Page 59 of A Match Made In Evan
“They had a bet going,” he answers distractedly, frowning. “You’re in pain,” he fusses, pressing the call button for the nursebefore I can stop him. Then he grasps my hands again and squeezes. "Move in with me."
“I don’t need more pain meds,” I insist. “They make me sleepy. And…what? Move in? Baby…"
“I almost lost you,” he explains, sounding as wrecked as he looks. "I know it's fast, but…this just made me realise how much I need you." He gives me emotional whiplash when he follows that up with, “You do need the meds. Sleep helps your body heal.”
“I’m fine,” I start to push myself into a seated position without the aid of the bed’s remote. I immediately regret it as pain lances through me, and I groan.
Yeah, okay, that was a mistake.
Nevertheless, he's just dropped a pretty huge, life-changing bomb on me and we can't pretend he hasn't. "Jay, baby, I can't move in with you. It's too fast, and you're only asking as a knee-jerk reaction to the accident."
His face falls. "But…"
"I'm not saying never. I'm not even saying not soon. But now isn't a great time to make huge life decisions like that." I pout at him. "And now you've got me having to be the rational one. I don't like it, Jay." I try to sit up again and groan again as I remember why I stopped trying a few moments ago. I hate that I can't hold him and promise him that, even though I'm turning him down, I'm still not going anywhere.
"Stay down," he insists. "You're in pain. The meds will help."
"I don't want meds. We need to talk about this."
Then the arsehole pulls out the big guns just as the nurse walks in. “Look; accept the pain meds, and when you wake up Mia will be here, too. She’s been worried sick about you. We all have.”
Taking a deep breath, the weight of the situation settles over me. If our situations were reversed, I’d be beside myself, and I'd probably be begging him to never leave my sight again, too.
“I’m sorry for scaring you all.” Not that any of it was actually my fault, mind you. But…I can’t think of anything better to say to express myself right now. Blame the fact that I was hit by a freaking car however many hours ago.
James shakes his head, his grip on my hand tightening. “Don’t apologize. Just focus on your recovery. We need you, Ev.” He swallows again, and his eyes look suspiciously moist. “Ineed you.”
I close my eyes for a moment, letting the exhaustion wash over me. “You’re playing dirty,” I accuse him, but then I sigh. “I need you too, you know. I love you.”
“Always,” James replies, his voice filled with emotion. Then he straightens up and sniffs, levelling a weak glare at me. “But if you ever pull a stunt like yesterday again…”
I manage a small smile at his attempt at levity. “I know. You’ll kill me yourself.”
“And don’t you forget it.”
***
“You owe me fifty bucks, bud,” Dad declares when he and Mum walk into my hospital room.
I’m sitting up this time, propped up by the magical adjustable hospital bed, slowly eating the surprisingly not-too-shabby chicken korma I ordered through the hospital’s room service system.
Yep. You heard me correctly. Room service. In a hospital. And it’s not bland slop. Boy, how times have changed since I broke my arm as a kid.
With my fork halfway to my mouth, I frown at him. “For…parking? That seems a little stinge, Dad, even for you. Need I remind you I got hit by a bus—”
“A car,” James lifts his gaze from his work laptop to correct me.
“Ahugecar,” I embellish, just to stir him, “only yesterday?”
Dad rolls his eyes and looks at my boyfriend. “You sure you want to be stuck with him? You can do better, James.”
“Hey,” I complain, but secretly I’mbuzzinginside.
I’ve introduced my parents to girlfriends over the years, but they’ve never treated any of them like they were part of the family. Maybe because they knew I wasn’t serious about them, or because they didn’t know them well enough (which is on me).
But Jay is already part of the family, and their acceptance of this change in our relationship, while not at all unexpected, makes me incredibly thankful that my parents are such great people.
“Why do I owe you money?” I ask again.
