I do as she asks, wincing when I put my weight on my shoulder. It feels like I sit there forever until she returns, but a glance at the clock shows it’s been barely five minutes.
“I asked at the desk about your fiancée. She’ll be another thirty minutes or so yet.”
“Thank you.”
“I get it. If me and my husband were both brought in together, I wouldn’t give a damn about my injuries. I’d just want to know that he was okay. I can tell you this, though—the second you know she’s okay, you’ll crash, and all the lovely adrenaline that’s making your pain disappear will vanish.”
“Your bedside manner needs a little work.”
“The truth is painful, but you look like a guy that could do without the bullshit. I know your girl is awake and talking, and that’s a good thing. I’d hate for her to come out of this okay only to find her stubborn ass of a man let his injuries kill him.”
“If you hadn’t mentioned a husband, I think I’d have been able to guess.”
She grins as she sits on a stool and wheels herself closer, along with a small tray of instruments.
“Trust me, I have a front-row seat to just how stubborn men can be. I’m going to give you a local, numb the area, and then begin. It doesn’t actually look as bad as I first thought. I think you’ll get away with four, maybe five stitches.”
“Do what you gotta do.”
“I’d like to get you in for your own CT scan, just to rule out any head injuries.”
“I didn’t bang my head. This is from the glass when the window broke.”
“Ah, good to know. Are you injured anywhere else? Don’t lie. I have a built-in bullshit detector.”
I chuckle. “I tweaked my shoulder when the car flipped. It’s not broken.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I was in the presence of a doctor.”
“I’ve had enough broken bones to know the difference.”
She sighs but doesn’t push any further. She hums softly as she cleans up my face, and after checking that the area is numb, she deftly stitches my split eyebrow.
“Alright, you’re done. I’ll have a look and see if I can find a scrub top that will fit you.”
I look down and see the blood soaking my T-shirt and nod. “Thanks. Tilly’s been through enough, I don’t want her to worry about me too.”
“Women’s prerogative. You alpha types think you have the market cornered on protection.” She shakes her head and gets to her feet. I think about Tilly stepping between me and Daniel. And when she squeezed my thigh to keep my temper in check around officer dickface. She’s right. Daniel could have thrown a punch, hitting her in the crossfire, and yet she didn’t hesitate to step in. The same goes for the cop. He could have arrested me, though I know damn fine Tilly wouldn’t have let me go easily. She was just as likely to get herself arrested in the process.
“I’ll bring you the top and then I’ll take you back to the waiting area.” I nod, but she’s already yanking the curtain open and walking off.
I stare at the people milling about, feeling grateful for grouchy nurses and overworked doctors. I couldn’t do what they do. I’d lose my shit at least once a day.
I’m about to get to my feet when a tall blonde peers in. Dressed in leather pants, a matching jacket, and a motorcyclehelmet tucked under her arm, she looks me over before checking her cell phone. “You Aiden?”
I frown. “I know you?”
“Nope. But I know Arlo.”
Now, it’s my turn to check her out. She’s pretty and built like an athlete, but there is an edge of danger to her, not just in how she looks at me but also in how she holds herself.
“How do you know him?” Arlo easily has twenty years on this girl. I’m not bothered by age gaps as long as they’re legal, but I’ve never seen Arlo date a woman who wasn’t close to his age.
“He helped train me to fight when I was young.”
My face must convey the shock I’m feeling. She grins then. “Yeah, I get that a lot. When will boys learn that women are so much more than tits and ass?”
“Trust me, I know that. I’m just surprised because I know how ruthless Arlo used to be before he retired. There were a lot of fighters that wanted him to train them, but he only took a liking to a few.”