Shane’s eyes rolled back into his head, and he licked his lips.

“I got it. The world should smell like Sara’s mahogany teakwood candles. Then, the world would be a better place. So nice. Oh.” His eyes popped open. “Alec. Madyson. Tell Cole about the soul thingy. The bullshit thingy.” Shane closed his eyes again, and I raised a less murderous brow at Alec.

“I’m going to call Jayce to see if he got the gallery closed and what time he’ll be here.” Madyson stepped out of the room as if she didn’t want to be a part of the soul thingy.

I focused on Alec. “Madyson thinks your souls are meant for each other,” he said, and Shane’s hand flipped around in a motion that told him to continue. “And the two of you apart is bullshit.”

Shane let out an annoyed grunt.

“You’re the only one who needs convincing, Pretty Boy.” I kissed the top of his head as the nurse returned with the doctor.

“Okay, party time is over.” She flung the curtain to shut out Alec. “I recommend you step to the other side of the curtain until we’re done.”

Shane gripped my wrists where my hands had slid down to either side of his neck. “I never wanted you to leave. I forgot everybody leaves.”

“I can’t leave him.” My eyes implored the nurse.

She clucked her tongue but nodded in agreement. “Stay right there, don’t move, and don’t watch. There might be some popping or other noise, and you don’t want to see it. Got it?” She had a glare that the only proper response was to nod in agreement.

“I got you, Shane. I’m not going anywhere,” I whispered like a prayer.

Chapter thirty-four

Cole

IcarriedShaneupthe flight of stairs to my loft. He was still loopy and cuddly.

The nurse said he probably wouldn’t remember much of what happened at the hospital.

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