Page 156 of It Happened on a Sunday
“For life?” I’m beginning to sound like a parrot, but did my boyfriend just say he planned on being with me for life? Can oxycodone affect hearing? Reasoning? Am I hallucinating? Or are we really in this?
The fact that that doesn’t seem like the worst idea tells me just how hard I’ve fallen for Sly.
“For life,” he says again, even more adamantly.
“I’m going to get Bryan.” Marco starts for the door.
“Bryan?” Just the mention of my publicist has me sitting up straight as I try to clear the last cobwebs from my brain. “Just how many people know I’m in here?”
Chapter 68
Sloane
The doctor walks in before either of them can answer.
“Ms. Walker, I’m Dr. Bhargava. It’s good to see you awake.”
“It’s good to be awake. Am I okay?” I ask because everyone is still looking so serious.
“Is she okay?” Sly demands at the exact same time. One look at him tells me he’s not just scared. He’sshattered.
I reach out a hand to him, shocked at how cold his fingers feel against my own, considering he’s usually the warm one in this pairing. Then again, if Sly had nearly died in front of me, I’d probably be a frozen lump on the floor, myself.
The doctor takes his time examining me, which doesn’t stress me out at all. Especially since I’mone, dying to talk to Sly alone for a few minutes andtwo, desperate to find out what the PR situation is. People already think I’m bad news. I can only imagine what a drug overdose is going to do to my mud-spattered reputation.
After what has to be the longest examination on record—yes, I know what year it is and the name of my latest album, thank you very much—the doctor says he’s going to order a few more tests. If they come back clear, I can go home tomorrow. And by home, I mean Chicago, for my next tour date.
It’s not quite the news I wanted—I’m ready to leave rightnow—but they did promise me I could eat before they draw blood or snap any more pics of my brain, so I’ll take the win where I can get it.
By the time the doctor leaves, Bryan’s at the door, his trusty tablet in hand.
“How bad is it?” I ask.
“Not bad at all,” he answers right before he does something that shocks the hell out of both of us. He throws himself at the bed and gives me a giant hug.
“Don’t ever scare me like that again!” he says in a voice that sounds surprisingly thick.
“Are you crying?” I ask, half touched and half horrified.
“These are tears of relief,” he shoots back, grabbing a tissue to dab under his eyes. “I was afraid you’d die and I’d have to break in a new celebrity.”
“Oh, please.” I snort. “Like anyone else would have you.”
In response, he holds up his tablet and takes a picture of me, shutter effect on full volume. “Be nice or I’ll put this on the internet.”
His words have me breathing a huge sigh of relief. At least one person is back to normal. Sly, on the other hand, is still looking like I might evacuate this mortal coil at any second. “Tell me the truth. How bad is it?”
“In the hands of a lesser PR guy…” he says, trailing off to build anticipation. Unfortunately for him, my patience is already in the negative.
“Bryan—”
He grins. “It still wouldn’t be the end of the world. In my hands, it’s fucking amazing. And that’s before the press conference set to take place in a couple of hours.”
“We’re having a press conference?” Now I’m kind of wishing for the tears back. “I’m in a fucking hospital gown, Bryan.”
“Believe me, I have absolutely no plans to trot a bunch of reporters up to your room.” He mock-shudders at just the suggestion. “The Austin police department, however—with the help of your security team and the FBI—have uncovered enough evidence against little Ms. Skull and Crossbones to put her away for quite some time. They’re going to charge her with attemptedmurder, assault, stalking, and who knows what else.”
“Stalking?” I turn to Sly, who is growing more still with each word Bryan speaks.
