Chapter 27 Este
ESTE
I’m doing a terrible job of trying not to cry.
Nico is awake. He’s clearly tired, but alert. He has an IV and his arm is in a sling, but otherwise, he could be lying in bed at home. He’s okay.
He’s okay.
Nico cups my face, brushing away my tears with his thumb. “Hey. Don’t cry, angel.”
“I was so scared,” I murmur, and pain flashes in his eyes.
“I’m sorry. I should’ve been more—”
“No, Nico,” I cut him off, placing my hand over his on my face.
“It was a freak accident, and there was nothing you could’ve done.
In fact, the doctor said we were lucky you’d just sharpened your axe, because it would’ve been much worse if it were blunt.
You’re not allowed to blame yourself for this. ”
“Not allowed, huh?” His lips lift a fraction at the corners, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen something as perfect.
“Nope. I said so.”
“Noted,” he answers with a quiet chuckle. He runs his gaze over my face, taking me in, and the smile falls from his lips. “You haven’t slept, have you?”
“I’m fine.”
“Not what I asked.”
I roll my eyes, but I can’t pretend I’m not pleased to hear his familiar, commanding tone. That came back fast. “I’ve gone longer without sleep and survived. I’ll catch up.”
“Knock knock.”
Nico frowns, but I’m saved from having to answer as the doctor who spoke to us after Nico’s surgery comes in, trailed by two interns who may or may not be the same two that were with him yesterday. I was so focused on Nico that I don’t remember much of what happened yesterday.
“Mr. Harland, it’s good to see you awake. I’m Dr. Martinez, and my interns today are Dr. Liu and Dr. McGuire. Do you mind if they join us?”
Nico agrees, and Dr. Martinez gestures to the interns to talk him through his surgery and treatment plan.
Everything went as well as it could have during his surgery—they even managed to remove his axe without damaging it, though Shay took it and I’m not convinced she’s planning to give it back to Nico anytime soon.
As long as he rests, attends physical therapy, and doesn’t push himself, he should get full function back in his arm, albeit with a new scar for his collection.
“When can I go home?” Nico asks.
“As long as there are no complications, we’ll get you out of here in a day or two.
What you need most is rest, and you’ll likely get more of that at home.
You’ll need to get your wound checked regularly for the first few weeks, but the clinic in Wintermore will be able to handle it,” Dr. Martinez tells him, and, though I can tell from Nico’s expression that he’s not thrilled about spending time in town, he doesn’t protest. The only place I imagine he wants to be less than Wintermore is in this hospital bed.
They switch him from IV to oral pain medicine when Nico requests something less strong, so he’s not as groggy, and Dr. Martinez seems perfectly happy with how Nico’s doing when he’s finished up.
“Alright, that’s all we have for you. Any questions for us, Mr. Harland?”
Nico wrinkles his nose. “Nico, please. Mr. Harland makes me feel old.” Oh, I am so calling him Mr. Harland to rile him up when he’s well enough to dole out a punishment. “There are no issues with my right side, are there? Just my left arm?”
The doctor looks confused, but nods. “There shouldn’t be, anyway. Does something feel wrong?”
“No, it’s fine. So, it would be safe for Este to lie on that side and take a nap? She hasn’t slept since the accident.”
Oh my god. “Nico, I’m fine.”
Dr. Martinez glances between us, considering. “Ordinarily, we wouldn’t allow that, but I know better than to suggest you take a nap in one of the family rooms, Este, so as long as you’re careful and don’t move around much, I’ll okay it. You both need to rest.”
The second he leaves the room, Nico turns to me with a smile that makes my stomach flutter. “Doctor’s orders, angel.”
I roll my eyes, draw the curtains, and flick off the small light beside the bed before kicking off my shoes. “I’m going to remind you how passionate you are about ‘doctor’s orders’ when you’re complaining about going to physical therapy or getting your wound checked.”
“I’m not going to complain. I have a vested interest in getting strong—are you taking your pants off? Why am I not surprised?”
I step out of my jeans, ball them up, and shove them in the empty closet beside Nico’s bed. We’ll need to figure out how to get some of his clothes before they discharge him.
“I can’t sleep in jeans,” I tell him before carefully climbing over the railing and under the covers he’s holding up.
The second my body settles beside his, everything gets a little quieter in my head.
But there’s one thing I don’t think he fully considered when he suggested I climb in with him. “Nico?”
“Hmm?”
“What’s your plan for when my dad comes back and finds his ‘little girl’ in bed with you?”
Nico groans. “Don’t you think I’ve been through enough without reminding me of the ‘little girl’ comment? Moving on… I think your dad will just be happy to see you sleeping. You don’t think he’s figured it out?”
“I think he has the pieces, but he’s avoiding putting them together until things are less… stressful.”
My dads and Sloane got back to Chicago a couple of weeks ago, but they got straight on a plane for Wyoming as soon as I called yesterday.
I’ve never been so relieved to see them, so relieved to be pulled into my dads’ arms. Until they tried to get me to leave Nico’s hospital room and go back to their hotel with them.
If they didn’t figure out something’s going on between Nico and me from my very dramatic, “I’m not leaving him!” at the top of my lungs, I’ll be surprised. I assume they’re waiting until things have settled to bring it up.
Maybe if it really had just been sex a few times, we could’ve gone our separate ways without anyone ever finding out.
But that’s never what it was. From my point of view, the way forward is obvious.
I’m not sure if Nico is going to see it that way, though, and it’s probably not the right time to bring it up, considering he was on death’s doorstep yesterday.
Regardless, my dads finding out now is unavoidable, and I really don’t think it’s going to go as badly as Nico seems to think it is. They’ll be surprised, I’m sure, and we have more than my relationship status to discuss, but ultimately, I know they just want me to be happy.
There are a lot of conversations waiting, between me and my dads, me and Nico, but this isn’t the right time for any of them.
Nico’s eyes don’t leave mine as I trace my pinky over the curve of his lips. “I’m so glad you’re okay. Thought I was losing you for a while there,” I whisper, and Nico swallows, his gray eyes cloudy with emotion.
“I know, baby. Maybe we could both avoid near-death experiences for a little while, yeah?”
I laugh, and I love the way it makes his whole face brighten up. “Let’s. Oh, by the way, you lied to me.”
“What? No I didn’t,” he sputters.
“Did so. You told me the dogs hated everyone and made me feel special when they liked me,” I tell him with a faux glare.
“They do hate everyone except you.”
“Nope. They love everyone except Shay. They’re having a great time with Noelle’s parents.”
Nico frowns. “Huh. I guess they haven’t really been around anyone but me and Shay.
You’re still the most special, though,” he promises, which earns him a kiss.
A kiss I can’t stop myself from sinking into, sighing as Nico runs his tongue over the seam of my lips, groaning when he slips it between them.
He tastes like toothpaste and relief, and if he wasn’t only a day out from surgery, I’d—
“That doesn’t look like sleeping,” Dr. Martinez calls, and we break apart as he passes by the door. The open door. Right.
Nico and I look at each other, and I’m not sorry for the color the kiss put back in his cheeks.
“Sleep?” he asks.
“Sleep,” I confirm.
“Goodnight, angel.”
“Goodnight,” I say with a yawn. I want to tell him I love him, but I don’t know if he remembers me saying it when he was barely conscious, and, on the off chance he doesn’t, I can probably make it a nicer, less desperate experience when I retell him for the first time.
“Este?”
“Yeah?”
“Do I snore?”
The question is so unexpected that I can’t stop the laugh that bubbles up. “What? Where did that come from?”
“Just curious,” he replies, after a small pause that makes me think he’s leaving something out. Interesting.
“You do snore. Really loudly, actually. But I like it—Sloane does, too, so it’s familiar. It reassures me you’re there.”
The room is dark, but light enough that I can see the smile curve his lips. “Good. As long as I’m not annoying you.”
“Never,” I promise him, laying my head on his chest. Not even a minute passes before the exhaustion of the past couple of days drags me under.