Chapter Seventeen
I met Cillian halfway to carve out a sliver of privacy for us within the confines of the small room. “How are you…? I don’t…” I flipped my wrist over to stare blearily at my watch. “And this quickly?”
The twitch of Cillian’s lips said he found my inability to follow a thought through to completion amusing. “You needed me,” he said simply. “So here I am. Was that the wrong thing to do?”
He still wore the suit he’d worn to work that day, and although I knew he would have shaved that morning, enough hours had passed for dark stubble to cover his jaw. Rather than making him look scruffy, it made him look rugged and manly. It was hard to remember a time I’d wanted to kiss him more as I stared at him. Maybe the night when we’d first met, and I’d realized that of all the men he could have gone for, the handsome stranger only had eyes for me.
His eyebrows drew together, and I realized too late the question I hadn’t answered while I’d been gawping at him. “No!” I blurted. “It’s not wrong. It’s not wrong at all. I can’t tell you how pleased I am you’re here. I’m just surprised, that’s all. Especially seeing as you said nothing about coming.”
“Even with calling in a favor and using a friend’s personal jet, I didn’t know how quickly I could get here. I didn’t want to get your hopes up that I’d make it to the hospital.”
“But here you are,” I said with something close to wonder in my voice. Giving myself a mental shake, I reached for him. “Come here.” I might not be able to kiss him without the risk of raising some eyebrows, or even worse someone lodging a complaint about the gay love-in happening right under their noses, but a hug was well within the bounds of reasonable expectations within a hospital setting.
Cillian was warm and so comforting after the night I’d had, our hug continuing for as long as I could draw it out without it looking weird. When we did finally break apart, he was smiling. I drew him back to where I’d been sitting, Elyna looking absurdly pleased at the turn of events for someone I’d only known for a few hours. I introduced Cillian to Elyna and Andre, and then Cillian squeezed himself into the seat next to mine.
“Laurent isn’t out of surgery yet,” I explained to him. “Which, I’m trying not to take as a bad sign.”
Elyna reached over and patted my hand. “It is better the surgeon takes his time rather than rushing.”
“Elyna,” I said, with some fondness, “has been keeping me sane with reassuring comments like that all night.”
“She’s right,” Cillian said. “It doesn’t mean there’s been any complications. He might even be out of surgery, but no one’s found the time to come and tell you yet.”
“Maybe,” I admitted.
The wait went on for another thirty minutes, Cillian’s hand on my knee a warm and reassuring weight. When a nurse entered the room and made a beeline for me, I jumped to my feet. “Laurent?” I questioned. “Is he okay?”
Elyna acted as my interpreter again, the cold edge of panic gradually receding as the nurse told us that Laurent had come through the surgery, and that although the anesthetic meant he wouldn’t wake up anytime soon and his spleen had needed to be removed, he would be absolutely fine.
“Can I see him?” I asked. “Just for a few minutes.”
The nurse frowned. “êtes-vous de la famille?”
I didn’t need an interpreter for that one. “Non… But…” I didn’t get any further, the nurse already shaking her head. “I guess I just go home then,” I said dejectedly. A glance at Cillian revealed an expression I’d only ever seen him wear at work, his jaw set and his eyes narrowed.
“Leave it to me,” he said. “Elyna, could I borrow you for a few minutes? Would that be too much of an imposition?”
“Not at all,” she said, almost falling over herself in her haste to go with him.
He pressed a gentle kiss to my brow. “Wait here! I’ll see what I can do.”
“Cillian, you don’t have to…”
He winked, and then he was gone with Elyna in tow. Andre shrugged as I sat back down, but didn’t comment. They were gone less than five minutes, a triumphant expression on Cillian’s face when they reappeared. He gestured for me to join him as a smiling Elyna returned to her seat. She made an exaggerated fanning motion with her hand. “So persuasive. I almost swooned.”
“He’s in advertising,” I said. “It comes with the job.”
She winked. “But I bet it’s not always delivered with such charm and panache.”
“Probably not,” I admitted. “I think that’s the Irish blood. You know, the kissing the Blarney Stone, and all that.”
“I only got you five minutes,” Cillian said as he led me out of the room and down the corridor. “And only you’re allowed to go in. I need to wait outside.”
“Five minutes is fine,” I said. “I’m beyond grateful. Thank you. I just… need to see him.”
“Bear in mind he won’t look great,” Cillian advised. “Remember, he’s just gotten out of surgery and that he’s had one hell of a shock to the system. Apparently, there’s a lot of bruising and swelling.”
“A bus hit him,” I pointed out. “I’m not expecting him to look great. I just need to see him…” I gave an embarrassed little laugh. “Well… breathing.”
Despite my assurances to Cillian, the first sight of Laurent was like being hit in the chest with a battering ram, and I stood at the edge of the room, reluctant to venture any further. After giving myself a good talking to, I edged closer to the bed. After all, I’d asked for this and Cillian had done everything in his power to get it for me. It would be beyond ungrateful after all the effort he’d put in to turn around and say I’d changed my mind and I’d wait until Laurent regained consciousness.
For a moment, I seriously considered that someone had given Cillian the wrong room information as I stared at the swollen-faced man in the bed, unable to recognize Laurent. It wasn’t until I focused on the hair that I relaxed slightly. The hair was unmistakably Laurent’s. And as I ran my eyes over the parts of him not hidden beneath the white hospital sheet, the small tattoo of a wolf on his right biceps was a giveaway as well.
Laurent was attached to various machines, the heart rate monitor showing the peaks and troughs of his individual heartbeats providing some reassurance. “Hey,” I said, even though I knew my voice wasn’t about to rouse him. “You look like you had a fight with a bus and came off worse.”
I moved to stand right next to the bed, reaching out and laying my hand over Laurent’s, careful to avoid the drip that fed directly into his vein. “They wouldn’t let me in to see you, but Cillian waved his magical persuasion wand and wrangled it. And no, that’s not a euphemism. I’m not talking about that part of his anatomy.”
I frowned at the words I’d just said. “I probably should have started by saying that Cillian jumped on a plane tonight and he’s here. Which is… yeah. You’d probably have a more cynical twist to put on it if you were awake. So…” I gave his hand a squeeze. “Wake up soon, yeah, and then you can tell me Cillian’s true intentions in rushing to Paris.”
The door creaked open, a nurse appearing in the doorway. He didn’t need to say anything for me to know my time was up, and that it was better not to push things. “I have to go,” I said. “But don’t worry about anything. I’ll let work know what’s happened and that you’re going to need some time off.” I grimaced at the realization that neither of us was going to be making it in tomorrow—or more accurately today, the clock having passed midnight long before I’d ever reached the hospital. “And I promise I’ll be back to see you tomorrow as soon as I’ve had some sleep. You can make up some story about how it was all the bus’s fault.” I gave his hand one last squeeze before heading for the door, Cillian waiting outside.
“I don’t have a hotel,” Cillian said once we’d stopped off to say goodbye to Elyna and Andre and were waiting for the lift to take us down to the ground floor.
“You’re staying at mine,” I said, fatigue hitting me hard now the adrenaline was wearing off.
“It seemed better to come straight to the hospital from the airport and worry about that later.”
“You’re staying at mine,” I repeated.
“I don’t want to assume anything. I didn’t come here for that.”
I cast him a sidelong glance as the lift arrived, and we stepped into it. “Please don’t make me argue with you. I’ve been awake for the best part of twenty-four hours, so I don’t think I’m capable. And if you think I could manage anything sexual at the moment, then you need to readjust your expectations of what a normal human being is capable of.”
“A normal human being?” Cillian questioned with a slight lift of one eyebrow.
“I.e. not you.”
“Wow! I didn’t realize I was abnormal.”
“You know what I mean. We’ve already discussed the fact that you get up at some ungodly hour in the morning.” I glanced at my watch, laughing when I saw it was a few minutes past five. I angled my wrist so Cillian could see it. “There you go. Time to get up.”
Somehow, and I hadn’t even seen him lift a hand, so I had no clue how he’d done it, Cillian hailed a passing cab and bundled us both into the back of it. His suitcase had appeared from nowhere as well.
“Magic case,” I said. “Do you click your fingers and it appears?” I lay my head back against the seat and tried not to fall asleep there and then. I didn’t try that hard, though, my eyes still closing. “Are you a leprechaun? Should I follow you to your pot of gold?”
“If you want,” Cillian said with a smile in his voice. “I think you’ll be disappointed, though, when you arrive and find it’s a building you hated so much that you ran away from it the last time you were there.”
“I didn’t run away from the building,” I mumbled. “I ran away from you.”
“Oh, well, that’s alright then.” There was a slight pause before Cillian said, “I left it with the lady at reception. The idea didn’t appeal to her initially, but—”
“But you convinced her,” I said with a smile. “You turned on the charm and she caved to the inevitability of doing whatever you wanted.”
“Something like that.” There was a slight lull in conversation, and then, “You make it sound like it’s a crime.”
“It’s fine,” I said, my eyes still squeezed tightly shut. “As long as you only use your powers for good and not evil.”
I must have dozed off then because the next thing I knew, the cab had come to a stop and Cillian was tugging me from the back of it. He supported more of my body weight than I did, propping me against a lamppost while he paid the driver. He kept casting furtive glances back at me, like he expected me to topple over if he left me alone for too long.
“Unlike me,” he said as he retrieved me from the lamppost and did a stellar job of maneuvering both me and the suitcase toward the entrance to my building, “you definitely need your eight hours of sleep.”
“I’ve been getting less than that,” I said dreamily as Cillian delved his hands into my pockets rather than ask for the key. He found it in the left pocket of my jeans, the way his hand brushed against my cock, making me rethink my earlier assertion that I wasn’t capable of anything sexual. Maybe if it was quick, and stimulating enough to keep me awake. “Some man has been appearing on my computer screen and keeping me up at night with his delectable dick.”
Cillian’s snort as he fitted the key in the lock and we tumbled inside the building said he’d be teasing me for that description later when I was more compos mentis. I roused enough when faced with the stairs to be more help than the typical sack of potatoes with getting up them. Cillian was still in possession of my keys, so he unlocked the door of my flat when we reached it. I’d left all the lights blazing and the heating on in my haste to get to the hospital.
“Toasty,” Cillian said. “You could grow tomatoes in here. Where’s the control for it?”
“Kitchen,” I said, happy to let him deal with it. A soft, padding noise on the carpet heralded Quasimodo coming to find out what was going on. I got a few moments of his attention before he clocked Cillian’s presence and headed for him. Bending over to stroke the cat, Cillian peered up at me through his fringe. “Where am I sleeping?” He jerked his head toward the couch. “Because I’ll be fine there, if that works better?”
“Bed,” I said, my vocabulary apparently reduced to only one-word answers. I headed that way, shedding clothes as I went and not caring where they fell. That could be a problem for tomorrow. Anything but getting a couple of hours’ sleep could be a problem for tomorrow. I didn’t even bother with a visit to the bathroom before climbing into bed in just my underwear. I dimly sensed Cillian’s presence in the room and the rustle of his clothes coming off, but my eyes remained firmly shut, and I couldn’t muster the energy to open them.
“I switched the heating off,” he said as the mattress gave beneath his weight. “And switched all the lights off.”
“Thanks.” I burrowed further into the pillow. “I need to be up soon to call work and let them know I won’t be in, and what happened to Laurent.”
“I’ll set an alarm.” Cool lips pressed to my temple. “Night Finn.”
I might have answered, or I might have fallen asleep and left Cillian hanging. There was no way of knowing.