35. Kellan
Chapter Thirty-Five
Kellan
Ididn’t want to get up. Didn’t want to let her out of my sight.
As if she sensed my hesitation, she squeezed my hand. “Go. I’ll be here in the morning when you come back.”
“Promise?” It was an unfair question, but one I couldn’t help asking.
“Promise.”
Once I arrived home at my townhouse, I only intended to sleep for an hour after taking a hot shower. My family was staying upstairs, so I stumbled into the guest room downstairs—and passed out.
I didn’t wake up until the next morning, when I immediately panicked. Anxious to ensure Layla was okay, I dialed Russ right away.
“Hey,” he answered.
“Hey. You at the hospital?”
“Yep. Layla has been moved out of ICU into a normal room and just finished breakfast. Of course, she asked for bacon and she got bland oatmeal, but it’s a start.”
The pressure in my chest eased with his words. “I was afraid I’d dreamed it all.”
“Nope. Doctors haven’t indicated when she’ll be released, but you know my sister. She’s a badass and is already talking about wanting to be home in a couple of days.”
Of course she was. “Tell her I’ll be there soon.”
“Take your time.”
I went upstairs and found my mom in my kitchen making breakfast. My dad was at the kitchen table while my sister lay on the couch, apparently still asleep.
My mom smiled and set down the spatula by the stove to come over and give me a hug. The comforting type that, no matter how old you are, only a mother could give you.
She stepped back, wiping her eyes. “We’re all so relieved.”
My father had come over to pat me on the back, and then he hugged me, too.
“Me too,” I murmured, not wishing to get all choked up again. “She made me go home last night. I didn’t mean to sleep so long, but Russ told me she’s up and eating breakfast, so she’s feeling better.”
My mom went back over to the pans. “I have bacon and pancakes. You should eat as well.”
“I was going to get dressed and head back to the hospital.”
She gave me a stern look. “When is the last time you ate?”
I couldn’t remember. My stomach had been in knots for days.
Her face softened. “I’ll make it to go.”
“Thanks, Mom.” I kissed her on the cheek and ran up the stairs to put on fresh clothes. When I came down, my father was getting off his cell phone.
“That was Brandon. He hadn’t wanted to call your cell just in case. Anyhow, when you get a chance, you should call him.”
I’d completely forgotten about the job. Or him. Or work. And for once, I didn’t care about any of that. “Yeah. I’ll call him on the ride.”
Brandon picked up on the first ring once I dialed him from my truck. “Hey. I hear things are better?”
“Yes. Thank God.”
He was quiet before saying, “I heard it was close.”
“It was. Too close. I’m sorry I didn’t call, but—”
“Don’t be. I had you covered.” He went into some details about a paint change and a few other minor things and how it was all taken care of. I couldn’t have been more appreciative.
“I owe you.”
“No, you don’t. It felt good to be able to do this for you.
I can’t say the same about seeing Carly.
However, the expression on her face when I showed up was, uh—well, let’s just leave it at interesting.
I told them you’d be in touch for a final walk-through.
Considering it’s Thanksgiving weekend, I think you have a few days. ”
I’d forgotten all about the holiday. “I’ll call them to set it up. Thanks again.”
“You’re welcome. Let me know when you’re free. We’ll grab a beer.”
“Sounds good.” And it did. It felt as if I wasn’t in competition any longer. That I could focus on the more important things. Like the love of my life.
As one would expect, Layla was in a hurry to get out of the hospital. And I was anxious to have her in my house. While taking her home on Wednesday, I broached the subject with all the finesse of a bulldozer.
“I think you should move in with me.”
She looked over with a raised brow, her voice still hoarse, but getting stronger every day. “Do you now?”
“I’d like you to.”
“Why do you want me to move in?”
This was a test. I remembered she’d said she didn’t want to move in with me just because of finances.
So, I went with the simple truth. “Because I don’t want it to be me staying with you in your bed or you in my bed.
I want it to be us in our bed. Our house.
Our kitchen. I want to come home from work and anticipate seeing you every night.
Then wake up with you every morning. I want to make bacon, horseradish cheddar, mushroom, and avocado burgers on pretzel buns together.
Make coffee in the mornings with you and, dammit, spend as much time together as possible. ”
She grinned. “You had me at burger.”
I expelled a breath, grinning back at her. “Fair warning, I’ll have a period where I’ll probably annoy you with my excessive worrying. But my obsessing would happen regardless, whether we’re together at your place or at mine.”
What could I say? I’d almost lost her. It would be a while before I wasn’t hovering over her. While I was relieved she was out of the hospital, there’d been some comfort in knowing that there she’d been hooked up to machines to alert me to any health issues.
“I understand. But don’t go sticking mirrors under my face to check for breathing or anything crazy.”
I shook my head. “It’s too soon to joke about that.”
She chuckled. “I saw your lips twitch. As for your proposition, I’ll move in with you. On one condition.”
Now I let myself smile. “Of course.”
“We start looking for property on which you can build, or a fixer-upper for you to renovate, so we can have our dream house.”
My hand took hers in the center. “Your conditions always seem to be something which benefits me more than you.”
“Please. You haven’t seen the specs for my closet yet.”
“Babe, I’ll build you one bigger than your apartment if it’s what you want.”
She lifted my hand to her face, giving my knuckles a kiss. “My hero.”