Page 61 of How to Blow It with a Billionaire

It was, as nights went, shitty. Though obviously worse for Nik. Or maybe not, since he was unconscious, and I was sitting there, painfully awake. He did stir sometimes, and talk to me, but he was living in fragments. The first time, he asked where he was, which scared the shit out of me, especially because when I told him—as gently as I could—that he was in the hospital, he wanted to know why. And I didn’t know how to explain to someone who’d been in a car crash about the car crash they didn’t remember being in. Thankfully, he drifted off again almost immediately and I ran in a panic for the doctor in case it was a traumatic brain injury thing after all. But apparently it was pretty normal.

Next time his eyes opened, he seemed a touch more lucid. “Arden?” He blinked, the motion jerky and slow, as if it wasn’t a reflex for him anymore. “Dude, you look like shit.”

“Dude, you’re pissing into a bag.”

He made a barely there noise of amusement. And then seemed exhausted by it.

“Am I on a lot of drugs?” he whispered, just when I thought he’d slipped away again. “I can’t really feel anything.”

“Um. Yeah. That’s…that’s the drugs.” Oh wow. And the Award for Least Convincing Bedside Consolation Lie goes to Arden St. Ives.

Nik’s throat worked laboriously. “Are you…really here? Not dreaming?”

“I’m here. Promise.” I tightened my fingers over his. They twitched in response. “Can you feel that?”

“Yeah…”

“That’s me.”

“You…you…won’t leave?”

“Only occasionally to wee and I’ll have to check in to my hotel. But I’ll be super quick.”

He mumbled something I didn’t catch and closed his eyes. But he slept more easily. And that was good, right? He needed to rest and stuff.

More than he needed the truth right then.

Chapter 15

By the time dawn filled the room with fresh gray, Nik was still sleeping and I was beyond exhausted. Sodden with it like heavy rain. I dozed off and on through the morning, but by early afternoon one of the nurses had pretty much ordered me out of the hospital, telling me I’d be useless if I didn’t get some proper rest.

Not sure where the hotel was, or even if I was capable of walking, I got the limo back. And discovered the place was literally just up the road. Except I was too knackered to be embarrassed. I crawled out of the car and wove my way to the front desk. Signed things and received my keycard and some other shit in a blur of words I barely understood.

Lift.

Corridor.

Room.

Bed. Face.

I groped for my second phone. Hit the shortcut for Caspian with a barely functional finger.

He picked up immediately. “Are you all right?”

“I’m sorry,” I slurred, “I dunno wha time it is.”

I heard him murmuring, “I’m sorry, I have to take this,” and then, to me, “It doesn’t matter. How’s your friend?”

“Kind of fucked, but alive and breathing. That’s…that’s good, right?”

“Very promising.”

I wasn’t capable of much movement, but I managed to fold part of the duvet over me with some determined feet flapping. “I’m really glad I’m here. Thank you for helping me.”

“It’s nothing.”

“I’m too tired to argue, but it’s not nothing. It only seems that way to you because you’re used to being able to do stuff like this.”

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