Page 153 of Captivated

Zeeb swallowed, but it felt as if his throat was filled with gravel. “Nate?” he croaked.

Nate stirred, his breath catching. He blinked groggily, then straightened with a jolt.

“Hey. You’re awake.” His voice cracked with something between relief and exhaustion.

Zeeb stared at him. “What… what’re you doing here?” The question came out slow and hoarse, as if he’d forgotten how to form words.

Nate smiled, lopsided and so stupidly handsome it hurt worse than the bruises.

“I drove up yesterday.” He leaned in, his voice quieter now. “And I’m not going back.”

Zeeb’s world performed another tilt.

“What?”

“My dad and Robert worked it all out between them. I’m moving to Salvation. I’m going to work on the ranch.” And there was that smile again, bringing pure sunshine into the room. “It’s all set.”

This is a dream.Except the spike of emotion felt too real. Hope flared so suddenly it made him unable to catch his breath.

“You’re staying?” Zeeb whispered.

“For as long as Robert can put up with me.” He bit his lip. “And you, of course.”

Zeeb’s throat tightened, not from injury this time, but from the weight of something he hadn’t let himself want too much.

Couldn’tlet himself want.

Then another memory speared into him, acute and intense.

“Toby…”

Nate’s face contorted. “He came off worse than you did. He’s in ICU. The doc thinks he’s going to pull through, but it’ll take a while.”

Zeeb tried to move, but everything hurt like a son of a bitch. “I need to see him.” Fuck, his shoulder was on fire, and the ferocity of it robbed him of breath.

Nate frowned. “You are going nowhere.” He gazed at Zeeb with obvious concern. “Are you in pain? I’ll go fetch the nurse.”

“In a sec.” He wanted to yellDon’t go, but he had a feeling even yelling would hurt. He shifted, wincing. “God, I probably look like roadkill.”

“You look…” Nate leaned closer still, studying Zeeb’s face with something that appeared a lot like quiet reverence. “Like someone I was scared I’d never get to see again.”

That did it.

The lump in Zeeb’s throat broke him. He managed a weak laugh, and then the next breath shuddered through him. “Idiot. Can’t get rid of methateasily.”

Nate’s soft smile lit him up on the inside. “Yeah. I know.”

Zeeb tilted his face up slightly. The movement pulled, but he didn’t care. He knew what he wanted, but there was no way he’d ask for it.

Nate’s breath hitched. “There’s something I should say.”

“You don’t have to say a goddamn thing,” Zeeb croaked.

“But Iwantto,” Nate insisted. He sucked in a breath and looked Zeeb in the eye. “I’m not good at this. People. Talking. Feeling things I’m not supposed to feel. For… for someone.”

Holy fuck.

Zeeb stared at him, his breathing labored, unable to get a single word out.

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