Tangled in Moonlight: Unshifted (Ava and Lucas)

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."

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

didn’t mean—wait, are you—does it hurt?"

you moving would," he murmurs, his face

can feel his heartbeat against mine, steady but quick.

seconds tick by, I become aware of something else—the subtle but unmistakable hardness pressing against my thigh. My heart pounds so loud I swear he

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

But I’m not.

in would mean, how it would change

Over me.

of pain, but

the best thing to ever happen

has Lucas and Selene and Grimoire to help her keep

He only has me.

I

too. But it doesn’t sound nearly as romantic when I

pretend with

trapped behind his teeth for hours. The two syllables elongate until it sounds

just enough to meet his eyes. They’re dark, pupils wide, watching me with such intensity, heat pools low in my belly. It’s a familiar feeling. One I normally welcome with

good attitude toward sex opens your whole life up—at least, that’s my motto. Or belief. Or

Not afraid of it. Would do

But he’s injured.

sex is

mean there aren’t other

voice is quiet as I force myself past a strange wall of embarrassment

There’s hesitation there too, like he’s afraid to believe

he glances toward the door, how his lips turn down in