Chapter 465: Lisa: Taking Care of Him

"Is it too fluffed? I can flatten it a bit." I punch at Kellan’s pillow again, trying to get it just right. "Sorry, I’m not used to hospital pillows. They’re always either too flat or too lumpy."

His eyes follow me as I circle the bed, adjusting his blanket for the fifth time in twenty minutes. I separate the orange slices I’ve peeled into perfect little crescents, arranging them on the napkin like a sunburst. He hasn’t even touched the first one I sat out fifteen minutes ago.

"Here, you should eat something," I say, pushing the tray closer. "Unless you don’t like oranges? I can find something else. Maybe the cafeteria has—"

"Are you okay, or are you trying to smother me with kindness?" Kellan asks, his voice completely flat.

I blink at him, frozen mid-orange adjustment. "You saved my life. Am I not allowed to be a little doting?"

Kellan narrows his eyes. "You don’t dote. You sass. I’m concerned."

My cheeks heat. Caught. I’ve never been good at this whole caretaking thing. I’m all sharp edges and attitude. But seeing him lying there, bandaged and bruised because of me has twisted something in my chest. The weird compulsion I felt earlier has faded, but the guilt lingers.

Besides, the thought of returning to an empty room with nothing but my nightmares feels unbearable. I’d rather stay here and make a complete fool of myself trying to show Kellan how much he means to me.

As you can see, it’s not going very well.

"I sass people I don’t care about," I say, too brightly. "You clearly need a gentler approach."

"Uh-huh." He doesn’t look convinced. "What did Dr. Beaumont give you? Did you get into my pain meds?"

I roll my eyes. "Shut up and drink your water."

There. Now I sound more normal, right?

I reach across him for the water cup on the nightstand, but my balance is off—whether from exhaustion or lingering adrenaline, I can’t tell. My hand misses the cup entirely and I pitch forward like an idiot, falling across his body with a soft "oof."

pain flashing across his face. Before I can scramble away, his arms wrap

hurt?" I

as you moving would," he murmurs, his face buried in

his heartbeat against mine, steady

seconds tick by, I become aware of something else—the subtle but unmistakable

this is ridiculous. He’s injured. He’s

But I’m not.

how it would change things. And here he is, bandaged and bruised

Over me.

this kind of pain, but he seems to

to ever happen to

him over Ava. Mostly because she has Lucas and

He only has me.

me? I only have

Ava. And I guess he has Lucas, too. But it doesn’t sound nearly as romantic when I start

with me, you

hurts to hold it in, like it’s been trapped behind his teeth for hours. The two syllables elongate

me with such intensity, heat pools low in my belly. It’s a familiar feeling. One I normally welcome with

whole life up—at least, that’s my motto. Or belief. Or

Would do it again with Kellan in a

But he’s injured.

normal sex is

doesn’t mean there

past a strange wall of embarrassment and say, "Do you want me to

blinks, surprise flickering across his face. There’s hesitation there too, like he’s afraid to

already see it in the way he glances

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